Mon, 23 Dec 2024 10:59:09 -0500WeeblyMon, 23 Dec 2024 15:29:21 GMThttps://vanessamoorellc.com/committed/epilogue​Marsha’s nerves did not take hold until she saw Jeremy standing in the church vestibule. Alan squeezed her hand and she knew she had his support no matter what. She went out of her way over the last fifteen years to avoid Jeremy. Oliver was big enough to be sent to or dropped off to his father without her involvement and she liked it that way. She never thought about what it would be like to see him, even when Oliver informed her that he was indeed coming up from Miami for his wedding. Now feelings that she didn’t know she had fought to manifest in her movements.
Immediately she noticed, he’d gained a lot of weight and his hair was completely grey, even his mustache was grey. She touched her own greying hair, glad that for now she only had a streak of grey. His dark suit lay nicely on his now, even larger frame. Other than the grey and the weight, she could see he was the same old Jeremy though. She half expected to see a woman at his side. To her knowledge, he was never alone. She knew that he and Desiré spent some time together, at least the first year of their separation. When she sent Oliver down to Miami for a few weeks in the summer, he returned talking about Miss Des. Marsha didn’t ask too many questions because she wasn’t interested in knowing much.
They managed their divorce proceedings without having to physically cross paths and this gave Marsha the space to heal and reconcile with her family as well as herself. Every weekend was spent at church, and every school break was spent traveling. She started off simply taking Oliver to different states. Then they added Canada, Mexico, and Costa Rica to their itineraries. The more they traveled, the more Marsha was addicted to it. She was the happiest she had ever been and couldn’t fathom how she lived life all those years not doing what she set out to do, with a man who claimed to be in love with her, but was so profoundly selfish and did not compromise.
Meeting Alan, or rather getting to know him sealed the deal. He was a member of the church she joined with Paige. They said hello in passing, and Marsha wasn’t sure when it happened, but gradually they talked more and more. Alan later admitted that it was deliberate. He told her he thought she was beautiful, but he knew she was newly divorced, as was he. He figured he had to at least pursue a friendship with her. He said that there was something about her he was drawn to. When he found out much she enjoyed traveling, he said that was it. She was meant to be his travel partner.
They became a traveling foursome, Marsha, Alan, his son Shane, and Oliver. Having experienced nothing but negativity in her past when it came to love, Marsha carefully allowed herself to fall in love with Alan. This time she could say, none of it felt like a mistake.
Now as she arrived at the church where Oliver would be married, and she locked eyes with her ex-husband, she hoped Oliver would be happy. She prayed in the back of her mind that he was not tussling with himself about the decision he made.
“Marsha,” Jeremy said, grinning.
“Jeremy,” Marsha replied, just to acknowledge him.
“You look beautiful as always,” he said looking her over.
“This is my husband, Alan,” Marsha said, letting him know, whatever he had in mind, she had her man there with her.
She could see Jeremy force himself to smile. “Hey how ya doin man?” Jeremy shook Alan’s hand without taking his eyes off Marsha.
“Nice to meet you,” Alan said, also going through the motions.
Oliver entered the vestibule, visibly nervous.
“Ollie-boy,” Marsha and Jeremy said in unison.
Oliver looked at both of them, but moved to his mother’s side.
“You okay?” she asked.
“I think this is the cold feet everybody talks about,” he mumbled to his mother.
“You asked her to marry you?” Marsha asked him.
Oliver nodded.
“And she said yes?” Marsha continued.
Oliver nodded his head again.
“Okay. Everything will be fine son. Dis is a big change. It’s normal to be nervous, but neither of you are forced to be here. You both made di choice to spend your lives together. Everything will be just fine son.”
Oliver’s face relaxed a bit. “Thank you Mom,” he said bending down to kiss her on the cheek.
She noticed how intently Jeremy watched the entire interaction, and she secretly hoped he caught the message between the words she said to her son. Then she looked at Alan and cupped his chin. “My boy is gettin married.” She smiled. “I’m so glad to have you here to witness this with me.”
Alan smiled back at her. With that, Marsha’s heart rate finally slowed to a normal pace and she knew that what she said to her son was right. Everything would be just fine.
*****
Marsha was still beautiful as ever. The streak of grey in her hair gave her an extra glow. He ran his hand over his grey hair, wondering what she thought when she saw him. She still had the build of an eighties runway model. She reminded him of Diana Ross in Mahogany and he imagined that’s what she must have looked like traveling all over the world with Alan. He looked Alan up and down when all the other eyes were on Oliver. He’d heard more than he wanted to about the fellow who’d come along and swept Marsha off her feet. He was slightly shorter than Jeremy, but much slimmer. He looked like he worked out. As far as Jeremy knew he was around Marsha’s age, so perhaps age had allowed him the better physical build. These thoughts forced him to tug at his suit jacket and straighten his posture. He had to admit, they looked like a Black Barbie and Ken, and he didn’t know if the view would be the same if he were standing in Alan’s place.
Jeremy and Alan escorted Marsha down the aisle at Oliver’s request. The three of them presented Oliver to his in-laws with the promise that they’d raised a trustworthy young man that would build a safe and happy home for their daughter. Jeremy looked over at Alan wishing he was not a part of the ceremony. He had half a mind to tell Oliver that if Alan had to be a part of the ceremony that he wouldn’t do it. But lately Oliver was voicing more and more disappointment with him as a father. He would just have to eat this loss.
He considered bringing a date. He had a few options in Miami, but he knew none of them could hold a candle to Marsha. If he was going to show up with someone, she had to be of equal caliber or better. Other than Desiré, he hadn’t encountered many. When he did, things didn’t last, so he stopped putting effort into committment.
During the reception, Jeremy found Oliver sitting alone watching the festivities.
“Ollie-boy,” he said as he pulled up a seat next to his only son. “You okay?”
Oliver nodded.
“Still feeling those cold feet?”
Oliver shook his head.
“You sure?” Jeremy probed for any sign of apprehension in his son.
“I’m good Dad,” Oliver said, taking a sip of champagne.
“I mean, I know how it can be son. You get married thinking things are gonna go a certain way and then the next thing you know, its not at all like you planned or expected.”
“You know a lot about that, huh?” Oliver said, facing his father. “You learned a lot in your one marriage to my mother.”
“I mean—yeah,” Jeremy went on. “It taught me a lot.”
“Not enough,” Oliver snickered.
“I’m just sayin, however you’re feeling son, I understand and I’m here for you.” Jeremy placed a hand on Oliver’s shoulder.
Just then, the photographer walked up. “Perfect photo-op!” he shouted over the music.
With that, Jeremy leaned in close to Oliver’s side. The two smiled as the camera flashed.
“Nice!” the photographer called out and walked off to find another good shot.
“I just want you to be okay, son,” Jeremy threw in once more.
“Dad I’m fine. I love my wife. I wanna be with her and only her, and I didn’t need any convincing of that.” Oliver looked directly into Jeremy’s eyes.
“That’s good Ollie-boy,” Jeremy said, getting the message.
A soca song started playing and Oliver stood and started dancing towards the dance floor. Jeremy sat back and watched. “One good thing—no, one great thing came out of this,” he said to himself, and polished off Oliver’s champagne. 
THE END
]]>Mon, 23 Dec 2024 15:27:55 GMThttps://vanessamoorellc.com/committed/chapter-seventeen​Marsha had been staying with Paige for several months before she found a new place. She was elated and proud of herself when she found a new two-bedroom apartment on the first floor of a private house in North Bergen County. Everything about it was just right for her and Oliver. She took Oliver to see it when she went to pay her deposit and sign the lease. Oliver was thrilled but confused because Marsha still hadn’t explained to him what occurred between her and Jeremy. She avoided the topic because she didn’t want him to hurt. She knew she would have to tell him the truth, so she sort of just waited until he asked.
“What about Dad?” he asked as Marsha drove away from what would be their new abode.
“He’s not going to live with us anymore,” Marsha said, not taking her eyes off the road.
“Why not? Are you guys getting a divorce?”
Marsha was stunned by his last question. What the hell did this kid know about divorce? But Marsha mentally answered herself. You’re not raising him in a bubble, she thought. “Yes. We’re gettin a divorce,” she answered honestly.
“Because of the peanut butter accident?”
They stopped at a red light and Marsha happened to look at Oliver. He looked back at her and then quickly looked away to hide the tears forming in his eyes. Marsha’s heart dropped at the sight.
“No,” she said, feeling tears welling in her own eyes. “No Ollie-boy. Why you think dat?”
“Cuz you guys started fighting that night after it happened and you been fighting ever since.”
Marsha couldn’t focus on driving so she pulled over. She took a deep breath as she searched for the right words to explain to her nine-year-old son that she was fed up with his father, that she’d caught him cheating and had proof, that she was unhappy because his father offered a certain life and never made good on it. “Sometimes—” Marsha thought she’d pieced something together but when she opened her mouth it was gone. She tried again. “Sometimes grown-ups—” she was stuck again.
Oliver waited patiently.
“Remember when we went to that Italian restaurant in the city and you asked for the ziti?” she asked him, in terms she thought he would understand.
Oliver nodded.
“Remember I told you, ‘this is authentic Italian food. The ziti may not taste like how I make it at home’?”
Oliver nodded again.
“And what happened?” Marsha asked.
“I didn’t believe you,” Oliver confessed. “And it was nasty.”
“I’m sure it wasn’t nasty,” Marsha said as she let out a little chuckle. “But I know it didn’t taste like you expected at all.”
Oliver shook his head.
“So that’s what can happen with adults sometimes. We want something because we think it’s going to be a certain way and then when we get it and it’s not what we wanted, we have to be honest with ourselves and move on.”
Oliver raised an eyebrow.
“Am I making sense?” Marsha asked.
“A little,” he said. “You mean you thought you wanted to be married but you found out you don’t like it?”
“Not quite. It’s more like, me and Daddy had a plan and the plan didn’t go the way we wanted. So we had to be honest with ourselves and try living separately.”
Oliver nodded. “It might be better this way,” he said, shocking Marsha.
“Really?” she asked.
“Yeah,” Oliver went on. “Even though you been crying at Tanty-Paige’s house, you go to work happier.”
“Ha,” was all Marsha could say.
“So what are we getting for dinner tonight Mom?” Oliver asked, shifting in his seat as if he were ready for Marsha to start the car back up.
“Whatever you want Ollie-boy,” she said pulling away from the curb.
*****
“I invited Sheila over dis weekend,” Paige told Marsha, when she and Oliver arrived back home.
Marsha smacked her lips. “Okay.” She threw up her arms.
“Mi just want to know if der’s gonna be in problems,” Paige asked as she followed Marsha to the second bedroom she was sharing with Oliver.
“I know you guys are close,” Marsha said. “And I wouldn’t disrespect ya place like dat.”
“Oh, okay,” Paige said, sounding relieved.
Marsha tried to think of somewhere for her and Oliver to go while Sheila visited that Saturday, but when the time rolled around, she realize that was pointless. She was tired of running from people and situations. She was tired of keeping up a front. She and Jeremy lasted for over a decade, and she’d been covering up all his flaws all that time in hopes that he would eventually be who she wanted him to be, but it was to no avail. What was she hiding for now? Sheila would surely find out from Paige what happened if she didn’t know already. She was done. She had nothing to be ashamed of and she finally realized there was no comparison between her and her mother. When faced with concrete evidence of his cheating, Marsha left. When living evidence of Delmont’s cheating showed up on Lucinda’s doorstep, she did nothing. They were indeed two very different women.
Marsha felt a tinge of anxiety when Paige let Sheila and her sons Maurice and Devon into the apartment. She’d heard that though she and Scratches never married, they were still together. Marsha almost didn’t recognize her at first. Sheila had gained a lot of weight and she’d loc’d her hair. Her face was full and her locs hung down past her still small waist, and rested on her rounded out hips. Marsha hadn’t gained more than ten pounds since having Oliver. Looking at Sheila she wished she’d had another child just to get her body like her’s. The issue with their blood types threw a wrench in that idea though.
