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It had been my third week at home since being laid off, and to plainly put it, I was more than pissed. This whole Mr. Mom thing was cramping my style. I had become accustomed to sitting in my cubicle analyzing consumer trends, then, all of a sudden, I'm getting up every morning fixing waffles and French toast and packing lunches for my kids and wife. "Cameron! Chantel! Hurry up and finish your food before the bus gets here!" I instructed as I spread Miracle Whip on their turkey and cheese sandwiches and placed Capris Sun juice pouches in their brown paper bags.
"Hey Malcolm, do we have any leftover pot roast and cabbage from last night?" my wife, Jena inquired as she religiously scurried through the house looking for a specific pair of high heel pumps to match her blouse and skirt like she did every morning.
"Yeah, baby, I just put the last of it in a Tupperware dish. I'm about to put it in your lunch bag with your Cherry Pepsi. I'm gonna leave it right here by the microwave so you won't forget it. Hey Cameron! Chantel! The bus is out here!" I shouted, sounding just like my mother when I was younger.
"Thanks honey. Ooh! Look at the time. I gotta go. Ugh! I know this traffic is gonna be bumper to bumper. I'll see you later, boo. Oh! And Malcolm, I'm not sure yet, but I may or may not be working overtime tonight. Carl has a big project that he'll been needing help with to assure that he meets the end of the month deadline. There's a good chance he might ask me to stay an hour or two," Jena informed me as she placed her bags on her shoulder.
"Aw, come on, Jena! You've been working overtime for the past six weeks. I was thinking we could have a nice romantic dinner and catch a movie tonight. I can call my mother to see if she’ll watch the kids. Come on, baby, please. We need to spend some quality time together," I petitioned as I gave her my signature puppy dog look.
"Malcolm, sweetie, I promise we’ll get to spend some time together soon, but right now isn't a good time. The mortgage, the kids' tuition, the cable bill, and my car note is due. I mean, these bills ain't gonna pay themselves. I gotta do what I gotta do to supplement the income you're not bringing in. Before you lost your job, we were fine, but that little unemployment check you get every two weeks just ain't gonna cut. Instead of talking about dinner and a movie, you need to be on one of those job sites trying to get an interview. I can't take care of this family all by myself!" she exclaimed as she grabbed her car keys off of the granite countertop.
"What do you mean take care of this family all by yourself? Jena, when have you ever held down the household expenses without me contributing something? You’re talking out of the side of your neck, woman. You got me all the way messed up this morning, and I..."
"We'll talk later, Malcolm, I promise. But look, I gotta go before I get stuck in this rush hour traffic then mess around and be late for work," Jena swiftly interjected as she darted out the door with her company-issued, insulated stainless steel, coffee mug in hand.
Suddenly, something told me to look over at the TV mounted on the kitchen wall. Soon as I fixed my eyes on the screen, I see this prick, Jonathan Miller, the CEO of Mega Corp, the company I had recently been let go from, being interviewed on the Wake Up North America Show by Jim Preston. It made me sick to my stomach watching him lie through his veneer teeth. I couldn't believe he had the audacity to get on camera and say that he cared the about his employees and how the company puts the well-being of the workers first before their executives. Truth is he and his board of directors were only concerned with the bottom line, even if it meant laying off three thousand workers so their shareholders could make a profit.
Meanwhile, it was a quarter past eight, and I was in my pajamas and house shoes waiting to call the Department of Unemployment so that I could certify for my so-called benefits. After cursing at the TV as the show concluded, I noticed that my wife had left her lunch bag on top of the microwave. Being the good husband that I am, opposed to having her turn around and come back home, I decided to bring it to her job so she wouldn't have to spend any unnecessary money eating out on lunch.
Having nothing but time on my hands until the kids got out of school, I had my whole day ahead of me. I threw on a t-shirt, some sweat pants, and my black and gray Nike Air Max and proceeded to my car. I stepped outside into my driveway and admired my orange Dodge Challenger with the black stripes, looking oh so beautiful. It was my pride and joy considering I had just paid it off in full a week before had I been let go. It's all I had to show for the eight years that I had given to Mega Corp.
I took a moment to wallow in my sorrows, but my grim thoughts slowly subsided as I got on the open road to clear my head. Before I knew it, I was pulling into the parking lot of Nate E. Gray and Associates LLC, where Jena was employed. I had stopped and picked up a bouquet of roses to show my appreciation for all the hard work she had been putting in. I thought I was going give her a pleasant surprise; yet, instead, I was one surprised.
I rode the elevator up to the ninth floor where her office was located, and as soon as the doors opened, I saw Jena's manager, Carlton Bergstrom pinch her on her left love handle, which I felt was very inappropriate.
I can't lie; that made my blood boil. Before I knew it, I sternly called out her name as if she was one of the kids.
