An Unconventional Love: A Novella (5 page)

jasmine.

Google images has got to be the worst invention ever.

You Google something to see examples, and what do they give you?

The grossest, most horrific examples they can find, scaring you out of anything you could possibly think of.

For me, that was the idea of an abortion.

Sure I was a Pro-Choice type of girl after hearing horror stories about different grades of pregnancies through my law studies and work. But after looking through picture after picture of abortions gone wrong, I couldn’t do it.

Not to myself.

And not to my baby.

I’m having a fuckin’ baby.

I double-crossed my thoughts, wondering if the baby could hear me cussing in my head. I mean, technically he or she was a part of me right?

I pulled my shirt up, observing my still-flat tummy from a bird’s eye view, knowing in a few months, everything about it would change.

Everything about
me
would change.

Fuck Mr. Robinson.

I still didn’t know his first name, yet here I was, carrying his baby and signing off on at least eighteen years of correspondence. I knew - from ‘learning the law’ - that raising a kid in two separate homes was almost always a sticky situation when the parents weren’t in at least some sort of sync. There was hardly any way that he and I could be in sync considering we knew nothing about each other besides the kind of car each other drove.

Oh shit.

The insurance card.

That should have his full name on it right?
              I snatched my phone from its place next to me on the bed and typed in my pass code before finding my folder of pictures. I scrolled through at least 20 selfies before I found the picture I had taken the day of the accident. The insurance card read Rae Robinson.

His name is Rae?

That’s kinda girly.

I exited out of the pictures folder and scrolled over to open my Facebook app, typing in the name Rae Robinson. A few different locals came up that had the same name, but I scrolled through until I found a picture of him and the girl I remembered as his sister. I clicked on the profile and though most of it was private, I could still see the birthday listed as August 18, 1997.

1997?

Rae is his sister, dummy!

He must’ve been driving her car the day of the accident which explained her attitude with me at the Talent Show.

I clicked on the profile picture, the only thing I could access on her profile, and it opened to a larger version of her and her brother with the caption, “
He may get on my nerves, but I love him like no other. #MyBrothersKeeper.

I continued my stalking - I mean
research
- by reading the comments.

“Awww that’s so cute Rae!”

“Rae, your big brother is so fine.”

“You guys have such a special bond!”

“Awww Richie Rich and Rae Rae all grown up.”

Richie Rich?

Was that his name?

Was he a Rich like Richard Robinson?

Or did he really have the swag to just be named Rich?

Gotta be a Richard.

Of course when I did a Facebook search of both Richard Robinson and Rich Robinson, nothing came up that resembled him. I transferred my search to Google and found out that there were hundreds of both names in the state of California.

But, since I had nothing but time considering baby was gonna keep me on the injured/reserved list as far as going out was concerned, I made it my quest to find the one that matched my baby daddy.

rich.

I was nervous.

I hardly ever got nervous, but for the situation, it felt justified.

After getting Jasmine’s information from Jamison -
for the record, yes, he clowned the hell out of me
-, we were finally meeting up to discuss options for our child that I couldn’t resist acknowledging as mine. Even though I didn’t know much about her besides the history Jamison had mentioned, I had a feeling she wasn’t the type of girl to just pin a baby on someone at random.

If it was mine, she meant it.

She wanted to meet at a coffee shop but I preferred going to somewhere more open like a park where she couldn’t lure me to a nearby alley and try to kill me. Somehow we ended up at a fro-yo spot with outdoor seating as a compromise telling me everything I needed to know about Jasmine. She was the type that made things a struggle for no reason other than just being difficult to peeve me.

It was at least 30 minutes after our scheduled meeting time when she showed up looking far from pregnant in a crop top, skinny jeans, and nude sandal stilettos. Her eyes were covered with humongous sunglasses but I could still tell when they landed on me before she headed my way.

Damn, my baby mama looks like a fuckin’ model.

“Hello Miss. Jasmine.”

“Rich.”

I smirked at her newly acquired information before I asked, “So you finally found out my first name, huh?”

“I’m a future lawyer. It wasn’t that damn hard,” She replied, as she sat down across from me, putting her purse in front of her belly. I was sure it was quickly becoming a habit for her to cover up her stomach in public though there were no hints of her pregnancy in sight.

“Well then...Miss. Future Lawyer...I’m assuming you’ve come with an agenda.”

She gave a little smirk of her own. “Hmm...you’re smarter than you look.” I watched as she dug in her purse and pulled out a packet of papers before handing them to me. “Here. Read over these, sign at the bottom, and we can move forward accordingly.”

