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Djuana left work early and walked in the light drizzle instead of taking the bus, which would have been free to Waterfront Park. She paced herself, not wanting to arrive too soon and have to wait for him.
Jack was there, waiting for her. He was leaning on his truck with a rose in his hand. He sprang up with a smile when he saw her crossing the street. Djuana didn’t think she could smile, but she did in answer to his. They exchanged hellos, and Djuana accepted the flower. Jack was cool, he held his questions, instead allowing her to lead him on a walk into the park and near the pier.
Djuana was quiet. She sniffed the flower every so often and looked out at the water. Jack tried not to stare at her, but he watched her. He was used to her prolonged silences. This time, he understood why.
While they strolled Djuana battled with the task of telling him. She remembered that telling Dexter was easier...she expected to lose him.
Then, abruptly, Djuana opened up.
“There is something I need to tell you before we go any further,” she inhaled and blew air out toward the river. She stopped walking and faced Jack.
“I’m four months pregnant. That guy last night was the baby's father. My ex.”
Jack’s smile dimmed. He leaned on the banister and spit into the river. “That's the guy from the night I met you?''
“Yes. That was when I told him.''
Jack scolded her. “I don’t understand why you didn’t tell me this sooner. We talked about everything else.”
“I don’t know. I wanted to.” She refrained from looking at him. “I guess I was selfish.”
Jack went silent and Djuana’s heart paused.
A brisk breeze blew straight through Djuana. She sniffed and shivered. The early evening sun was hidden in the threatening clouds. She rubbed her arms and looked out across the water. She wished she could snap her fingers and Jack would be the father. Or snap them and she wouldn’t be pregnant. Or, better yet, she wished for a brand new start on her confused life.
“You lied to me,” Jack blurted in anger.
“No,” Djuana shook her head. “I didn’t lie to you.”
“Yes you did. What you call it? Not telling me?”
“Jack listen, It’s not something I’m all that proud of. It took me awhile to come to terms with it on my own. I’m not just telling you now because of last night, but I was near telling you because I feel comfortable with you as a friend, and I feel you should know before we go further.”
“Fine. “ Jack snapped.
“Don’t be like that. I’m sorry,” Djuana was standing, arms crossed holding herself. She was speaking in a nervous tone. “Maybe I should have told you sooner,” she continued. “But like I said, I needed some time to be sure for me first. I haven't handled any of this all that well, I guess.”
Jack understood. But he felt cheated. “So, what’s the deal with you and him?''
“That is how he acts every time we try to talk. So I really don't know. There's nothing between us besides the baby, though.''
Djuana glanced over at a set of benches. She wanted to sit, needed to sit, because her feet felt like swelling grapefruits. But a couple was at one of the benches playing with their toddler. She envied the sight, and didn't want to go over there.
In a blunt manner, she proceeded. “My baby's father is an ex. He's married. I don't think he wants to be a part of the baby's life.''
Jack grimaced while she spoke. He wondered would she have ever told him. His head turned and his eyes closed. He was listening, and he really didn’t care that she was pregnant-he had an idea before the previous night's fiasco.
During one of their playful nights he felt the tightness of her belly while tackling her onto the bed. From then on he would take notice to the way her clothes fit, her eating habits and her lack of mentioning a period, ever.
He was in love with Djuana, and afraid she may hurt him. He thought of Slight and his penchant to the Crowns image.
Djuana watched him, looking for any sign of his affection. The love she craved and was so close to being spoiled by. She felt the distance between them growing. It was just as Aunt Earline told her: communication is the key.
She had tried communication with Dexter, but they never talked about anything of substance, thus she should have known where she stood with him long ago.
But this man, this angry man in front of her meant more to her than any effort she gave to keep Dexter. She wanted Jack in a way she had never wanted any man. Although she hadn't thought of what to say to him, she was dead-set on letting him know her feelings. She wasn't about to give up.
“Damn,” he muttered.
“Jack,” Djuana touched his elbow. “What are you thinking? Talk to me. You have been so talkative, don’t stop now.”
He heard her. At that instant he was comparing her with the many women he had dated in Portland and didn’t answer. As he searched his past, Djuana, in just that instant, came out on top of all the others.
She had never asked about his salary, nor looked for a handout. As a matter of fact, he recalled, she had never let him buy her anything. He did think that if she did want money, she would ask him now. He doubted it, but still asked her a test question.
“What do you expect from me?” His eyebrows were glaring.
Djuana didn’t hesitate. “Nothing.”
Jack just nodded. He was relieved. She’s the one, he knew.
“Look, Jack. If your mind has changed about me. I understand. If you don't want to be with me anymore, I understand.”
He cut her off, “No. It hasn’t. I just need some time to think this over.”
A sharp pain, the feeling of a knife slicing her heart, walloped Djuana. “He’s gone,’’ she deduced.
“I understand.” Her voice was somber. “Take all the time you want.”
She looked at her watch and fought off the tears. “I need to get home. It’s my turn to cook dinner and I don’t feel like hearing my mother's mouth tonight.”
Djuana didn’t want him to, but Jack drove her home. The ride was solemn. When the Pathfinder stopped at her building, she got out and said good night faintly. Jack didn’t look at her as he said good-bye.
She closed the car door quietly.
“Good-bye is forever,” she told him.
Jack hit the steering wheel and cursed softly. “Good night, Djuana,” he said while electronically closing the passenger’s window.
It seemed to her as if he could not wait to pull off. Actually, he watched her until she reached the building’s door.
“I’ve lost him, Tia.” Djuana sobbed.
Tia sat up in her bed and cut off the television. She had expected the call of doom.
“Damn, Dee. He broke up with you?”
“I told him and he burnt rubber outta here,” Djuana was well composed then, yet she had been crying from the time she got in the building until she finished cooking dinner.
“Damn,'' Tia sighed. “I thought he would. I’m sorry.”
Djuana ran by her wild ideas to get him back. “I could go to his house and try to explain it. I don’t think he really understands. Or maybe you could call him. Or I could call Oscar Taylor’s wife. I met her and she seemed nice.
“I just don’t want him to think I was trying to pull anything.”
Tia sighed. “Forget it. If it was meant to be he would have understood. You know, I think you don’t realize what a tough situation you were asking him to be apart of. You’re four months pregnant by another man. He’s a star baseball player.
“What did you really expect him to do?”
“Understand. And still be there,” Djuana sobbed.
Tia shook her head and looked up to the ceiling of her bedroom. The sound of Djuana crying pierced her heart. Her friend did really love the guy and she didn’t think she should.
Djuana cried for a long time on the phone. Tia said little things to help soothe her friend’s broken heart. Nothing helped.
“Tia, I love him. I really, really love him, and I need him,” Djuana said. “I had him, but he’s...Shit.”
Tia swallowed the hurt. “I don’t know what to say.”
Djuana watched the Crowns lose their fifth game in a row, a Saturday afternoon game that Devon wanted very dearly to attend. She had to explain that Jack and she had an argument. To which Devon demanded to know what she did.
Jack had one hit, a hard shot that reached the outfield wall. He raced into second base, having to dive head first to beat the tag. Djuana loved it and, at the same time, hated that he wouldn’t be calling to tell her what he was thinking while he ran.
She tried calling him late that night and received no answer. She would not leave a message on his machine. If he had answered, though, she would have hung up. She knew he didn’t want to talk with her, but she wanted to hear his voice. She was also a tad bit frightened that he wouldn’t return the calls, and thus she would really know he didn’t want to be bothered any more.
Djuana spent that night alone, her first in weeks. She cooked dinner after the game ended, then watched Emma leave to meet her friends to play bingo. Devon was invisible. He ate, then vanished into Emma’s room to watch television. He was highly disturbed about missing hat day at Adkins.
Tia called for a hot second before her first date with a guy from her Art class.
It was then, in the living room alone, Djuana thought of God. He must be testing me, she reasoned. Why else would she finally meet the man of her dreams, and lose him because the man she thought was in love with her was the father of the baby she so dearly wanted months ago. Now that she’s pregnant, she doesn’t want the baby, nor does she want to abort it.
She opened up the family Bible that sat on the coffee table. The large, crimson old testament, hadn’t been open by anyone in two years. The last person to opened it was Calvin during an argument about the Ten Commandments, the movie. Djuana read a few verses, but her mind was not into it. She put the book down and thought to call the only religious person left in the family, Aunt Earline, Emma’s older sister.
Earline, 58 years old, had been married for 32 years before her husband, Steve, passed a year ago. Djuana had always adored their relationship. They seemed happy despite arguments. They always seemed to be making up. Djuana would love spending weekends with them-even the full Sundays in church. Steve would help pass the time by sharing complaints with her during the long services.
Earline always answered her telephone after the sixth ring. She only spoke to important callers, or those who knew her habit. When she heard Djuana’s voice on the other end, she immediately brightened.
After the usual ‘how is everybody?’ and ‘why haven’t you and Devon visited me?’ questions, Djuana asked the best question she could have. And she knew it.
“Aunt E, can I come to church with you tomorrow morning.”
“Can you? Oh, I’d love it!”
“Good. Then I’ll meet you in front of the church at 10.”
“Now, don’t tease me, Darling. Are you really coming?”
“Yes, I will be there.” Damn, Djuana thought. I should visit her more often. “I need to go.”
“Is this about Dexter and the baby.”
“Sort of.” Djuana hadn’t told her, but she knew Emma had burnt up the phone lines.
“Everything will work out, the Lord will take care of it. Darling, I’m so glad you’ve decided to seek His guidance.”