Their backs were facing me, but when my wife turned around and saw me standing there with the 'I will kill everybody in this building' look on my face, she quickly stepped to the side and distanced herself from him. "Hey honey, what are you doing here?" she said in an innocent tone, but her body language said otherwise.
"You forgot your lunch, so I brought it up here for you. I also stopped and grabbed these flowers just as a token of my appreciation for all that you do as a wife and mother," I then responded in a monotone voice as I kept one eye on her and the other on him.
"Aw! Honey, that was really sweet, but you didn't have to come all the way down here to do that," Jena said with an awkward look on her face as if she didn't want to accept the flowers in front of her boss.
Before I could speak, this ol' Jack Nicholson from the 'Shining' looking fool decided to open his mouth and say something to the extent of, "hey Jena, you certainly are lucky to have a guy like Mitchell at home to run errands and keep the house tidy.”
Now, as you can imagine, I was already offended by him calling me the wrong name, then I took it as if he was taking subtle jabs at my unemployment. A part of me wanted to cuss him out and punch him in the face, but I didn't wanna be the angry, violent black man that day. Instead, I said to myself, You know what? I shouldn't have to check him; Jena should've checked him. So since my wife didn't check him, I'm gonna check her for not checking him from the get-go.
In the midst of the brief silence, I turned Carlton's smile upside down when I corrected him. "Ay nah, bruh, my name’s not Mitchell, it's Malcolm, and if you don't mind, I’d like a moment to speak with my wife in private."
Carlton's eyes dilated along with his weird psychotic smile. "Of course you can; no problem. Oh! And please forgive me, I'm terrible with names. I didn't mean to burst your bubble, Michael. Ha! Huh Ha! Huh Ha Ha! Haaaa! Good seeing you again. Hey Jena, I'll be in my office looking over the reports from yesterday. When you're done with your husband, why don't you stop by so we can crunch some of these numbers before we submit the results. Get it? Crunch...some numbers," Carlton instructed as he continued to cackle in his annoying voice.
"Sure! Sure, Carl, just give me about fifteen minutes, and I'll be right there," Jena sputtered as she turned away and rapidly marched me in back towards her personal office. Once behind closed doors, she gabbled. "Malcolm, what the hell is wrong with you coming to my job, trying to jump hard with my boss. I can't afford to lose this job, or we both gonna be at home looking stupid."
"Looking stupid? You the one got me looking stupid. I come and bring you flowers, and I catch your boss man getting free feels on you like it's sweet. What's up with you letting ol' boy squeeze all in your burger patties like that?" I asked, knowing she couldn't provide a reasonable explanation.
"My burger patties? Malcolm, what are you talking about?" Jena questioned with a confused expression on her face.
"Burger patties! You know what I'm talking about, that tummy meat that pokes out on the side and kind of feels like pizza dough," I described as I pointed at her small belly.
"You're talking about my love handles? Malcolm, calm down. Carl, was just joking with me about how lately the big wigs in the company have been treating us to all types of food and how we both have gained a couple of pounds. That's all; he didn't mean anything by it. He's just a very hands-on type of person, but trust me, he's harmless. I really do appreciate you bringing my lunch and that beautiful bouquet of kaleidoscope roses. That was a really sweet gesture, honey and I love them. I really do.
“You know, I've always been sort of shy when it comes to public displays of affection. I also know all you want is some quality time with me, and trust me, that time is coming very soon. Just bear with me, hun. I promise, in a few weeks or so, this whole project we're working on will be all wrapped up. But I do have to admit, Carl giving me all this extra time is truly a blessing."
I couldn't contain myself any longer. I guess I felt slighted that my wife would give praise to another man outside of me. "Blessing? I wouldn't call taking time away from your family a blessing. If I didn't know any better, I would think that you purposely work extra hours just so you can spend more time with him."
Jena cackled as if I’d told the world’s funniest joke with perfect timing and punchline execution. "You're kidding, right? I refuse to believe that you're that insecure. I mean, for crying out loud, Carlton's old enough to be my father. If anything, you should be thanking him. Without this extra money, who knows where we would be right now."
"We would be just fine like we've always been. We’re survivors, and we’d get through this like we have every other trial and tribulation we've faced. My season is coming, I can feel it. I’ll be back on my feet in no time. We have to trust God and not man. Carlton isn't the source of our blessings, God is," I reminded her as I looked her in the eyes and held both of her hands in a reassuring manner.
"Yeah! Yeah! Malcolm, I hear all that, but I'm not trying to gamble with our children's lives. I'm not willing to take the risk of Cameron and Chantel being hungry or out in the street homeless because we failed them as parents. So until you get your act together, I gotta do what I gotta do. Now look, I gotta go. We’ll discuss this further when I get home," she chastised me as she escorted me out of her office.
I felt lowly and less of a man as I stepped on the elevator feeling a sense of worthlessness.