I scanned the document, and quickly realized that it had to be some kind of joke. Though it wasn’t the abortion that she had originally mentioned, it was equally inconsiderable.

“You want me to sign over my parental rights? Are you kidding me, Jasmine?”

“Do I
look
like I’m kidding you? Meeting you was a mistake, the baby was an accident, and the last thing I need is you pretending like you give a fuck. So let’s skip the bullshit and get to the real; you can sign over your parental rights or I can fight you for them. But I’m telling you now...you don’t want those problems.” I eyed her for a long time, before my lips turned up into a confident smirk. I could appreciate her confidence, but I had to call her bluff.

“Oh, Jasmine. You still haven’t realized your little tough girl facade doesn’t scare me? I’m not like any of those other dudes you’ve probably stuck your stilettos in time after time. So I’m gonna do you a favor and give
you
the real; you met up with me because you were interested in me, the baby was made out of a wonderful,
wonderful
night of lovemaking, and I’m not even capable of offering fucks I don’t really mean to give. So, to make my point clear…” I gave the packet of papers a big rip before stacking them and giving it another rip for good measure causing her to gasp.

“You’re gonna regret that.”

“The only thing I regret is not taking the opportunity to get to know you a little bit more first. But...we have eighteen years, right?” She responded with an annoyed growl that was almost identical to the one Rae liked to use when I got on her nerves about something, forcing me to ask, “How old are you again?”

“Twenty-four.”

Phew.

I took a sip of my water before I leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest. The simple motion made Jasmine fidget in her seat and I smiled a little to myself knowing her fidgeting meant she was checking me out. Even though she acted like she wanted nothing to do with me, I knew her attraction to me, which had started this whole thing in the first place, couldn’t have disappeared that fast.

“So, tell me more about yourself.”

She held her hand up, trying to cut me off. “Rich, just stop okay. This is already a fucked-up situation. Please don’t make it worse.”

“What’s so fucked up about it? We’re having a baby, Jasmine. That’s a blessing in itself.” Though it wasn’t the ideal circumstance, I was still excited to be continuing my family’s legacy.


A blessing
? A blessing for who?”

“A blessing for us.”

“That’s the thing, Rich. There’s no such thing as an
us
. I don’t know you, you don’t know me. The only thing we have in common is this baby.”

“That may be true at the moment, but let’s face it, Jasmine; it’ll only be as bad as we make it and I don’t really need you all stressed out while you’re carrying my child…”

She quickly interjected, “Our child.”

“Excuse me,
our child
. So here’s the deal,” I dug in my pocket and pulled out the ring I had picked up from my jeweler on the way over. It wasn’t anything fancy but it would do the job until she proved she was worthy of an upgrade. “I want to make you my wife as soon as possible and then we’ll raise this child as a family.” I hadn’t even thought twice about the whole thing but I could tell I should’ve by her reaction. Her initial shock turned into fire in the blink of an eye.

“Are you out of your gotdamn mind?! Your wife?! I just learned your damn first name like...some days ago, and now all of a sudden I’m supposed to be your wife?!”

I couldn’t let her always overblown attitude break my cool so I simply replied, “You’re having my child, Jasmine. You
will
be my wife.”

“Over my dead body.”

“Don’t say shit like that. Remember, you’re speaking for two now.”

“Oh! Let me correct myself then...over
our
dead bodies. I’m not gonna marry you, Rich. Not today.
Not ever
.”

I couldn’t help challenging her, “I’ll bet you a year’s worth of diapers you will.”

“First of all, you’ll be buying that regardless. Second of all, I’m not gonna marry you just because we’re having a child together. That’s just making a bad situation worse. Third of all, don’t you have a girlfriend?” Now I was the shocked one.


A girlfriend
? Hell no.” The term girlfriend felt weird coming out of my mouth cause I hardly ever used it.

“But at the concert, you were there...with a girl.” So she had seen me in the crowd just like I had seen her. It was a good thing that Isabella hadn’t caught that though by this point, she was a complete afterthought. I couldn’t see her anymore if I wanted Jasmine to take me serious.

“We were just kickin’ it. She’s not my girl by any means.”

“Yeah, that’s what they all say.”

Something about her brushing me off as part of the majority made me eager to prove a point. Though I may not have been better than the other dudes she was use to, I certainly wasn’t the type to say shit I didn’t mean. At least not in serious situations like this. 

I grabbed her hand from across the table and was surprised when she didn’t yank it away. “I’m not that bad, Jasmine. I have a good job. Nice house. Nice cars. No baby mamas. Believe it or not, you lucked out.”

She rolled her eyes as she replied, “There’s nothing lucky about carrying a baby for nine months.”