Sheila smiled when they made eye contact. “Marsha,” she said, walking across the room with her arms outstretched.
Marsha stood from the armchair that she was relaxing in and hugged her cousin. The embrace almost brought her to tears. Sheila stepped back and squeezed Marsha’s hands. “You look good,” she said looking into Marsha’s eyes.
“No you look good,” Marsha exclaimed.
Sheila sucked her teeth. “Mi put on so much weight.”
“But ya look good ah rass wit ya new big bamsee!” Marsha swatted her cousin’s behind.
“And you still look like ah one runway model,” Sheila gushed.
The women talked for hours, catching up and reminiscing on their childhood. They ordered Chinese food and when everything arrived, Paige took the bags into the kitchen to dish up the plates and serve the kids first.
“Sheila,” Marsha said, stealing the lone moment. “Muh sorry about how mi left all those years ago.”
“Don’t worry yaself,” Sheila said. “Things happen. Sisters fight. We cousins but we was like sisters ya know. Mi wanted di best for you. But only you know what is di best for you.”
“But you was right about him,” Marsha admitted.
“If ya never left, ya never woulda had Oliver, and what would ya life be without ya baby boy?”
Marsha sniffed back tears. “You were only tryin to look out for me.”
“I was,” said Sheila. “But it is what it is Marsha. Mi love you still.”
“Mi love you too,” Marsha said with a smile.
“Okay, okay, everybody love everybody,” Paige said reentering the conversation. “Now let’s pour up some more drinks.”
*****
It was after eleven o’clock on a Friday night and Desiré still wasn’t home. Jeremy paced the living room for a while before calling her cell phone for the third time. She wasn’t answering. He showered and proceeded to wait in the living room with a bottle of Barbancourt. There he fell asleep on the couch. Hours later he awoke to Desiré shaking him.
“Don’t you have a flight soon?” she asked. “Why would you sit here and get drunk?”
“Where you been?” Jeremy asked, glancing at the clock.
“Out,” Desiré stated in a matter-of-fact tone. “I told you I was goin out with my girls.”
“What girls?” Jeremy interrogated as he rose from the couch. He stumbled trying to keep up with Desiré who was halfway down the hall, going into the bedroom.
“My friends, Jeremy,” she said in a huff. “Qué paso? What’s the problem?”
“Why didn’t you answer your phone?” Jeremy countered.
“I don’t know,” Desiré said waving him off. She kicked off her shoes, and tossed her hair up into a quick bun. She went into the bathroom, started the shower, then marched back into the bedroom, and started shuffling through her dresser drawers. “My phone was down in my purse. The music was live. I was having a good time, not paying attention to my phone.”
“Look,” Jeremy said firmly. “I’m not a fan of this partying two and three days a week.”
“What?” Desiré stopped when she found what she was looking for, and stood holding a nightgown in her hand. “I don’t party two and three days a week.”
“You go out a lot,” he said.
“So?”
“So, I’m here now. Your man is here with you. You don’t go out like that when you have  a man at home.”
A heavy laugh erupted from what seemed to be the pit of Desiré’s stomach.
Jeremy felt a heat rising up from his feet.
Desiré attempted to stop but she struggled. “You’re serious?” she half-questioned.
“Hell yeah, I’m serious,” Jeremy said becoming furious.
Desiré’s eyes shifted as she looked him from head to toe. “Is this what you think this relationship is about to be? You think you’re gonna move in my house and tell me what to do? You think you’re gonna control me? Give me a curfew or something? Hell no! If you think that’s what it’s gonna be, you can take your ass back to New Jersey. Go back to your boring wife.”
Seeing red, Jeremy charged across the room and glared down at Desiré.
“Watchchu gonna do?” she said, not backing down. “Hit me? Is that what you were doing to keep Marsha in check? That’s not gonna work here.”
“I never hit Marsha,” Jeremy snarled. “And don’t compare yourself to her.”
“You have a flight in a few hours,” Desiré reminded him. “Take a nap and sober up so you don’t miss it.” She turned away from him with a sharpness that almost knocked him over.
Feeling like he didn’t want to sleep next to her, Jeremy went out into the living room and made himself comfortable on the couch again. He stretched out his long legs and set an alarm on his cell phone. She was right, he did have a flight to catch. He was heading back to New Jersey to meet with a band and he carved out some time to spend with Oliver. As he dozed he started to consider looking for another apartment in Miami. Perhaps moving in with Desiré was too much too soon. He should’ve given her more time to get used to him being there. This couldn’t be the end of them too. They reconnected for a reason. Marsha found out about them for a reason. He didn’t feel right when he first moved in with Desiré, but he expected it to take a little time. Now he wasn’t sure he would ever feel settled with her.
]]>Mon, 23 Dec 2024 15:25:39 GMThttps://vanessamoorellc.com/committed/chapter-sixteen​Chapter Sixteen
Marsha’s hands trembled as she dialed the Miami phone number on her cell phone. Her belly began to ache when the phone started to ring but she couldn’t bring herself to hang up. Paige said it was a bad idea to make the call, so Marsha waited until she had a moment alone.
“Hello?” the familiar voice nearly gagged her.
“Eh hem, um is this Desiré Almonte?” Marsha stammered.
“Yes. Who is calling?” her old friend, new enemy asked.
Marsha inhaled. “Dis is Marsha.”
There was a pause on the other end. “Marsha? Lindo?”
“Marsha Anthony,” Marsha corrected her.
“Pardon,” said Desiré.
“I always thought about what it would be like to reconnect wit you,” Marsha said, her nerves no longer holding her up. “I never thought it would be like dis.”
“I didn’t think so either,” Desiré admitted.
There was a long silence before either of them spoke again. Marsha hadn’t given much thought to what she wanted to say or how she wanted the conversation to go. She wished they’d gotten in touch earlier. In fact, she wished she hadn’t been so cold the last time she saw Desiré when they were teenagers.
“How’ve you been?” Desiré asked, finally.
Marsha was caught off guard by the question. “As good as can be expected.” There was another pause before she got really honest. “Desiré, I know you been sleepin wit muh husband.”
“Marsha, I—”
“Jus let me say muh piece,” Marsha begged.
Desiré allowed her the moment.
“I know about you and Jeremy. Muh find out like three weeks ago. I’m guessin maybe he told you by now. I just need to know if and how long you knew about me.”
Marsha could hear Desiré sniffling on the other end. She felt no sympathy for her. How dare she cry, she asked herself? I have been the one suffering with him and his problem with keeping his dick in his pants for all these years.
Desiré cleared her throat to speak. “I found out maybe a year into my relationship with Jeremy.”
The word relationship was like a punch in the stomach for Marsha. “Oh,” was all she could say.
“I ran into him in Haiti about nine years ago and we been in contact ever since,” Desiré stopped explaining.
“So, you knew it was me and you continued?”
“Marsha,” Desiré almost whined. “The last time we saw each other, you never wanted to speak to me again.”
“So?” Marsha said shrieked.
“So I don’t owe you anything!” Desiré shrieked back. “If anybody should feel a way, it should be me. You knew that I was in love with him when we were kids!”
“Do you hear ya-self?” Marsha asked. “Kids! We were kids! We are grown women now. I feel like you did dis because of how our relationship ended when we were kids!”
“It really had nothing to do with you, Marsha. I loved him and I wanted him. He gave me an inch so I took a mile. We’re adults, there was no one to stop us—”
“Except his wife and son. Maybe you don’t owe me anything. Maybe you’re mad at me for how our friendship fell apart, but my son?” Marsha broke down and her words became coated with sobs. “My son is innocent, and he deserves for his parents to treat each other right.”
“Are you blaming me for how Jeremy treated y’all?” Desire asked. “When you really think about it, I was with him first.” Desiré hiccuped. “He’s the love of my life, Marsha. It should’ve been me that he married.”
Marsha was stunned. “If it was supposed to be you, it would’ve been,” she said calmly.
The silence returned, except for the two of them sniffling in each other’s ears.
“Y’know, I saw you guys together, years ago in a club in Miami. You were in a VIP section with his family. I didn’t know it was you. I just knew he had a girlfriend. He came to me, tried to talk to me and I told him to get the hell away from me. How dare he try to talk to me when he had a girlfriend, there—in the same club? But I instantly regretted it and I tried calling his parents’ house. I tried, for a long time to contact him, but eventually I gave up. Then, like I said, we ran into each other in Haiti.”
Marsha thought about that night in Miami and the light-skinned girl with thick black hair and the acrylic nails. She’d been in the same space with the person she thought about everyday. The person she thought she missed for years. The only friend she’d ever had. “I just wanted to clear di air,” she said after some time. “I hoped to get our friendship back, but maybe it never was what I thought it was.”
“Maybe we were both wrong,” said Desiré.
Marsha hung up the phone feeling light as a feather. It didn’t necessarily go wrong, but it went.
*****
Later that evening, Paige and Oliver returned home from seeing a movie. A few years prior, Paige found an apartment not too far from Marsha. They spoke once in a while, but their sisterhood struggled to find its footing. When Marsha calmed down after finding out about Jeremy’s affair, she called Paige. She had nowhere else to go. Surprisingly, Paige was willing to support her. Together they cleared Marsha and Oliver’s belongings out of her place with Jeremy. She left Marsha to hang the evidence on her own though.
Both of them put Oliver to bed, and then sat at Paige’s dining table for a cup of tea.
Marsha was proud of how well her sister was doing for herself. She thought about Delmont and Lucinda in their old age. They did a hell of a job raising their kids.
“Thank you for everything,” Marsha said as she took a sip of lavender tea.
“We’re sisters,” Paige said as she shrugged her shoulders.
“C’mon,” Marsha laughed a little. “It wasn’t always like dis.”
“No but,” Paige sighed. “I knew all along things weren’t right wit Jeremy. But mi remember how much trouble me give you when we were kids and,” Paige shrugged again, this time adding an eye roll. “Mi remember how much trouble Daddy give when we were kids.” She gave Marsha a knowing eye.
It was Marsha’s turn to shrug.
“I’m sorry Marsha,” Paige said.
Marsha wanted to protest but she realized she needed to hear her sister out.
“It was really hard for me back den,” Paige went on. “Mummy—my mum, was always talkin bout how I needed to live wit muh rich daddy and siblings. I didn’t know how true it was until she dropped me off on di doorstep that day.” That’s when the tears dropped from her eyes. “I’m sorry for being a little jerk dat day, and I’m sorry for being such a terrible teenage sister.”
“Growin up wit a man like Daddy was hard on all of us though,” Marsha reminded her sister. “I’m sorry I took your issues personally.”
“How could you have known better though?” Paige asked.
“I don’t know,” Marsha said, taking another sip of tea to keep her throat lubricated.
“I think what’s important is dat we are here now. I can be here for you now. Muh have dis nice size apartment. Bloomfield is okay.” Paige looked around her apartment and smiled.
“It is,” Marsha said smiling. “I’m proud of you. Ya did well for ya-self.”
Paige smiled and reached for Marsha’s hands across the table. “What’s next?” she asked.
“Hah, divorce,” Marsha said.
“Ya serious?” Paige leaned across the table gasping.
“Yes,” Marsha sighed. “I don’t want to go back. I just want to move forward. He promised me travel, he promised me a house, he promised me a better life wit all the things I wanted. Instead I got his version of a better life wit all the things. He wanted.”
Paige nodded her head slowly, listening to her big sister.
“I don’t know if I can pull it off, but Oliver deserves to live some part of his life in a comfortable home wit a backyard. Some place to park his bike other than di damn doorway.”
“True,” said Paige.
“I want di things Jeremy promised but never made good on. I’m going to get those things. Believe me.”
“I believe you,” Paige said. “And you both deserve to be happy.”
“Yes,” Marsha said, knowing that although she was ready to move forward, she was already missing Jeremy.
“I started going back to church,” Paige suddenly mentioned. “You wanna come wit me one Sunday?”
“Sure,” Marsha replied. She figured, what’s the worst that could happen? Besides, she needed something bigger than her to help reset her life.
*****
Jeremy didn’t feel the way he thought he would when he landed in Miami International Airport. Desiré encouraged him to come down so they could work things out, but he had very little faith that things would go the way she wanted. He was showing up right on the heels of begging Marsha to come home. He felt a little sick as he loaded bags into the trunk of her car. He couldn’t stop thinking about how Marsha was so cold with him over the phone. She refused to see him. She sent Paige to drop Oliver off to him a few times. Even without seeing her, he knew she was as different person. The reserved, adaptable Marsha he’d lived with for the last twelve years was gone. He thought about her face the last time he made love to her and how he anticipated those same feelings when she claimed to be parking the car in the lot the last night he saw her. He failed. He’d lost her forever.
Desiré chatted away on the ride to her house about getting Jeremy settled in and things they could do.
“I gotta go see my parents,” Jeremy interjected, breaking Desiré’s ramble.
“Uh, okay.” Her eyes steadied on the road. “When do you want to do that?”
“Tomorrow,” Jeremy said and released a yawn. He was tired, but he knew a visit to his parents’ and his sister’s house was unavoidable. He couldn’t be in the same city and not let them know. He also needed to tell them that Marsha left him.
“Whatever you need, mi amor,” Desiré said, though her voice went from hopeful to a little solemn.
That night, of course she wanted to make love. From the moment they walked into her house it was as if she were celebrating. She showed him all the spaces that she’d cleared for him to place his own things, and insisted he make himself at home. Jeremy did as she suggested but his heart wasn’t in it. No part of him felt present as he tried to move about the house like he already lived there. They had sex that night, but it wasn’t memorable enough for Jeremy. He felt horrible knowing he was literally just going through the motions with her. But he figured, soon enough would be over Marsha and able to move on.
The next day, he drove her two-door convertible over to his parents’ house.
“Jeremy, kisa wap fè la?” his mother said as she opened the door. He hadn’t told them he was coming.
“I gotta talk to y’all,” Jeremy said barely kissing his mother on the cheek as he entered the house.
Madeline looked outside at the car and then followed Jeremy further into the house, chatting rapidly in Creole behind him.
“Where’s Papi?” he asked.
“He stepped out.” Madeline stood with her hands on her hips. “Jeremy, what is going on? Whose car is that?”
Jeremy called his father on his cell phone, and asked him to come home right away so that they could talk.
Augustine told him he would be home in an hour.
Jeremy walked past Madeline out to the backyard. “I’ll wait for him here,” he said, taking a seat by the pool.
“You come to my house unannounced, you will tell me what’s going on!” Madeline folded her arms staring down at her son.
Jeremy turned his head up to his mother. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Can we please wait for Papi to get here? I need to talk to you both at the same time.”
Madeline huffed and went back into the house.
Jeremy sat nervously shaking his leg. He didn’t know why he was so nervous. His mother never liked Marsha and most of the family simply tolerated her. They all loved Oliver though.
His father came to find him, baking and sweating in the Florida sun.
“What’s going on son?” What are you doing here?” Augustine said as he sat down next to Jeremy.
In less than a minute Madeline stood by to listen.
Jeremy took a deep breath. “Marsha left me.”
“Oh!” Madeline said, throwing up her hands. “No surprise there! She is stuck up! She never belonged with this family anyway.” She sucked her teeth and folded her arms again.
Augustine took a deep breath as he rolled his eyes. “Sa ki te pase?”
Jeremy’s winced. Explaining what happened caused his stomach to rumble and he felt like he was going to be sick. “She found out I was cheating with Desiré,” he said calmly.
“Cheating with Desiré?” Madeline was waving her arms again and yelling in Creole.
Jeremy watched her while his father just shook his head.
“Where did she go?” Augustine asked.
“I figured out she went to her sister Paige’s house,” Jeremy admitted.
“Figured out?” Augustine repeated. “She didn’t tell you where she was going? Where is Oliver?”
“Oliver is with her. The last time I came down here, I went to Haiti from here. I spent three weeks at a resort with Desiré.” Jeremy swallowed. “We been meeting up like this for nine years now. Marsha found out when I was away. When I came back, she packed up and left.” He left out the dramatic details.
“You think you can come back here to live?” Madeline questioned.
Jeremy shook his head. “I uh— I moved in with Desiré. She doesn’t live too far from here actually.”
Madeline sucked her teeth once more and walked off mumbling in Creole about her son couldn’t stay away from stuck up light skinned girls.
“Did you try to apologize?” Augustine asked.
“Yeah,” Jeremy nodded. “A few times. But she won’t even talk to me in person. She only speaks to me on the phone and she uses her sister Paige to bring Oliver to me.”
“Give it time son,” Augustine said, patting his son on the back. “She’ll come back. You guys were together more than ten years. Married for ten. She’ll come back to you.”
“I don’t know Papi,” Jeremy said fighting back tears. “Marsha is stubborn. Once she decides on something, that’s it.”
“It’s been too many years son. She’ll forgive you and you have Oliver together.”
Jeremy wanted to believe his father, but he knew deep down, it was officially over.
]]>Mon, 23 Dec 2024 15:22:25 GMThttps://vanessamoorellc.com/committed/chapter-fifteen​The tension between Marsha and Jeremy remained thick. This was the worst it had been since their early days. Though she kept a stern attitude, Marsha was sad. She already blamed herself for Oliver’s hospital visit and she half expected Jeremy to console her, and tell her she wasn’t a bad mother, remind her that everyone makes mistakes and that parents are not perfect. Instead though, he made her feel worse. Resentment built up and took residence inside of her with the speed of cheap new apartment complex. She couldn’t shake it. No matter what was going on between them before, she was happy to wake up to him. Now, she kept her distance because what she felt now was new to her and she wanted to wait them out. Weeks passed before she even came close.
“I gotta head down to Miami for a few weeks,” Jeremy casually mentioned while the family ate dinner one night. I’m gonna leave Tuesday. I’ll be back at the end of April.”
Marsha mentally noted that he would be gone through her and Oliver’s spring break. “Okay,” she said as she scooped a forkful of baked macaroni and cheese into her mouth.
Oliver, half oblivious to his parents’ drama rambled about school and then about how good dinner was. “I love this Mac and cheese,” he said. “It’s better than the one they make at school. All those kids love it. I tell them it’s just noodles and Velveeta. It’s not like how you make it Mom, with the difference cheeses and the crunch on top.”
Marsha watched as he smacked his lips and licked barbecue sauce off his fingers. “Use a napkin,” she said, shaking her head.
“You think you can take me to the airport?” Jeremy continued.
It was as if they were having three separate dinners.
“Yeah,” Marsha replied.
“My flight leaves at ten,” he said, jabbing at the green beans on his plate.
“Got it,” Marsha said.
“Why’re you going for so long Dad?” Oliver asked.
“I got a lot to take care of son,” Jeremy vaguely responded.
“You know me and Mom got spring break,” Oliver informed. “We should go down there too. Mom you wanna go to Miami? We can see Gran ak Granpapa.”
Marsha fought off a grimace.
“Mommy’s tired of Miami,” Jeremy said sarcastically.
Oliver turned to look at Marsha. “Even if we’re gonna see Gran ak Granpapa?”
“I wouldn’t mind,” Marsha replied. “But I know when Daddy has a lot to do that usual means Granpapa has a lot to do. Remember the family works together in the music industry.”
“So we can’t spend time with Gran?” Oliver was persistent.
“I’ll talk to her about it,” Jeremy claimed.
Marsha stared at him from across the table. She wished he could read her mind. Di nerve of you, she thought. Mad at me for leaving him with your crazy family but you lie right in his face.
When Jeremy’s eyes finally caught with hers, Marsha looked away. She knew he couldn’t read her exact thoughts through her eyes. There was no point in glaring at him so hard.
Jeremy got up from the table, took his plate into the kitchen, and disappeared into the bedroom for the rest of the night.
When Marsha and Oliver finished eating, they cleaned the kitchen together. Most nights, Marsha would go in the bedroom to spend time with Jeremy, but she didn’t care to be close to him that night. In fact, since he mentioned going to Miami, she couldn’t wait for him to leave. She sent Oliver to shower and get ready for bed once the table was cleared, the dishes washed and put away, and the surfaces were wiped down. Stalling and hoping that Jeremy would be asleep when she finally went to bed herself, she decided to get on the computer and check out this thing called Facebook.
Everyone was on it except her it seemed. People were finding long lost relatives and schoolmates, and her coworkers just could not believe she didn’t have an account as well. Marsha wasn’t interested in finding people in past until that moment. After some time, she managed to create an account and the curiosity struck. She started searching for the names of old schoolmates, particularly the ones who had left Antigua. Most of them had private profiles that blocked her from viewing too much of their information or photos. Before she knew it, she’d gone down the rabbit hole of looking up random names she remembered from her childhood.
Marsha nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt Jeremy’s hand on her shoulder. “What are you doing?” he asked.
“Nothing,” she said as her heart pounded in her chest. “I just um, I just made a Facebook.”
“Oh,” said Jeremy. “I see.” He leaned over her shoulder. “You don’t have any friends,” he noted.
“That’s okay.”
Jeremy shrugged his shoulders. “When are you coming to bed?” he asked. “It’s getting late.”
He sounded different, as if somehow the tension had dissolved in the last few hours.
“I’m just gonna look up one more person,” Marsha said, as she quickly typed into the search engine. D-e-s-i-r-é, her fingers clicked.
Jeremy cleared his throat. “Marsha, you’re gonna be really tired in the morning, c’mon stop playing around on here.”
Marsha stopped typing and hit backspace. She closed the site and allowed the computer to shut down. I’ll check for Desiré another time, she thought to herself as she followed Jeremy to bed.
*****
Jeremy had to stop Marsha from looking Desiré up on Facebook and get her into bed. He hoped that she would lose interest in the site altogether. When everyone else was scrambling to join the site, Marsha showed no enthusiasm. It didn’t make sense to Jeremy that of all things that night, he would walk into the living room and find Marsha with a brand new Facebook account, searching for people she knew once upon a time.
As he lay in bed that evening while she was in the living room, he realized he couldn’t sleep without her. He tossed and turned and sleep would not make an appearance. Negative energy and all, he had to get her to join him in bed. An angry Marsha was better than no Marsha at all. When she finally joined him under the covers he wrapped his arms around her and squeezed.
Marsha wiggled a little as if she were trying to get away from him, but Jeremy wouldn’t let her go. He buried his nose in her neck and inhaled the combination of Dr. Bonners, Dove Soap, and Palmers cocoa butter lotion. He could’ve gone to sleep right then, but he didn’t. He felt the urge to do more, and didn’t stop until Marsha finally gave in. This fixes everything, he thought as he entered her in their spoon position.
They’d been together for eleven years, and every time they had sex after a fight or in this case, a period of tension, Jeremy felt he’d resolved everything. In Marsha’s moment of climax,  he felt he’d offered her the greatest apology and she had accepted it. When he released, he released all his ill feelings toward her and saw no need to apologize verbally. He figured, they had an understanding.
A week later, after Marsha dropped him to the airport, he boarded the flight to Miami with complete confidence that his marriage was back to where it was, where it needed to be. He felt it was back to perfect. When he landed in Miami, he stopped by his parents, stayed for one night, and in the morning, boarded another flight to Haiti. Everything was back on track with Marsha and he would have nothing to fear while he was in Haiti with Desirè.
Desiré’s eyes shone like Christmas lights as Jeremy made his way through the throngs of people leaving immigration. His steps felt lighter as they almost glided toward each other. He scooped Desiré into his arms, raising her less than an inch off the ground, as she was as tall as Marsha, and kissed her deeply. Haiti was where their story began, and Haiti was where they often met. It is where they felt most comfortable with each other.
For three weeks at Hotel Satama, they would bask in each other’s presence. Every night Jeremy would sneak off to call Marsha and Oliver, then he would return to Desiré to continue as if she were his only concern in the world. They ate all of their meals together, made love, and doted on each other day in and day out. Other than to call Marsha and Oliver, Jeremy sometimes stepped away to deal with the business of the bands. This was an annual routine and Jeremy was satisfied with it. As far as he was concerned, he’d rectified everything with Marsha, nothing negative was brewing between him and Desiré, and so, all was right with his world.
After one of his nightly phone calls with his wife and son, Jeremy went back into his hotel room to enjoy dinner with Desiré.
“Y’know,” Desiré began. “I thought by now you would be past this routine. But now I see, this is just the way it works with you.”
Not having a clue what she was talking about, all Jeremy could only respond with, “Huh?”
Desiré put her fork down and stared at him solemnly. “Do you remember when we met?” she asked.
Jeremy tried to bring the moment into his mind’s eye.
“In the airport,” Desiré continued. “Our flight to Miami was delayed. We were both flying with our families.”
“You were only thirteen,” Jeremy recalled.
Desiré nodded. “I have loved you ever since,” she said softly.
Jeremy waited to see what she was getting at as she recollected their past together.
“It’s like, I knew when we ran into each other here, nine years ago, that since you were married, we would never be married, but for some reason I didn’t believe it. For some reason, I thought you would eventually leave your wife for me.”
Jeremy was stunned. He never saw this coming. Desiré never expressed that she wanted more, so as far as he was concerned, their arrangement worked for her as well as it worked for him.
“I thought—” Jeremy stammered. “I thought you preferred it like this. I mean, you travel a lot for work and your family never wanted us together anyway. I thought it was all good.”
Desiré shook her head. “What can I say,” she pondered out loud. “This is my doing. I never told you how I really felt.”
Jeremy’s forehead wrinkled. “How do you really feel?”
“I feel like you should be my man,” Desiré blurted out. The look on her face told Jeremy that she shocked herself.
“Do you love me, Jeremy?” she asked.
“Yes. Of course I love you,” he stated what he thought fit the situation.
“Have you ever thought about being with me? Like for real? Not like this, sneaking around, spending one month out of the year together and a few nights here and there.”
It crossed his mind, but only when he was annoyed with Marsha. “I thought you liked things the way they are,” he reiterated, not wanting to give her false hope. “I mean, we both know our families will never get along so it wouldn’t work anyway. Plus, I have a son now.”
Desiré solemnly accepted his stance. Things were no longer the same between them after that night though.
*****
Jeremy left New Jersey on a good enough note that Marsha felt encouraged to make positive adjustments on her end. While Jeremy was away, she took the apartment apart, room by room, deep cleaning. Her plan was to have a cleaning company come after she purged the place of unnecessary junk, and then she would go ahead and replace and upgrade some of the furniture herself. She wanted to not only surprise Jeremy when he returned, but push him to seriously consider the benefits of owning a home. She accepted that they would not be traveling the world as a trio, but with that, she expected Jeremy to at the bare minimum, provide her with the space and comfort of a private home.
The weekend before Jeremy was to return, Marsha was in the process of deep cleaning the bedroom. She would have just enough time afterwards, to have the cleaning come in for a day, and then have some new pieces of furniture delivered. She blasted old calypso and soca music, sometimes calling Oliver into the room to dance with her in between cleaning out corners and packing bags for Good Will. There were two closets in their bedroom, and Jeremy’s closet was a constant disaster. What needed to go to the dry cleaners could be found in a heap on the floor amongst other regular laundry. Marsha couldn’t just scoop the clothes up and toss them, she would have to check his pockets as well because he almost never emptied them. At this point she was sure the cleaners had lucked up on several thousand dollars from Jeremy’s pants pockets. This is what made cleaning fun for her though. She was bound to find enough money to go on a small shopping spree.
As she lifted a heap of clothing out of the closet, a heavy belt buckle, hanging from a pair of slacks thumped on a stack of shoeboxes, causing them to tumble to the floor. Marsha sucked her teeth as she threw the stack of clothes out of the closet. She turned to take the shoeboxes out of the closet, one by one, until she reached the bottom of the stack. There sat a lockbox she’d never seen before. She pulled the lockbox from the closet and dragged it to the middle of the bedroom floor. She found out instantly, it was heavier than it looked. She sat on the floor beside it and attempted to flip the lid. Naturally, it did not just open up. It was locked. “Ollie!” she called out, realizing she couldn’t even flip the box over to see if there was possibly a key taped to the bottom.
Oliver peaked his head into the room. “Yes Mommy.”
“Come turn over dis box for me please,” she told him.
Oliver stepped all the way into the room and stared at her quizzically. “Why you wanna turn it over?” he asked.
“To look for di key,” Marsha said, as if he should have already known that.
“There’s no key for this Mommy,” Oliver explained.
Marsha watched as he joined her on the floor. He turned the box for her to see that there was a combination lock on it. He wheeled the numbers with his pudgy little fingers and the box lid clicked open. Oliver stood up and walked towards the bedroom door while Marsha sat with her mouth agape.
“Can we have pizza tonight?” Oliver asked before completely stepped out of the room.
Marsha didn’t answer as she slowly lifted the lid of the box.
“Mommy,” he pushed.
“How did you know di code?” Marsha needed to know.
“Daddy opens that box and throws stuff in it every time he comes back from a long trip.  I seen him do it and I memorized the combination.”
Marsha fingered the quality stationary, stained with scribbles of ink.
“Mommy,” Oliver pushed once more.
“What is it Ollie?” Marsha asked, finally looking up from the box.
“Can we have pizza for dinner tonight?”
“Yeah,” Marsha sighed with exasperation. She would say anything to get him out of the room in case the box was filled secrets she could not handle.
Oliver disappeared from the doorway, getting back to his video games no doubt.
Marsha opened the box all the way up. At first, there were just plane tickets and what appeared to be letters, but as she dug deeper, she found pictures. Her heart dropped down into her stomach, creating waves of nausea as she laid her eyes on photos of her husband with his arms around another woman, clearly at different Caribbean resorts. Upon closer look, she realized the woman is her high school best friend Desiré. Her heart dropped further into her bowels, making Marsha feel like she needed to pass a bowling ball. She dumped the contents of the box on the floor and rapidly sorted through everything. Her gut took imaginary hits as she read lines of love letters like, “Feeling you inside of me leaves me undone and yet makes my world whole every time.”
“Every time!” Marsha’s mind screamed.
The letters dated back the last nine years; a good portion of their relationship and all of Oliver’s life.
“What di fuck?” Marsha whispered as continued to arrange the contents of the box on the floor. Her head was hurting and her heart was pounding. She stood for a moment to close the bedroom door and lock it. She sat back on the floor amongst Jeremy’s secrets and the tears began to flow. Marsha felt so overwhelmed, she didn’t think she would ever stop crying. She could hear Oliver playing his Playstation in his room and she couldn’t fathom facing him now that she knew what she knew about his father. A war of emotions erupted inside her. What does one do when they find out the only man they ever loved was having an affair for over nine years with the only best friend they ever had?
Her tears fell in hard heavy splashes like summer rain, on the letters and photos. Marsha’s physical and mental vision blurred. “I can’t,” she mumbled to herself as snot pooled on her upper lip. “I can’t do this. I can’t live with this.” She crawled across the floor to her nightstand and reached for the letter opener. Unsure if she could follow through with what she was thinking of doing, she crawled back over to the letters. Time stretched on as she sat clutching the letter opener, staring at the evidence of Jeremy’s extramarital relationship, sobbing. Finally, on sudden impulse, Marsha lifted one arm over the other and just as she pressed the edge of the blade to her wrist and little drops of blood trickled out, there was a knock at the bedroom door.
The sound caused her to drop the letter opener. “Yes!” she yelled at the door.
Oliver, jiggled the door handle, but it was locked.
“What is it, Oliver?” Marsha hurled her words at the door, hoping her son would back away, but Oliver was persistent.
“Are you gonna order the pizza now?” he asked.
“I’ll call at dinner time!” Marsha yelled again.
“Mommy, I’m not tryna bother you. I’m just hungry.”
The sound of Oliver’s voice expressing those words, expressing his needs, that she as him mother had to fulfill, brought Marsha back to reality. There’s a better way to handle this, she thought to herself. “I’m gonna order it now,” Marsha said to her son, as she forced herself off the floor. She caught sight of herself in the mirror, and noticed how haggard she looked in just a matter of hours. “There is a better way,” she whispered to her reflection.
*****
Jeremy stayed slumped down in the passenger seat as Marsha pulled up to their apartment building and looked over him. He was giddy with rum in his system and drunk with lust in his eyes. That night after picking him up from the airport, they’d gone over to Monty’s for a few hours where they sat around drinking, chatting, and having good old adult fun. When Jeremy was too drunk to stand completely upright, Marsha announced it was time to go, and she ushered her six-foot man out the door, into the passenger seat of her red Lexus SUV.
On the drive, Jeremy thought to himself, “Thank goodness Oliver isn’t home.” Although he’d spent the last three weeks wrapped up in Desiré from head to toe, their last days together weren’t as blissful. His feelings for her were growing stale and he wondered if the month long rendezvous were still worth it. He missed his wife, and on his flight he realized how happy he was with the life they’d built together, even if Marsha felt she wasn’t getting all she wanted, he knew they had everything they needed.
He felt Marsh’a dainty long fingers tugging at his seatbelt. It was spring, but the night air held tight to winter chill, and yet crickets sounded in the background like early summer. Jeremy knew the cold would bite him as soon as he swung his long legs out of the car.
“You go on up,” Marsha said with a seductiveness he hadn’t heard from her in ages.
Jeremy grabbed her right thigh and squeezed. “Aren’t you coming with me?” he asked.
Marsha shook her head no. “No Coeur, I’m going to go and park dis car in di lot. I’ll meet you in di bedroom.”
Jeremy let his hand go up from her thigh to her waist and he squeezed there too. “I don’t have time to wait for you to put on fancy lingerie or whatever fancy shit you think I wanna see. I been away for three weeks… we partied with family, I’m full of rum, I want you now!”
Marsha sighed. “Jeremy, jus do what mi say.”
Jeremy rolled his eyes.
“You have no idea,” she said leaning over and looking into his eyes. Marsha’s tongue played with the words as they left her lips, “You really have no idea how much I’ve missed you, mi Coeur. We had so much goin on before you left, and I been everything but okay, while you were gone. We need to get back to us. So go on up. I’m comin.” Marsha’s tongue slipped from her lips, brushing over Jeremy’s lips, sending him into a frenzy.
He thought it would take a lot for Marsha to see that their relationship was great, they belonged together, and they didn’t need anything else. At this moment though, it seemed like their time apart had put them on the same page.
“Jeremy,” she said snapping him out of his trance. “Go upstairs. I want to make love to muh husband.”
 “Okay,” he agreed. “Don’t take too long.” He grabbed her chin and pressed his lips against hers hard.
Not wanting to delay, he rushed to the elevator. By the time he stepped onto his floor, he was carrying his leather jacket and t-shirt in his hand, and he had already undone his pants. He nearly kicked his own door in thinking, I am going to ravish this woman until we are on the bare mattress. The first thing he sees taped to a mirror in the foyer is a poster with what looks like a Facebook message.
The message read: I’ve missed you, Dou-dou. I am counting the hours until you are back with me, handling this body like the beast you are.
Jeremy’s heart jolted in his chest. Only one woman called him Dou-dou. His mouth watered a little bit as his eyes lowered and right beneath the message was a color poster of Desireé in lingerie only made of string and lace. Jeremy grabbed his chest as it all hit him at once. The message was old, Desireé had sent it to him months ago. The picture was old as well. How the fuck, Jeremy thought to himself. He charged through the living room, and on every screen, mirror, and window, messages between him and Desireé were plastered on poster-sized papers. The many seductive pictures that Desireé sent colored space between the messages like illustrations of an erotic storybook, but these were not made-up characters. He had been caught by his real-life wife, and indirectly confronted about his real-life mistress.
Jeremy’s heart pounded in his ears like sobering drums. The sweat that poured from his forehead couldn’t wash away the guilt that he now felt as evidence of his nine-year affair wrapped items of his home like gifts. What kept him going? Part of him feared that Marsha would rush in behind him and split his skull with a machete. She’d become unexpected, quiet fire. Still, he plowed deeper into the apartment. When he reached the bedroom, he dropped to his knees. An alligator-skinned briefcase given to him by Desiré had been shredded with a razor blade. Among the destroyed luxury bag lied the love letters, phone bills, passwords, glossy photographs, and more gifts that Desireé sent. Marsha had connected some of the expensive jewelry and watches back to Desiré.. His eyes wandered over to the closet that was now empty of Marsha’s belongings. Only his clothes and the overturned lockbox remained. In the middle of the bed was a note with a letter opener that read: I couldn’t imagine you having to clean up more of my blood than this, so I finished the job on the gator instead. Jeremy shuddered as he realized the splatter, he’d noticed on the note could be none other than blood from his wife’s veins.
]]>Fri, 13 Dec 2024 04:22:05 GMThttps://vanessamoorellc.com/committed/chapter-fourteenOliver looked sad and Marsha’s heart sank as she hugged him, reassuring him that she and Jeremy would be back in just a few days.
“I don’t know about this,” Thérèse said. “What will I tell Charlie?” she whispered.
“We’ll be back before Charlie comes home from Atlanta. Jeremy is only in Houston for four more days,” Marsha explained.
Thérèse sighed. “Okay, I guess.”
Marsha hugged her cousin-in-law and thanked her several times before dashing off to catch a flight in Houston. Sometimes when Jeremy traveled, she would get an uneasiness like something was amiss. She would get the sense that he cheating again but she had no way of proving it. She would ask him things to catch him off guard in conversation, search his pants pockets, and rifle through his suitcase whenever he came home, but she never found anything.
Something struck her deeply when he seemed annoyed about her traveling. She couldn’t put her finger on what he would have against her taking a trip. He didn’t seem interested in traveling anywhere with her outside of where their relatives lived. Yet he traveled all over the world with artists and never once invited her. Something was definitely off and the only way to find out would be to “surprise” him in Houston. Immediately after he left, she checked his browser history on their home computer. There she was able to find out the hotel he booked. The next day, after work she went to the bank to withdraw money from a savings account she deliberately kept hidden from Jeremy. From there, she went to a travel agency and booked a flight to Houston for the very next day. She took Ollie over to Charlie and Thérèse’s house, and begged Thérèse not to tell anyone. She even offered her two-hundred dollars to watch Ollie for the next few days.
All I want is some peace, she thought to herself as she stared out of the airplane window. She didn’t have it when Jeremy was gone and she couldn’t feel it as she left Oliver with relatives. She didn’t have any solutions other than this surprise.
She went straight to the hotel when she landed in Houston that evening and as soon as she was settled in, she called Thérèse.
“Jeremy’s been calling,” Thérèse sounded panicked.
“So what’re you telling him?” Marsha asked, maintaining her calm.
“I told him you asked me to watch Ollie because you had to work late with some students on a project.”
“And?”
“He went for it.”
“So why you panickin?” Marsha probed.
“I don’t know, girl. I guess I just don’t wanna be in the middle of y’all shit.”
“There’s nothing going on,” Marsha assured her. “I came out here to surprise him.”
“Marsha, everybody knows how it goes when you date men in the music business. Every wife thinks their man is sleeping around. I don’t think Jeremy is sleeping around but he’s your husband. I don’t know what you know.” Thérèse paused. “I hope the surprise goes well,” she finally said.
Marsha let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. “Thank you Thérèse,” she said. “I’ll be home soon. We will be home soon.”
“Hi Mommy,” Ollie sounded just as sad as when Marsha left him the evening before.
“My Ollie-boy,” Marsha cooed into the phone. “You okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Then why you sound so sad?” Marsha questioned.
“I miss you and Daddy,” Oliver said straight out. He always said exactly how he felt without fear or shame.
“I told you we’ll be home soon. How was school today?” Marsha twisted a lock of hair from the nape of her neck thinking of Oliver’s chubby face as he filled her in on the day’s events.
Marsha reassured him once more that she and Jeremy would be home soon and then, for fear of her own anxiety and sadness taking over, she hung up.
Before going to bed, she ordered room service and mentally went over her plan for the next day. All she could do was hope for the best and prepare for the worst.

*****

The next day Marsha went and bought a ticket to the band’s show that night. She spent the remainder of the day in her room piecing together the strength to surprise her husband. After eight o’clock that night, Marsha was dressed in a black slip dress and strappy sandals. She requested a cab at the front desk, and headed out to the venue. She was sure to get a seat close to the front, where she felt she was sure to run into Jeremy.
It took all night for her to eventually catch sight of her husband at the side of the stage. At the end of the show, she attempted to make her way backstage but the venue’s security wouldn’t allow it. She insisted that she knew the manager and called him by full name, so instead of sending her backstage as she requested, they brought Jeremy to her. Seeing the look on his face, Marsha immediately regretted making the trip.
“What are you doing here?” he murmured through his teeth.
“I wanted to surprise you honey,” she offered.
Jeremy embraced her, just to whisper in her ear, “What the hell are you doing?”
“I needed to see you,” she half-lied.
“Where’s Ollie?” he asked, as he took her hand and led her backstage with him.
“He’s over by Thérèse. He’s fine.”
“He doesn’t always like to stay there,” Jeremy reminded her.
“It’s fine,” Marsha tried to convince him.
Jeremy paraded Marsha around backstage as his beautiful model-type wife who was only a school teacher. Others agreed that she should have been a model.
“Would you believe she carried my boy Ollie almost to full-term?” Jeremy joked. “He was born almost bigger than her and has been ever since.”
When the band settled up with the venue, everyone headed back to the hotel. As soon as Marsha entered the lobby, the concierge waved her down. “Mrs. Anthony! Mrs. Anthony! Call home! You have an emergency.”
Marsha scrambled to the front desk to call Thérèse’s number.
“Where is your cell phone?” Jeremy questioned as Marsha dialed the New Jersey number.
“I left it in the room—Hello? Thérèse? What’s going on?”
Marsha couldn’t believe her ears and she felt like falling apart.
“What is it?” Jeremy asked as Marsha clutched the phone to her ear, her face flushing red with worry.
“He’s okay now,” Thérèse was saying. “I’m so sorry Marsha. The kids didn’t know he had a peanut allergy.”
“Can I talk to him?” Marsha asked.
“He’s sleeping,” Thérèse told her. “The hospital wants to keep him overnight. I knew this wasn’t a good idea Marsha.”
Marsha didn’t have time to waste on shoulda-coulda-wouldas. “I’m comin home,” she said and hung up.
She and Jeremy rushed to the airport and changed their flight. Jeremy’s frequent flier miles and the fact that it was an emergency got them on the next flight out, no questions asked. Marsha fought the urge to cry through it all. The way Jeremy glared at her the entire time they were in each other’s presence told her he would not console her. She had left their only son with a known peanut allergy with relatives and somehow he was in a hospital bed suffering the aftermath of anaphylactic shock. Dis is not good motherin, she told herself. She knew there was no coming back from this incident. Jeremy would blame her forever.
Ollie was her miracle boy. A year or two after she’d had him, against the doctor’s advice, she got pregnant again, a way to nail Jeremy down as much as she possibly could. That baby didn’t survive past the first trimester. Due to the different blood types again, her body rejected it and she experienced a miscarriage. Because her stubbornness ruled her, she tried once more another year later and the same thing happened again. Ollie was meant to be their only child and she had to accept that. Now that they were raising him as a lone prince, she’d almost lost him due to her own lack of judgement and security. She needed to get home to her baby boy.
*****

When they reached Thérèse and Charlie’s place, Ollie rushed into his father’s arms ready to flee his cousins’ home.
“How you feeling Ollie-boy?” Jeremy asked.
“Better now,” Ollie grinned.
“Good,” Marsha and Jeremy said at the same time.
Ollie hugged his mother and off they went, back to the safety and comfort of their little apartment.
“You know you’re allergic to peanut butter,” Jeremy chastised Oliver. “Why wouldn’t you tell the others?”
“I did,” Ollie insisted.
“So how did this happen?” Jeremy pushed to know.
“We were playing,” Oliver started to relay the story to his parents.
“Go on,” Marsha listened from the edge of his bed, while Jeremy towered over the both of them.
“They didn’t believe me, “ Oliver explained. “They kept saying Bubble-boy Bubble boy, you too much trouble boy,” Oliver sang.
Marsha could feel her heart sinking down into her stomach. I am a bad mother, was all she could stand to think to herself.
“So they sang a stupid song,” Jeremy said. “How does that get to you eating peanut butter?”
“They held me down,” Oliver explained the best way he could. “They held me down and put the peanut butter on my lips.”
“What!” Jeremy blew up.
“I told them Papi,” Oliver cried. “I told them and they didn’t listen to me. Then I started crying and fighting with them and they were calling me--” Ollie froze.
“What?” Marsha asked.
“It’s a bad word,” he confessed.
“Spell it,” Marsha commanded.
“They called me a p-u-s-s-y,” Oliver stared at them both with tears in his eyes.
“I’ll be right back,” Jeremy said as he turned and left the room.
Marsha consoled Oliver and tucked him into bed. Once he drifted off to sleep, she went back into her own bedroom to unpack. All she could think about was the danger he was in. She felt immense guilt and shame. She had no idea where Jeremy had gone off to, but she knew nothing good could be happening at the moment. As usual, she did little things around the house to busy herself until he returned home.
It was after eleven when Jeremy finally trudged into the house. Marsha was sitting up in bed staring at the television, but not really watching. Jeremy came into the room and took his clothes off without a word. Marsha noticed that he looked sweaty and bruised. “What happened?” she finally asked when he was down to his underwear.
Jeremy turned and glared at her. “I went to see Charlie.”
“And?”
“We fought.”
“Why?” Marsha asked rising from the bed.
“Cuz his kids are fuckin animals,” Jeremy waved his arms over his head.
Marsha stood in front of him. “And you thought fighting Charlie would change that?”
“It’s man-shit, Marsha. Just mind your business.” Jeremy turned to walk out of the room but Marsha followed.
“Why would you go over there and start a fight?” she demanded to know. “You could’ve gotten arrested again.”
“You’re right!” Jeremy turned back to face her, his eyes ablaze with anger. “I could’ve gotten arrested for bustin my cousin’s ass cuz his fuckin kids terrorized my son who my wife left in his household cuz she can’t sit her fuckin ass still at home!”
Marsha stumbled back just at the bass of his voice. Her heart raced as she realized he was angrier at her than Charlie’s sons. “This is my fault?” she questioned, knowing she already blamed herself.
“Would it have happened if you were home?” Jeremy snarled.
Marsha’s eyes welled up with tears.
“Oh, here come the waterworks,” Jeremy threw his arms up once more causing Marsha to flinch.
“What the fuck are you flinching for?” he bellowed. “Have I ever hit you? Have I ever laid a fuckin hand on you? No! Not even when I probably should have.”
“What does dat even mean?” Marsha screamed back.
“I don’t know Marsha but I need you to leave me the hell alone right now,” Jeremy said as he slammed the bathroom door in her face.
*****



Jeremy seethed under the waterfall shower head. The skin of his face stung where Charlie had thrown a few jabs at him. He showed up ready to beat the breaks off Charlie, who arrived home around the same time as he and Marsha when he heard about Oliver’s accident. When he went over to their house though, Charlie seemed to not have a clue why Oliver was at his house in the first place. This pissed Jeremy off further. He then realized that Marsha kept everything a secret and stalked him all the way to Houston. Since he saw her at the venue in Houston, he kept asking himself how she could’ve found him. He didn’t remember sharing the hotel information with her. Finding the venue wasn’t hard. The band’s visit was the talk of the town, but figuring out what hotel they were in, in a city like Houston would take real detective work. What else did she know? What else was she willing to do catch him?
Jeremy ignored stings that felt like little needles scratching his face as he scrubbed the rest of his body. She did all that to catch me doing nothing, he thought to himself. He brought his hands down over his face and felt the swelling. What he couldn’t admit to her or anyone was that Charlie didn’t just surrender to an ass-whooping. Charlie fought back as if they were in a title fight. Jeremy took more hits than he was able to dole out after a while. He left Charlie’s humiliated. The more he thought about the situation, the more enraged he became.
He shut off the water and dried off. He thought showering would not only wash the sweat off but he thought it would calm him. It was to no avail. He climbed into bed next to a sniffling Marsha. Unable to control his fury, he blurted out, “Just stop.”
“So now I can’t even cry when I’m upset?” Marsha snapped back.
“This is all your fault,” he huffed.
“I thought we already established that.”
“Exactly, so I don’t know what the fuck you’re crying for.”
“I’m sorry I came to Houston,” Marsha hiccuped. “I just wanted to do something other than sit around waiting for you to get home.”
“You already do something. You work,” Jeremy said into the darkness of the bedroom.
“I mean, you promised—” she whispered.
Jeremy knew she cut herself off because she knew would set him off if she repeated herself. He hated that. “It’s never enough,” he mumbled.
“What?”
“I said ‘it’s never enough.’ This apartment has top of the line everything. Ollie gets new video games before they’re even on the shelves. You’re a high school history teacher who wears Prada pumps. You have every-fuckin-thing. You’ve never seen an empty refrigerator or had a day without light or heat, and yet, you still don’t have enough. You forced me into this fuckin marriage, got both sides of the family thinking Ollie was born premature. And it’s still not enough for you.”
“Everything but what I asked for,” Marsha said softly.
“That probably wouldn’t be enough for your ass either,” Jeremy retorted. “When are you gonna stop making me pay for Delmont’s mistakes?”
Marsha rolled over to face him in the dar, and although he could not fully see her, he knew her mouth was wide open.
“Dat’s how you feel? Like I’m making you pay for Delmont’s mistakes? Delmont cannot even afford to pay for all di mistakes he made. Excuse me for having higher expectations of you. Excuse me for thinking you were better than dat.” Marsha sat up and snapped on her beside lamp and glared at Jeremy. “The nerve of you.”
Jeremy snickered. “You stalked me all the way to Houston, for what Marsha? What did you think you were gonna find?”
Marsha stared back at him with relentless defiance.
“That’s what I mean. I’m not Delmont.”
“You’re right,” Marsha said sliding back down against her pillow. “For all the shit my father put my mother through, at least he bought her a house.”
“What?” Jeremy gasped. That comment he was not prepared for. He wasn’t sure how they got there.
“He cheated, he dumped his outside babies on her for her to raise, and the one thing she asked for was a house—”
“Everyone has a house in Antigua,” Jeremy protested, feeling her argument was pointless.”
“He had that house built exactly how she wanted it because it was all she asked for,” Marsha said softly. “Here I am, asking for travel, but I have to stay cooped up in a one-bedroom apartment with ‘top of do line’ everything, our growing boy trying to maintain some type of privacy in his little bedroom directly across di hall from us, having quiet sex—but you know what? Muh done. Mi can’t complain. Mi have everything but a house to put everything in and mi can’t travel to see anything.”
Jeremy chewed on his bottom lip as she shut the light back off. She ended the conversation. He told her to go to sleep and she did, but only when and how she wanted to. How could she not see how much control she already had? “If I buy a house,” he asked, “that means you’ll never do no dumb shit like leave my son with relatives to stalk me across the country again?”
“If I have my house, you can do whatever di fuck ya want,” Marsha grumbled.
“We’ll see,” Jeremy said, and after a few minutes, he was quite satisfied that he’d had the last word.
]]>Fri, 13 Dec 2024 04:20:55 GMThttps://vanessamoorellc.com/committed/part-two-chapter-thirteen​Almost a decade in New Jersey, and the Anthony household was running like a warm well-oiled machine. Jeremy, Marsha, and Oliver had settled into a quiet happy life, almost what Marsha wanted.
Marsha learned to drive and started teaching at a rough school in Newark. Meanwhile, Jeremy continued to manage kompe and reggae artists for his family’s semi-successful record label, and Oliver attended a catholic school nearby.
Jeremy stayed out of trouble while managing bands and artists. The Anthony family found a space where they were able to build a recording studio and have a few offices. Marsha was glad that this is where Jeremy spent most of his time. Now that she was driving, she felt freer, yet more in control of her household and marriage. Something else nagged at her though. This was not the life she dreamed of and when she fell in love with Jeremy and they moved across the George Washington Bridge, this was not the life he’d promised her. They very rarely traveled, if at all.
By now, he’d taken her and Oliver to Haiti, and she’d taken them to Antigua. They frequented Canada, and Miami, Florida, places where they both had relatives. Marsha wanted more though. She still hadn’t seen the places, landmarks, monuments, or museums she’d read about around the world. It bothered her that she’d reached her thirties without achieving any of her travel goals.
One day, she was watching Jeremy pack for a trip with two bands he was managing. He loaded up his suitcase and sat it by the bedroom door. Then he sat on the bed, carefully putting his toiletries bag together, making sure he had the right colognes and lotions for the occasions of the trip.
She envied this ritual he indulged in regularly for the bands and artists different trips.
“Ollie and I have spring break at di same time,” she said, distracting Jeremy from his packing routine.
“Oh that’s good,” he said.
“I was thinking we could take a trip,” Marsha added.
Jeremy nodded as he placed his items into the pockets of a roll-up bag. “Where y’all wanna go?” he asked without looking up.
“Oh I don’t know, Paris maybe?” Marsha suggested the first thing that came to her mind.
Jeremy snorted. “Who has Paris money?”
“We have plenty money,” Marsha reminded him.
“We also have ‘plenty’ bills,” he said mocking her accent.
“Anyway, I think I have something lined up for the new reggae artist 5-Star.”
Marsha rolled her eyes. Everything revolved around the bands and artists. “I wasn’t really askin about di band,” she retorted. “But I can plan a trip for Ollie and me.”
“Sailing week?” Jeremy asked, in reference to the only celebratory time in April in Antigua.”
“We not goin to Antigua,” Marsha, stood from the bed and grabbed her daily planner off the dresser. She flipped the pages until she settled on the April calendar. “Our breaks are before that anyway.”
“Okay,” Jeremy said, shrugging his shoulders.
“Okay den, I wanna go to Paris, wit my son.”
Jeremy rolled up his toiletries bag and looked at her. “Where is this coming from? Why you need to go away so bad?”
Marsha’s heart sank as she realized he’d forgotten about his promise to her. “You said, I would get to travel. You said I would live the life I wanted.”
“Are you not living a good life?” Jeremy waved his arms around and did a full 360 spin in the middle of the bedroom floor. “You have the best of everything in this apartment. You been to Haiti. You get to go to Antigua almost any time you want—“
“Ya Haiti is di end all be all?” Marsha shouted. “Mi tell you years ago, mi want to go to Paris, London, Johannesburg, Tokyo!”
“And I don’t understand why you need to go to all those places!” Jeremy shouted back.
“It’s not for you to understand. You promised!”
“Okay, and now you’re a mother. Ollie needs you here not flying around the world.”
“Oh but its okay for you to go flyin all over di place!” Marsha was near hysterics.
“Its my damn job Marsha!”
“Eh! Okay. Fine! Don’t worry about it!” Marsha yelled, storming out of the bedroom. She went into the bathroom, where she thought she could cry without interruption. 
He never had any intentions of letting me live how I wanted, she thought to herself as she sat on top of the toilet bowl. 
Just then there was a knock at the door.
“I’m in di toilet!” Marsha shouted.
“Mommy, something is wrong with my game,” Oliver complained through the door.
“What do you want me to do?” Marsha asked.
“I dunno. I just need a little help.”
“Ask your strupid father,” Marsha murmured.
“Huh?” She could hear Oliver pressing himself up against the door to hear better.
Marsha sucked her teeth. “Ask your father to take a look at it!” she said through her teeth.
Oliver walked away from the door, but Marsha knew it wouldn’t be long before he would be back for something. When does it end? She asked herself. When will my life be mine?
*****
Jeremy waited to board his flight with the reggae band, Words of Wizdom in Newark Airport. They were heading to Houston, Texas. He’d been to Houston quite a few times at this point. They found that there was an audience for reggae music out there, and of course the focus on Black music in general was a big deal. After all, it was Beyoncé’s birthplace. 
The argument with Marsha buzzed in the back of his mind like a trapped fly. He should’ve known this day would come. He did promise her travel and the life that she wanted to live, but things just didn’t pan out that way. The bands needed him, as well as his long-time girlfriend in Haiti. 
Jeremy tried. He tried his hardest to be a good husband and father. He felt the father part came easy. He loved Ollie, his smart, rambunctious, inquisitive boy who managed to pull from both his parents in the looks department. At nine years old, Ollie was 5’1 and a solid 100 lbs. Jeremy wanted him to play football, but Marsha found every way to block that idea. Still, they watched games together, and tossed the ball around in the park. Jeremy would sometimes take Ollie to meet and hear new bands. He’d let Ollie spend time in the studio to learn a little about the business, in hopes that if he didn’t play sports, maybe he’d find some interest in music. He was sure to hire a piano teacher, and Ollie could play a little bit. His focus now was video games, which Jeremy indulged in from time to time, but that wasn’t really his thing and he didn’t want Jeremy to get too deep into gaming either. Still, his boy was everything to him.
So was his wife. He would give Marsha the world if he could. They’d been together eleven years and she was the perfect mate for all eleven of those years. She was too perfect and he felt he would never match up. After a while, he gave up trying to be as good as her.
On one of his trips to Haiti, he ran into his old Dominican girlfriend. She’d become an international operations specialist and was there on an assignment, while he was there with the first kompe band he worked with. They reconnected over drinks at the bar of the hotel where they were both staying. To Jeremy’s surprise, she invited him back to her room.
“I told you, I’m married now,” he said though he couldn’t look away from her shimmering brown eyes.
“It’s only one night,” she said. “We don’t even have to do anything. I just can’t believe we stayed away from each other for this long and I don’t want the night to end.”
Jeremy followed her to her room, and for the first few hours they talked while he held her.
“You’ll always be the love of my life,” she said.
Jeremy didn’t know what to say to that. He loved her too, but he loved Marsha more.
“It’s okay,” she said. “I know, you’re married now. Same girl you were with in the club in Miami with that night?”
“Yeah,” Jeremy admitted.
“How long y’all been together now?”
“Almost five years,” Jeremy said, as it occurred to him how deep in he was with Marsha. “We have a son too,” he added.
“Wow,” she gasped. Then she was silent. Only her sniffles let Jeremy know that she was crying.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“I always thought it would be me,” she said.
Something those words broke him. Jeremy wrapped his arms around her tighter. Before he knew it, they were wrapped up in a deep passionate kiss. His mind told him to stop but there was a disconnect between his brain and his body. He spent that night and many more in the arms of his now, long-time girlfriend.
After landing in Houston, Jeremy first called Marsha and Oliver, and then called his girlfriend. She too needed to know that he’d landed safely. This had become his routine when he traveled with the bands, and he expected nothing outside of his ordinary.
]]>Wed, 11 Dec 2024 03:19:26 GMThttps://vanessamoorellc.com/committed/chapter-twelve​Since moving to New Jersey, Marsha and Jeremy moved like they were joined at the hip. They shopped for Christmas dinner and decorations together. A week before Christmas they strung lights around the house, hung holly everywhere, placed a mistletoe in their foyer, and even hung a reef on their door. Both of them wanted a real tree, to maintain the traditions of the islands where no one bought fake trees. They found a huge one, and Jeremy had to ask a cousin go back with him to pick it up a in a pick-up truck, and lug it into the house. Together Marsha and Jeremy adorned the tree, strictly with red and gold lights, tinsel, garland, and bulbs. With their furnishings being predominantly white, their home was a sight to see. They had reached their third holiday season together, now married and expecting a bundle of joy.
The holidays themselves were quiet. The two cooked together and Marsha coaxed Jeremy into participating in her favorite holiday indulgence, Christmas movies. On Christmas morning, they exchanged simple gifts and spent the day lounging, eating, and chatting on the phone with relatives. The first few weeks of marriage were proving to be easygoing bliss for Marsha and she was glad that they had officially joined in holy matrimony. This is it, she thought to herself. She’d finally gotten Jeremy to settle and now they could have a happily ever after away from the naysayers in New York.
*****
Marsha, with her lips nearly sealed shut, processed what was coming from the ob/gyn’s mouth. She trusted Dr. Jean the minute they met. Jeremy’s family recommended her and they only dealt with the best.
Jeremy on the other hand sat on the edge of his seat, yapping back, barely allowing the woman to finish her sentences. How did he expect to understand what was going on?
“So lemme get this straight,” he said cutting the doctor off for the third time. “Because we have two different blood types, the baby is going to be sick or die even?”
Marsha could tell the doctor was struggling not to go off. She too wished he would just shut up and listen.
“Marsha’s blood type is AB negative. Your blood type is B positive. The baby could be born with any one of several complications such as jaundice, fetal anemia, abnormal heart rate or breathing problems, and yes it can be fatal. But there is a solution.”
Marsha’s heart slowed hearing the word “solution.”
“Okay, so what’re we gonna do doc?” Jeremy pushed.
Marsha grabbed his knee and squeezed. She liked this doctor and she wanted him to be nicer to her. His tone was too aggressive. Jeremy shot her a look, but Marsha quickly and sharply raised an eyebrow before turning her attention back to the doctor.
“At twenty-eight weeks, we’ll administer what is called a RhoGam shot—”
Marsha turned her head just in time to see Jeremy’s mouth open to say something. She nudged him, stopping him dead in his tracks.
Dr. Jean continued, “Then shortly after birth, we’ll administer a second shot. That will stop the onset of any of the complications I mentioned and those mentioned in this pamphlet, including infant death.”
Jeremy sat back in his seat and folded his arms.
“The twenty-eighth week?” Marsha asked for confirmation.
“Yes, Mrs. Anthony,” the doctor stated, looking only at her.
Mrs. Anthony. Three months in and Marsha was still adjusting to her new name.
“Okay, so everything will be fine then?” she asked Dr. Jean once more.
“Of course. This is why we start prenatal care right away. So that we can stay ahead of the eight-ball.”
“Is there anything else I should know at this point?” Marsha didn’t have any questions when she’d arrived to the office, but now they were swirling around in her mind like a tornado. It was hard to pin them down and put them into words. More than anything she was glad to know that although her baby was in danger, he or she was now okay.
“Nothing pertinent,” the doctor said smiling. “If anything major arises, of course we’ll inform you. Otherwise, it’s all about what you wanna know.”
“I guess I’ll call if I need anything,” Marsha said, more to herself than anyone else.
“Do you have any questions Mr. Anthony?” Dr. Jean said, turning her attention to him.
Jeremy shook his head.
Marsha was surprised but she didn’t say anything about it.
“Okay then,” Dr. Jean said, standing from her broad mahogany desk.
Marsha took a look around the office again, admiring the doctor’s accolades and taste. It felt good to be in the presence in an accomplished Black medical doctor. This experience was new to her, and Marsha was loving every minute of it.
“You can make your next appointment for a month from now with the receptionist out front,” Dr. Jean reminded them before shaking the couple’s hands.
Jeremy was silent as they left the office. He was even quiet in the car. Marsha noticed but she enjoyed the silence, it allowed her to absorb and learn her new surroundings. They’d been living in Jersey for a little over a month. She was now eighteen weeks pregnant and showing a little. They’d finally called and informed their parents, claiming to have conceived a honeymoon baby. Lucinda was the only one delighted.
“You okay?” Marsha asked as Jeremy pulled up to the front of their building.
“Yeah. I’m good,” he claimed.
“Okay. Sounds like everything is gonna be okay. Nothing to worry about and I like Dr. Jean,” she said once Jeremy came around to let her out of the passenger seat.
“Yeah, Charlie and Monty grew up with her. Their wives go to her,” he said, speaking of his cousins.
“That’s cool,” Marsha said.
“I’m gonna go run some errands,” Jeremy said as he led Marsha to the front door. “I’ll be home in a lil while.”
“No problem,” Marsha said, grateful for the time alone. Back in The Bronx she would have been on edge. Since being in Jersey though, Jeremy spent very little time out. She knew he didn’t have many friends out there. His free time was spent with Charlie and Monty, who were family-oriented men, which made Marsha feel more secure than she had back in The Bronx. He didn’t come home late, because they didn’t stay out late. That worked for her.
Once upstairs, Marsha changed into  loungewear, grabbed the cordless phone, and stretched out on the couch. First she dialed Mrs. Hanley.
“Marsha darlin!” Mrs. Hanley’s voice rang out.
Marsha’s heart warmed.
“How are you Mrs. Hanley?”
“I am well. How are you? How is married life?” Mrs. Hanley started right in.
“It’s good,” Marsha answered honestly.
“Dat’s good. Mi love to hear it,” Mrs. Hanley sounded pleased.
“Do you think we could get Mr. Joseph on three-way?” Marsha asked. “Mi want tell ya both something.”
“Mi think me already know what it is,” Mrs. Hanley guessed.
“Eh eh, Mrs. Hanley. Get Mr. Joseph on di line first,” Marsha giggled.
In a few minutes, the three were laughing the way they had many afternoons in the teacher’s lounge.
“So what’s di news?” Mrs. Hanley pressed for the cat to be out of the bag already.
“Ugh, Hanley,” Marsha groaned, knowing that Mrs. Hanley had long predicted her pregnancy. “I’m pregnant.”
“Wow! Congratulations!” exclaimed Mr. Joseph. He shouted the news to his wife in the background, and Marsha felt like she was finally getting the reactions she wanted.
“Oh I knew it!” Mrs. Hanley proclaimed.
Marsha ignored that last statement though. She wanted to be as vague as possible about her conception and due date.
“You know you have us if you need absolutely anything,” Mrs. Hanley assured Marsha as they brought their conversation to a close.
“We would be glad to drive out Jersey,” Mr. Joseph said of himself and his wife.
Marsha appreciated their support so much her eyes welled with tears.
“Thank you so much,” she told her friends.
The move to Jersey wasn’t as isolating as she anticipated.
*****
“I have something I need you to do,” Augustine’s voice echoed through the speaker of Jeremy’s new Sprint Motorola cellular phone.
Jeremy was sitting with Monty and Charlie in Monty’s large, half-finished basement. The lighting was the best thing about it. Otherwise, it was cold, there was nothing on top of the concrete floor, and other than a card table and a few folding chairs, there wasn’t any furniture.
Augustine called to talk to all three of them, and the basement seemed like the best place to talk without interference.
“Okay Papi, we’re listening,” Jeremy confirmed.
“The last time I was there I met with this kompe band. Young boys. They’re really good, but having a hard time getting their foot in the door. They need management,” Augustine explained.
Jeremy, Monty, and Charlie all leaned in closer making sure not to miss a word from Augustine.
“I want you to manage the band, son.”
Jeremy sat up straight in his chair and shook his head. Where would his father get a crazy idea like that? They didn’t manage musicians. They were a crime family, not music moguls. “What? Papi, I don’t know shit about managing a band.”
“It won’t be hard,” Augustine insisted. “You have connections in the northeast. You’ve been in the Haitian party scene. I know you know promoters. You just have to get them some gigs.”
“So how’d we get in this? What does this have to do with us?” Charlie cut in.
“Because the band is unsigned,” Augustine further elaborated. “They need to sign to a label. You two will be in charge of my new record label.”
The three cousins exchanged looks.
“I don’t know about this,” Jeremy said with uncertainty.
“Yeah,” Monty agreed. “Jeremy couldn’t even hold down arms shipments in New York. Now you want him to hold down a group of humans.” He laughed along with Charlie at Jeremy’s expense.
Jeremy rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to the phone. “Can we circle back to this?”
“No,” Augustine stated in a simple but stern tone. “There’s some extra lajan circulating and I need to account for it. You never passed the bar, so I can’t expect you to be on the legal side of things. At least not like that. This you can do. You, Charlie, and Monty can manage Anthony Records. Our first act is Prens Bon.”
Monty keeled over with laughter once again. “The Prince Charming’s! No way. Every Haitian man swears he’s a lover boy. This is too much. Who came up with that name Unc?”
“Not me!” Augustine laughed too. “That’s the name I met them with. It’s fine by me. Anyway, it’s up to the manager if there’s going to be change.
Jeremy sucked his teeth. “You’re really serious about this. Do they even want a manager?”
“Yes! I told them I could get them what they needed.”
“Oh bondye!” Jeremy’s hand slapped against his forehead. “You’ve gone too far Papi.”
“Jeremy!” Augustine was suddenly serious. “Stop being dramatic. You will manage the band. You have a child coming and you need to make money. This is an opportunity you will make good on. Monty, Charlie, I will talk more with you when I come back up in a few weeks.”
With that Augustine hung up the phone.
The three cousins exchanged looks again. Augustine was in charge and they knew there was nothing they could do. They all earned for and from the family business in different ways. Everyone was required to make a contribution and most of the time Augustine decided how. Charlie and Monty had been involved in a few things lower on the scale, but running a record label was major. At the end of the day, there was no one that could question Augustine about it. Not even the authorities.
*****
The months rolled on like waves of the ocean. Each wave brought with it a new pregnancy symptom or experience for Marsha and Jeremy. For most of her life, Marsha had never weighed more than 120 lbs. Baby weight brought her up to a solid 145. Her breasts had ballooned into protruding cantaloupes, and her hips widened to make way for the new being she was breathing life into. Ironically, she’d fallen completely out of love with Haitian black rice. Just the sight of it sometimes nauseated her. Instead, she developed a craving for meatloaf. One day on an outing with Jeremy, and his cousins and their wives, they went to eat at a diner. As the waitress was taking their orders, Marsha noticed another wait staff passing by with a hot plate of meatloaf and mashed potatoes, with gravy slathered all over it.
“What’s that?” Marsha asked.
“Uh, meatloaf and mashed potatoes,” the waitress murmured.
“I wanna try it,” Marsha said, staring across the restaurant and where the waiter had set the place down.
“Okay,” the waitress smirked as she scribbled Marsha’s order down.
Once the plate was in front of her, Marsha didn’t look up until it was clean.
“Hungry are we?” joked Monty’s wife Béatrice.
“It was very good,” Marsha said as she rubbed her belly.
“I bet,” said Thérèse, Charlie’s wife.
After that, any time they left the house, Marsha had to make sure they’d get some meatloaf and mashed potatoes at some point.
On the morning of her thirty-eighth week, two weeks after the small baby-shower Béatrice and Thérèse had thrown for her, Marsha woke up feeling a lot of pressure and cramping in her lower abdomen. She had been experiencing Braxton Hicks contractions for some time, but these felt stronger. She didn’t know if what she was feeling was cause for concern, and she wasn’t one to complain, so she said nothing, until around noon when the pains were becoming unbearable. The pain was worse than the worse menstrual cramps she’d ever felt.
“Jeremy, I don’t feel well,” she blurted out while stretched out on the couch watching television.
Jeremy was in a corner of the living room on their new Dell desktop computer typing away in a chatroom dedicated to kompe music. “What’s wrong?” he asked without looking up.
“I don’t know,” Marsha admitted. “I’m having cramps.”
“Cramps?” Jeremy leapt up from his seat like someone had struck a match underneath him. “Isn’t that like, bad?”
Marsha held the bottom of her belly where the pain was. “Not necessarily. I been having Braxton Hicks for a while. That’s normal, I just don’t know if that’s what I’m feeling now.”
To be on the safe side, the couple headed to the hospital. They moved just in time, because six hours later, Oliver Alvin Augustine Anthony was born. Marsha’s heart felt too full for words. She and Jeremy hardly spoke. They simply marveled at their baby boy. He weighed eight pounds, six ounces, and was an even twenty-two inches long. Marsha could not believe such a long heavy baby had come out of her.
“Is everything gonna be okay with them?” Jeremy asked Dr. Jean. “Y’know with the whole blood thing and all?”
“They’re gonna be fine,” Dr. Jean assured him. Marsha had her shot a few weeks ago—“
“Yeah but he’s kinda early. Can she get the second shot still?” Marsha didn’t have the energy to stop her anxious husband’s interrogation.
“I’m going to give it to her before I leave for the day,” Dr. Jean said softly.
Jeremy seemed to be at ease finally.
Dr. Jean left the new family of three alone and Marsha and Jeremy continued to speak soft promises over their beautiful brown baby boy.
“I’m gonna give you everything, my boy,” Jeremy promised.
“Mommy is never going to leave you,” Marsha vowed.
Oliver, with his eyes still closed, tightened his grip on his father’s finger and nestled closer to his mother’s chest.
This is it, Marsha thought to herself once more. Happily ever after existed and she’d made it happen. She just knew Jeremy would never leave her side.
]]>Mon, 09 Dec 2024 03:01:03 GMThttps://vanessamoorellc.com/committed/chapter-eleven​It had been over four years since Marsha last seen her parents. Though she’d seen pictures since being in the states, she was not prepared for how much they’d changed over the years. Her mother’s hair had gone grey completely, and her father’s hair thinned down to his scalp. Marsha almost didn’t recognize them as they exited the plane at JFK airport. Her mother smiled and started to move a little faster when their eyes met, but her father continued his slow and steady stride, accompanied by a semi-scowl on his face. Marsha’s parents felt very differently about arriving in New York for their daughter’s sudden nuptials and neither was bashful about their sentiments. One thing Marsha was not at all prepared for was the arrival of her sister Paige.
Paige was the daughter of one Delmont’s many mistresses and the thorn in Marsha’s side throughout high school. Marsha had big dreams when she left Antigua, but few knew that Paige was one of many reasons Marsha wanted to get off the tiny island. The sisters were two years apart, and as if Delmont’s exploits weren’t enough to deal with, Paige seemed to be determined to make life a living hell for Marsha. All of Marsha’s siblings were fine with leaving her alone with her books, but not Paige. She not only wanted Marsha’s attention, but the attention of anyone who seemed to be getting close Marsha and she contributed to Marsha’s hesitance in making friends.
“Well well, look my daughter, my big daughter, a college graduate and teacher, now a bride!” Lucinda beamed. She reached up and wrapped her arms around Marsha for a brief but intense hug. Her hands slid down to Marsha’s without first gripping her wrists.
Then she brought Marsha’s left hand up to her eyes. “Eh eh, look ah dis ring here Delmont!” She exclaimed. “Mi see you ah gain muscle from carryin dis rock!” Lucinda laughed and smacked Marsha’s hips. She grabbed Marsha’s left hand again and shook her head. “Mi can’t believe.”
She then turned to Jeremy and pulled him into a joyful embrace. Jeremy looked to Marsha, signaling with his eyes that he was feeling some anxiety. Marsha shrugged and smiled, in hopes that her mother’s happiness would outshine her father’s dismay. “Jeremy, muh son, you is doin good so far.” Lucinda patted his face and stepped back.
Marsha decided to forgo an official introduction. It didn’t seem one was needed at this point. Delmont looked Jeremy up and down clasped his hands in front of him. Marsha noted that he wasn’t even willing to shake hands, and she knew that even she would not be getting a hug, not that she really wanted one. “Mi jus hear he name Jeremy but mi never hear what is di last name,” Delmont grumbled. “If you is to marry, mi expect fah know you last name.”
Paige stood to the side quietly observing the reunion. Marsha was not sure whose idea it was to bring her on the trip, but she would address it later.
“Anthony,” Marsha uttered. “His last name is Anthony.”
Delmont nodded.
Jeremy cleared his throat. “Let’s get your luggage,” he said.
Marsha was shocked by how nervous he’d appeared. She’d never see this uneasy, even with a gun to his face.
Delmont extended his arm as if to say, “Lead the way.” Jeremy did just that. Marsha and her mother walked and talked together behind Delmont who walked a few feet behind Jeremy. Marsha noted he only walked behind Jeremy because he wasn’t familiar with JFK airport. Otherwise, he would have been line leader. Delmont never followed anyone willingly. Paige walked behind her sister and stepmother without a word.
Jeremy did his best to carry all of Lucinda’s and Paige’s luggage, while Delmont insisted he needed no help whatsoever with his own.
It was Thanksgiving weekend, the easiest time for Marsha and Jeremy to get married. Marsha had time off and the church had no other bookings, not to mention the deep discount on the use of the sanctuary and small dining hall below it. Marsha and her mother planned to begin cooking a medium sized feast for the wedding the evening after Thanksgiving. Everything would be ready for Saturday afternoon ceremony.
Marsha not only wanted a quick ceremony, but a small one. Lucinda wasn’t happy to hear about that. She wanted to bring the whole family up from Antigua and have a huge celebration. Marsha was never one for big parties to begin with. She stuck to her guns and made it clear to Lucinda that there would be a small ceremony and a dinner to follow. That would be all. Seeing Paige unexpectedly made her feel justified in not mentioning the pregnancy. If they could spring things on her, she could spring things on them right back.
“We want to come to your place and talk first,” Lucinda informed them once Jeremy’s rental was loaded with luggage. He anticipated driving Marsha’s family around for the weekend and he knew the Audi would not be enough. He rented a Toyota 4runner to ensure the family’s comfort.
“You don’t want to go to your hotel and freshen up?” Marsha asked.
“No,” Delmont interjected. “We goin by you first.”
Marsha and Jeremy exchanged glances and hopped into the vehicle. Marsha sat in the back with her mother and sister, making sure her mother sat in between them. Marsha and Paige still had barely said a word to each other and Marsha was feeling awkward. Paige had grown up beautifully. She was as tall as Marsha and though she was slender, she had a few curves that Marsha had only started to develop now that she was nearly four months pregnant. She was grateful that she just appeared to be gaining weight, and didn’t necessarily look pregnant. Whenever she could though, Marsha would steal glances at her sister. Paige wasn’t normally quiet. She always had a slick comment on the tip of her tongue. In fact, Marsha half expected a weight comment from her, but Paige said nothing beyond hello.
When they reached their apartment, Marsha did everything she could to refrain from responding to her father’s comments about the size of their apartment. Delmont sat down at the kitchen table, and directed the rest of the family to do the same, except for Jeremy. “You’s a young man,” he said. “You can stand while your wife to be and your guests sit.”
Marsha sent an apologetic look Jeremy’s way. Jeremy nodded slightly in acceptance. Delmont didn’t care how either of them felt.
“We wanted to come here first to tell you we won’t be staying at the hotel,” Lucinda stated.
Marsha’s heart began to race. There was no possible way they would all be able to stay comfortably in her apartment. She opened her mouth to speak, but as usual Delmont cut her off. “We goin to stay by Sheila.”
Marsha didn’t know if what she heard her father say was worse.
“Sheila?” she asked.
“Yes,” her mother carried on. “We told her about di weddin and we told she, she can come.”
Marsha’s mouth dropped open.
Jeremy cleared his throat and Delmont looked back at him as if he would not tolerate anything Jeremy had to say.
“Mi nah even business wit she!” Marsha screeched.
“Hey hey!” her father warned. “Respect your parents. Dis thing wit you and Sheila is foolish and we nah dealing wit it. Almost two years ya nah talk to she!”
“It has not been two years!” Marsha argued back.
“I don’t care!” her father slammed his heavy mocha colored hand on the table. “We is family and we don’t jus stop talk. Dats not how we do things. Sheila is comin to di wedding! Jeremy is gonna take us by her house today. And you will come inside and say hello!” Delmont pointed a finger in Marsha’s face, bringing Marsha to tears.
She looked over at Paige to see if she was smirking the way she often did when they were little. But Paige quietly stared off towards the kitchen window.
Lucinda cleared her throat to deliver more information. “Also, Paige is moving to di states. She wants to continue her medical studies here.”
Marsha’s eyes shifted to her mother in disbelief. She knew this was all her father’s doing and as usual Lucinda went along with it. “Where she stayin?” Marsha asked sharply. “Cuz she nah stay by me.”
“No,” said Delmont, “she ah go stay by Sheila. Mi nah even sure how you stay here inna dis shoebox. Sheila still have she three bedrooms. Ansol is movin and she man Scott is moving in.”
“Scott?” Marsha questioned, never having heard that name before.
“She know him as Scratches,” Lucinda said, nodding to Delmont.
Delmont shrugged his shoulders and rested his hands on the table. “So anyway, ya have some lunch here prepared for us. Muh hungry ah rass.”
Marsha chewed her bottom lip as she rose from the table to throw together canned corned beef and rice. Jeremy stood frozen in the kitchen doorway watching the family drama. Lucinda attempted to lighten the mood with more conversation. “Ya know Sheila is five months pregnant now, so Paige can help out wit di baby.”
“Dat’s good fa Sheila,” Marsha said with no emotion.
She thought that she would be completely rid of Sheila with the move to Jersey, but it was as if her parents were going out of their way to keep the girls tied to each other. Not only that, Paige would be around too and although she would be living with Sheila, Marsha knew that her father would expect her to take some responsibility for her. Her stomach sank more and more as she hovered over the stove.
When Jeremy finally came out of his stupor, he served the family fruit to help Marsha along with feeding everyone. Marsha was glad that he was being as helpful as he was because this was not always the case. She made a mental note to thank him later. In the meantime she pondered how she would stand this forced visit to Sheila’s.
*****
Marsha felt a chill in her bones as they traveled the short distance to Sheila’s place. She chose her same seat in the car and stared out the window quietly. There was nothing she could do except fight the urge to scream. She hated how much control her father had over everyone. She’d left Antigua to get away from him, his control, and the effects of his reputation. She felt she was being a dutiful daughter by inviting them up for the wedding. Other than them and her cousin Steven, there wasn’t anyone else that Marsha wanted present. She wondered if Sheila would actually come, being that she made it clear that she did not approve of the relationship. Marsha felt the visit would tell her everything she needed to know, and that would be the only good thing she could possibly get out of it.
When they pulled up to the front of Sheila’s building, Sheila was already standing on the front steps. She was visibly pregnant, and Marsha had to admit that her brown skin had a bronze glow about it. She wondered if she was glowing as well. She made sure she was the last to exit the car and when she finally stood on the curb she couldn’t read Sheila’s mood. Sheila showed no emotion. Lucinda rushed up the stairs and grabbed Sheila into her customary squeeze. Sheila laughed lightly as Lucinda rambled about her looking good and healthy. Delmont stood face to face with Sheila, briefly hugged her and asked why they were meeting on the steps.
“I thought this was best,” Sheila stated. With that, she made eye contact with Marsha. There was a coldness coming from her and although Marsha was uneasy about the visit, the look didn’t shake her.
“We need fa come inside and sit down,” