Authors: Carl Weber
“Ow!” Isis shouted.
I glanced over at the doctor. He could ignore me if he wanted to, but I was going to snatch that thing out of his hand and show him how it worked if he kept hurting my sister.
He must have sensed my thoughts, because he announced, “Don’t worry. I’m done.”
Just like that, it was over. Isis was inseminated. The doctor and Rashad had done their parts; now it was up to Isis and God to do the rest.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m all right,” she grunted. “We did it.”
“No, Isis, you did it, and I love you for it.”
“I love you too.”
To say this was an intense moment was an understatement. A little more than a month ago, Isis was a beacon of controversy in my household, and now she was an angel of hope. She didn’t know it, but she’d single-handedly saved my marriage. Soon, Rashad and I would be parents, and our family would be complete. For the first time, it truly sank in: I was going to be a mommy.
“So, Doctor, when will we know?” I was so anxious that I could barely sit still. “What are the chances she’ll get pregnant?” He’d answered this ten times already, but I wanted to hear him explain it again. I’m sure I wasn’t the first mother-to-be to ask a million questions.
“Good. The chances are very good that Isis will get pregnant. She has a strong uterus, which can support a pregnancy. She was ovulating during our insemination.”
“That’s great.” I couldn’t wait to go outside to the waiting room and see Rashad. “Do you think it will take a long time for Isis to get pregnant?”
“Now, that I can’t say. You’re just getting started. Most couples don’t get pregnant until the third or fourth try. We’ll just
have to wait and see. If it doesn’t work this month, we’ll try next month when she ovulates. But like I said, her body temperature indicates she’s ovulating, and our tests show that she has healthy eggs. It’s just a matter of fertilization. Each month, we will keep track of her cycle and do the insemination, until we get the results we’re looking for.”
“I hope I don’t have to go through this no more,” Isis said. “It hurts.”
“Well, go home and keep your feet up. If you have any discomfort, you can take Tylenol.”
Dr. Collins left the room, and I helped Isis dress. She was acting so helpless that you’d think she’d already had the baby, but I was enjoying every minute of it. Taking care of her was the least I could do to show my gratitude.
We walked out to the waiting room, smiling and holding hands. Even sharing a bedroom growing up, we had never been this close.
Rashad still looked a little disappointed that he had been forced to stay in the waiting area. He wanted to come in during the insemination, but I told him no. I mean, he did used to sleep with my sister, and no matter how close I was feeling to her right now, there was still that part of me that was determined to make sure my husband never again saw her naked.
“Well, how did it go?” he asked.
“We have to wait before we find out if this round worked, but the doctor says he’s sure it’s only a matter of time before you’re a daddy,” I told him with a smile.
He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around both of us. Here I was with the man I loved and the sister who was giving us the most beautiful gift. I felt so loved. This was a moment I would never forget.
On our way home from the doctor’s office, we stopped at Chesterfield Town Center Mall at my suggestion. I loved to shop and so did my sister, so I was hoping to pick up a few things and have Rashad pick up the tab. He was so giddy about me walking around with his sperm up inside me, I could probably get him to buy me just about anything if my sister weren’t around. If I had known he was going to be rich and that having a baby was this important to him, I would have let him knock me up years ago.
I was in a really good mood as we strolled through the different shops, spending Rashad’s money like he had an endless supply. It was almost as if we were both married to him until Egypt took his hand, leaning against him playfully. I watched them kiss, and my blood began to boil. I’m not sure why, but lately that kind of shit angered me. Probably because Egypt just loved to rub it in my face that she was with Rashad and I wasn’t. She’d been doing a lot of that lately, and it was pissing me off.
Well, let’s see her rub it in my face when I’m carrying his damn baby
.
Speaking of pissing me off, Egpyt really did it this afternoon at the doctor’s office when she wouldn’t allow Rashad to be in the room while they inseminated me. Hell, he and I were the biological parents of this baby, not her. Who the fuck was she to say he could or couldn’t be there when our baby was being conceived? If I had my druthers, we’d be making the baby the old-fashioned way, and she’d be the one waiting outside the room for the results.
