When Lyulle had gotten back to town, we’d taken Brooklyn to Magic Mountain. We’d gone as a family; this was one of Lyulle and Brooklyn’s favorite places to hang out. I had decided that Lyulle and Brooklyn may have needed some time together as they had been apart from each other so long. I was pregnant. I did not want to hang out with anyone. I suggested to Lyulle that he and Brooklyn start going out together, just the two of them. We did not need to do things together, the three of us. I was okay, like really okay with not going. I even suggested that he take Brooklyn and go with one of his girlfriends. I did not mind. He’d get really pissed though.
“Why, Jericho? Why don’t you want to go too?”
“Because I don’t want to. I do not need to go,” I’d say to him. “Why do you want me to?”
“Because you’re Brooklyn’s mother. I want you to go.”
What the hell ever was how I felt, and he’d always include me. I did not want to be included though. I just wanted something else. We managed to spend equal time with Brooklyn in the months to follow. Lyulle would come over to visit us. He’d bought me a brand-new bedroom suit, and he’d sent me to the store to buy Brooklyn one too. Why he’d done this, I do not know. It was a nice gesture though, I thought. I said thank you and slept my pregnant ass in it.
I made some friends and some acquaintances. People were really nice to me. I was a customer service representative, and it was my job to be nice, but people genuinely cared about me, it seemed. It did not matter to me much. The person I wanted to love me and whom I wanted to love had thoroughly rejected me. I knew he was seeing other people. It hurt, but I couldn’t be mad. I just wanted him to completely leave me alone if I could not have all of him. I would not cheat on him anymore. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway. I had forgotten how to love him.
He’d support me and Brooklyn. By the time Brooklyn’s baby brother came into the world, I was well prepared. Having done this before and promising myself this time would not be like the last time, I was totally prepared. I saved items from Brooklyn’s baby life—blankets, outfits worn and unworn, car seats, and toys. I was much too excited and ready.
I worked up until a week before Brooklyn’s little brother was due to arrive. Labor was an experience to behold. He was only a week past his due date, and labor started slow as a bugging, burning pain in my abdomen. Lyulle cooked biscuits, sausages, and gravy. I was actually surprised he was being so nice to even cook dinner for me. I stopped working a week prior because of false labor that pained me to the point of going to the hospital twice in one day. I had thought it was time then, so this day, I wanted to be sure. I took a bath at 10:30 p.m. and washed up really good. I began packing for the hospital. Lyulle stood by.
He’d asked me ten times, “Is it time?” I think he was actually excited.
“Well, I want to be sure. You think we could have sex to make sure this time? I heard there was something about those juices that induce labor.”
He said, “Sure, let’s do it.”
And we did, right there on the living room floor for nearly fifteen or twenty minutes. I was having contractions the whole time but no real pain. After the sex, I stood to my feet. Yeah, it was on now. It was the real thing. Contractions started kicking in my ass fast. I beat Lyulle and Brooklyn to the car. The pain was crazy. I wanted to drop to my knees.
Finally in the car, Lyulle speed-raced to OSU Medical, and we heard sirens. Really? Sirens? We were getting pulled over for speeding. My contractions were three minutes apart. I could hardly speak.
“I am having a baby here,” I yelled to the two young cops.
Instead of leading us to the hospital, they followed us there. I made it. This baby was coming. I felt him, and he was killing me. Up on the maternity ward, the doctors and nurses heard me before they saw me, and when they saw me, they welcomed me and got me ready.
I was still not on the best terms with Gem and the family, but I kept them informed about how we were doing from time to time since I’d returned home with Brooklyn. I did not call them to tell them of the baby’s arrival until after he was born. Brooklyn’s little brother came into the world complete with mother, father, and big brother all in the room together—a family, all love and all smiles for the moment.
I was now on a new plateau and listening to Ashanti’s boisterous lyrics from the hit album Foolish. This CD was the dopest, another of the few that shaped my visions of love. See, Ashanti’s lyrics, in my opinion, touch on the emotions and real-life experiences that women my age deal with, including insecurities. I love this fucking CD, and I’d buy it twenty more times.
“The feeling is strong, coming on, and I knew I wanted you. I’m afraid to let my love go, got me scared of you.” Oh, so true. There is only a certain type of man that can achieve that mental level that can have woman afraid to let her love go. Either he is too good to be true or he’s the truth. The trick is to find out which one he is before you get burned or fall in love, and it’s really a catch-22 because either way, you lose.
At least we were talking. We were cordial for the weeks following the birth of our second child, Brooklyn’s little brother. Ms. Byrd had come to stay with me for a few weeks to help with the baby. She was always good to the boys. She had moved out of state shortly after seeing my eye blacked for the first time, and she’d known then who had given it to me.
Lyulle and I slept together, but Lyulle was seeing and sleeping with other people. I’d asked him humbly one time who he was sleeping with, and he’d answered me he was sleeping with everyone but me. That shit stuck with me like Always tampons. I mean that shit wounded my womb. I was still fucking him, you see, through it all.
“J, come up here. Put the baby down,” Lyulle said to me as I walked into my place, which he was staying in. He always had a key to my place. My place was his place. Wherever I was, he was home. Shit.
I obeyed and follow him up the stairs. Standing there in pumps and my work uniform, I was baffled. He had made the bed, and I thought he wanted me to get in it with him.
“Okay, lay down.” Lyulle directed me to the bed.
I was thinking, Oh, he wants to get freaky. What does he have up his sleeve? He wants something that one of his bitches has him fucked up over. Nevertheless, we got in it, and I prepared to dress for my second job of the day—being Mommy.