“But there
is
something lucky about not having to do it alone. Look, I understand if you don’t wanna accept my proposal right now but I’m not gonna let you kick me out of my...
our
baby’s life. And I’m not talking about just when he’s born. I wanna experience the whole thing; doctor’s appointments, Lamaze classes, late night craving runs, the first kick, setting up the nursery, packing the bag for delivery day; all of it.”

Her stance finally appeared to soften some, as she took a deep breath before she said, “Rich, that all sounds lovey and sweet but let’s bring it back to reality. That’s the kind of stuff people do when their baby was on purpose, when they made it out of love, when they took the proper steps beforehand to ensure that they wouldn’t be bringing their baby into a hostile environment. We have none of that.”

“Well….sounds like we have some catching up to do then.”

jasmine.

“I’ve been dreaming of little fishiessss.”

I sank lower in my seat as the room suddenly felt like a sauna in response to my mom’s enthusiastic little announcement. My family was sharing Sunday dinner at her house, a place I really wasn’t too welcomed at to begin with, but couldn’t avoid without catching an ear full from my big sister, Bailey. It was no secret that she was my mom’s favorite but that didn’t matter much to me since I had always been the apple of my father’s eye; part of the reason I wasn’t welcomed at my mom’s. Since I had always stayed on #TeamDad regardless of what he put her through, she read that as me being disrespectful.

“Well, you know it’s not us, Mom. I would’ve told you by now,” Bailey chimed in, as she dug into her plate of mashed potatoes and fried turkey. Her use of
us
was in reference to her and her husband, Chad, that was sitting to her left; a suitor my mom had hand-picked from the church. Chad was an okay lookin’ dude, but not exactly the type of guy my bombshell of a sister should’ve been married to.

Bailey and I were similar in looks. We both were pretty petite, we both had curly honey-blonde hair that we inherited from our father, and we both had big ol’ natural booties though Bailey always chose to downplay hers by wearing loose clothing.

She could certainly do a hundred times better than Chad, but Bailey had always been the obedient type. Mom wanted her to become a nurse, so she went to nursing school and graduated top of her class. Mom wanted her to teach Sunday school, so she taught Sunday school, bible study, and every other church-related group the first lady of the church would let her get her hands on. Mom wanted her to marry a church-going, God-fearing brotha, so she married Chad.

The list goes on and on.

“Hmm...well if not you two, then who?” The room stilled as all eyes went to me. The only person I had shared the pregnancy with was Ariel and that was only because she was becoming suspicious after a tip from Jamison. I wasn’t showing yet, so I could definitely hold my family off for at least a few more months.

“Don’t look at me,” I said, as I quickly let my eyes fall back to my plate though my appetite had pretty much slipped away from the discussion.

“I don’t know, Jaz. It is a little weird that you of all people aren’t at least having a glass of wine.”

I gave my sister a stiff look as I replied, “I’m not having a glass of wine because I don’t want one, Bailey.”

“Since when don’t you want wine?” She was really trying to press the conversation, but there was no way I was outing myself already.

“Since today. Now let it go. If you want babies so bad, have them your damn self.”

“Do not curse at my dinner table, young lady. And Bailey, leave that girl alone. Lord knows the last thing she needs to be doing is bringing a child into her mess of a life.” I couldn’t help being offended at my mom’s little snide remark.

“My mess of a life? What the hell is that suppose to be mean?”

“Strike two with the cursing. And you know exactly what I mean. You aren’t the most...
stable
.”

“What’s so unstable about me? I have my own apartment, my own car, a good job and I’m in law school. I…”

She cut off my mini-brag session, “That’s not what I’m talking about. I mean with your...lifestyle.”


My lifestyle
? Oh, you mean the fact that I’m not sitting at home knitting sweaters and waiting for the Lord to send me some Holy brotha to start a life with? I’m sorry, but that’s just not how it works these days.” It wasn’t that I was against those that chose that way of life, it just wasn’t for me.

“It worked for your sister.”

Hardly.

“I’m...not gonna comment on that for the sake of our audience but this whole making me out to be the bad guy just because I’m not like you is getting real old.”

It was a known fact that my mom pretty much despised me because I practically did the opposite of everything she envisioned for me. She wanted me to be a nurse like Bailey, I decided I wanted to be a lawyer. She wanted me to teach Sunday school like Bailey, I turned into a CME -
Christmas, Mother’s Day, and Easter
- churchgoer. She wanted me to marry a church-going, God-fearing brotha and well...we all know that wasn’t happenin’.

“That’s what you think this is about? The fact that you aren’t like me? If I expected that, I would’ve surely given up on you a long time ago.” I had to laugh at that one.

“Oh, so you’re saying you haven’t? Come on now, Patty. You’ve never really approved of any of my life choices and you know it.”

“The only thing I never approved of is your fast behind giving your body to a countless number of men. I raised no daughter of mine to do such a thing.” Though the number was indeed countable, I really didn’t care what she thought of me. So instead I decided to taunt her about what she
thought
she knew.

“Hmm...guess you just up and let me slip through your nimble little fingers then, huh?”

“Oh no, that was none of my doing. This is all your father’s fault. He’s the one that turned you into a…”

“Into a what? Into a woman that strived for her own? Into a woman with pride and dignity? Into a woman that didn’t take shit from hatin’ ass people like you?!”

“You will not talk to your mother that way!”

“Mother is a pretty frivolous title, don’t you think?”

Bailey had remained quiet up until this point, “Jasmine, just calm down, okay? I don’t know how we got to this point, but this is ridiculous.”

“You know exactly how we got here, Bailey. The same way we always do; her trying to judge me like she’s the Lord himself. Quit blaming
me
for what
your husband
did to
you
. Maybe if you would’ve given him a reason to keep his ass at home, you wouldn’t have had those problems.”

I watched as in one swift motion, she pushed away from the table to stand up and lift a scolding finger in the direction of the door while she yelled, “Leave! Get out! Now!”

I stood up just as swiftly as she had to yell back, “Gladly!”

I snatched up my purse and jacket and stormed out of the house regretting ever being talked into coming in the first place. Once I made it to my car, I could only sit and stare down at my not-yet bulging belly. Even if I couldn’t see her quite yet, I knew she was there and had probably heard the whole thing.

“I promise to never treat you that way, nugget.”

 

)~o~(

“Baby girl, you know that was wrong of you to say right?”

Calling my Dad to vent about the situation a whole day later felt like the right thing to do. I just knew he would feel me, maybe call my mom out of her name, something to make me feel justified.

Unfortunately, instead of giving me the affirmation I expected, he was actually on her side.

“What was so wrong about it, Dad? It was the truth. She didn’t do what it took to keep you home at night so you ventured elsewhere.” The concept was clear as day to me.

“Umm...not exactly, Princess. Your mom was...
is
a wonderful woman. I just wasn’t interested in that kind of commitment at the time. And with you and Bailey, I guess I felt forced into the whole idea of marriage and a happy family when I was nowhere near mature enough to handle it. It wasn’t right for me to step out on your mom back then just like it wasn’t right for you to throw that in her face.”

“But Dad…”

“No buts, Jasmine. You need to apologize.”

“Oh hell no. There’s no way I’m apologizing to her. You must’ve forgotten all the things she said about me.” I would’ve been lying if I said it didn’t hurt to hear those things from my own damn mama. She was the one that was supposed to be there for me no matter what, my shoulder to cry on. Instead she was the one kicking me to the ground.

“She was only speaking out of spite for what you reminded her of, sweetheart. But believe it or not, your mom loves you almost as much as me.”

“Well to make things crystal clear for you, I
don’t
believe that. If she loved me, she would let me choose my own life instead of judging me for every step I take.”

He sighed into the phone, clearly peeved that he wasn’t getting his point across. “She’s not perfect, Jasmine. I know she wants ya’ll to believe that bullshit, but we all have our flaws. I hurt that woman quite a bit; so much so that I’m surprised she still answers the phone when I call.”

The DJ in my head scratched the record, stopping the track of my thoughts.

“Wait a minute; ya’ll still talk to each other?” I just knew my mom had his number blocked, locks on the house changed; hell, maybe even a restraining order.

“Almost every day. We may not be together now but there was definitely a reason for us being together back then. I’m just lucky she still allows me to be her friend.” Though I couldn’t imagine my mom being a good friend to anyone by this point, it was still interesting to hear my dad speak so highly of her.

“Okay, this is getting...
weird
. I guess I just assumed you guys lost contact after the split.”

“Not exactly. I mean, starting off we did. But slowly she started letting me back in her life.”

“So you already knew about our blow-up before I called?”

“I knew her side. But I also knew your side would sound very different so I let you tell it.” I was confident that my explanation of what happened would’ve been a little skewed if I knew he already had some background information in the form of her opinion. But I was still curious to see who he agreed with.

“Then tell me; now that you have all the information, whose side are you on?”

“Not important. What’s important is that I can’t have two of the most important women in my life fighting so I need you to kiss and make up with her.”

I couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled over before I replied, “Not happening, Daddy. Sorry but not really that sorry. If she wants to make up, tell her to give me a call. But until then, I’m staying in my lane.”

 

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