It was time to see how much this baby thing was really going
to get me. When I saw the sharpest maternity outfits in a store display window, I called out, “Ooh-wee, let’s stop here.”
Egypt, who had been in a good mood lately, said, “We haven’t even done the pregnancy test and you’re already acting like you’re pregnant. You need to slow down.”
She didn’t see, but I gave her the nastiest look.
“Look, I’ve been turkey basted to death, and I should be pregnant. I got a good feeling,” I said. “Let’s get an early start.”
The truth was, I already felt a little different, like the first time I was pregnant. I don’t know, just a little warmer than usual, like my temperature was elevated. They had this early pregnancy test we could do at home, so we might know in about ten days.
“Aw, let her go in and look and see what she likes,” Rashad said.
Egypt let out a good-natured sigh. “Okay. Girl, you are getting spoiled already. These clothes look rather expensive.”
“Well, I’ll just get a few nice pieces; then the rest I’ll buy secondhand.”
“No, you won’t wear thrift-shop clothes,” Rashad said. “We want you to be in a good frame of mind while you’re pregnant. That way the baby will have a good disposition. I read that in the baby books.”
Those two had all these baby books from before, and they had pulled them out and reread them now that I was trying to get pregnant for them. If I didn’t wish they were broken up, I’d think they were a cute couple.
I picked out the cutest and most high-end clothes I could find.
When Egypt protested, Rashad said, “Let her get them.”
After I had tried on many outfits, I said, “Ooh, Egypt, I’m so thirsty. Could you go buy me a lemonade at the lemonade shop next door?”
While she was gone, I got a whiff of some fresh pastries. “Rashad, you think you could go get me a Krispy Kreme donut over across the way? I’m already getting cravings. I’m almost sure this is it.”
Rashad grinned and nodded, then left to get my food.
I almost laughed out loud. I had both of them at my beck and call, and I wasn’t even pregnant for sure yet. I started daydreaming
about what it would be like when I did conceive. And if we found out it was a boy, then that would be even better. Rashad was already acting a fool, so I knew I’d have him wrapped around my finger once the baby was on the way. After that, I could promise him more kids, and he would definitely want to leave Egypt. Yeah, things were certainly looking up for me.
It was five in the morning when I tiptoed nervously up the stairs, carrying my heels in hand. I’d just come back from the waterfall with Terrance, where we’d made love on a blanket under the stars. It was the most memorable night I’d spent in a very long time.
The sex was good—not earth-shattering, but good. It could have been much better if I hadn’t been so distracted with guilt over cheating on Leon. As much as I wanted to get even with him, a part of me still couldn’t get past the fact that I was breaking vows that were meant to be honored for life.
I had to give Terrance an A for effort, though. I think he sensed my hesitation, and he sure as hell tried his best to make me see stars. He came damn close too. Regrettably, every time I was on the verge of climaxing, I’d think of Leon. Talk about a mood killer. What that told me was something I already knew: I loved Leon, and deep down inside, I wished it was him who was making me feel that way. I’ll tell you, trying to have revenge sex wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.
Now that I was home and the thrill of the moment was gone, I was kind of glad I didn’t have an orgasm with Terrance. If he had made me come, I might have been, for lack of a better word, wide open. That would not have been a good thing, because in spite of everything, I really did want my marriage to last. But I was also smart enough to realize I’d been so starved for attention that it would be easy to become attached to a man who could bring me the physical joy Leon hadn’t cared enough to give lately. Jerome always liked to say, “It’s easy to confuse good sex
with love,” and at this point, a good orgasm might have had me falling head over heels for someone who was not my husband.
So, I came home feeling like I’d accomplished my mission. I’d set out to get even in order to move on with my life and my marriage. He’d cheated; now I’d cheated, so we were even, although he’d never know it. I wasn’t going to step outside my marriage again—not unless Leon gave me a good reason. As much fun as it was, it just wasn’t me.
When I walked into our bedroom, Leon appeared to be fast asleep. It was times like these I wished he snored so I could be sure. I glanced across the room to the bathroom door. All I had to do was make it fifteen feet, and I’d be home free. I needed a shower in the worst way. Not that Terrance was a dirty man, but I felt like his scent was all over me. It was a mixture of sweat, sex, and his coconut body oil. I kind of liked it, but I was sure Leon wouldn’t find it very appealing, so I headed for the bathroom and a hot shower. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to walk three feet, let alone fifteen, before I heard the ruffling of sheets.
“Loraine?”
I froze in my tracks, turning my head toward the bed. Leon sat up like he’d been awake, waiting for me all night.
Please, don’t come over here. Please, don’t come over here
. The absolute last thing I wanted was for him to get too close before I had a chance to shower.
“Hey, baby, what you doing up?”
“Waiting for you. A little late, isn’t it?” He glanced over at the clock radio. “It’s five o’clock in the morning. Did you forget you have a home?”
“No, I was out with Jerome. We went down to the NCO Club at Fort Lee.” I tried to answer casually, but if I sounded half as nervous as I felt, he was going to see right through me.
“The NCO Club closes at two. Mind telling me where you been?” The tone of his voice made me feel like he knew exactly where I’d been and what I’d been doing. I racked my brain trying to remember if there was anyone in the club who looked familiar, someone who might have called Leon to tell him about the man I was hugged up with on the dance floor.
“We went to the Waffle House to get something to eat. I guess
I lost track of time.” I turned to head for the shower, hoping our conversation was over.
But it wasn’t. “The Waffle House, huh?” he said skeptically.
I faced him again and crossed my arms over my chest. I tried to sound exasperated by his questions. “Yes, Leon, me and my gay friend went to the Waffle House. Do you have some sort of problem with that?”
“No, I just—”
“Oh, I see. You afraid some man other than you might see me and want me?” He looked a little taken aback by my change in demeanor, and I suddenly felt empowered as I realized how well this tactic was working. “All right, I was in a secluded park screwing some man under the stars. That make you feel any better? Would you like some details?”
Okay, for the record, I couldn’t believe I’d just said that either. But the way things were going, he wasn’t about to let up, so I took a page from the playbook used by so many cheating men: Go on the offensive and take the focus off yourself, quick. I’d just taken it one step further by admitting the truth, without him realizing I was admitting the truth. Pretty good reverse psychology, don’t you think?
He tried to play it off with a laugh. “No, I’m not afraid of anything.” Then he tried to assert his manliness one more time. “But you got a home. Don’t come through that door after three in the morning again, or—”
“Or what?” My defiance was no longer part of an act. Husband or not, I hated when people threatened me. “I’m a grownass woman, and I stopped having curfews when I was eighteen.”
“No wife of mine is going to be running the streets until five o’clock in the morning. Or have you stopped being my wife too?”
Uh-oh, he was taking this in a direction I didn’t want to go. This was not the time for a long discussion about the state of our marriage, especially not when I was still covered in the scent of another man.
“Leon, it’s late. I’m tired. I wanna take a shower and go to bed. I don’t wanna argue with you.” I started to walk toward the bathroom, but he pulled the sheets back and stepped out of bed.
“Well, I do.”
I was struggling to keep calm, but his voice had taken on a little too much bass, and I was afraid this might escalate into something physical in a hurry. I stepped into the bathroom, but he was right behind me.
“If we have to argue to get this thing straight, then we will.”
“What do you want from me, Leon?” I was leaning against the sink, still trying to keep my distance.
“I love you, Loraine. I want my wife back.”
I had to pause for a moment, because I was so confused by his sudden change. I fully expected the screaming to start at any moment, but all of a sudden, he was speaking to me almost like he might start crying or something.
Then it dawned on me that he might be faking. Maybe this was some sort of trick. Maybe he knew something, and he thought that he could lull me into confessing if he faked vulnerability. I decided my best plan of action was to stay the course. If I changed my attitude and showed some weakness now, he would know something was up.
“Oh, now you want your wife back. You should have thought about that before your nasty-ass bitch left her panties in my bed.”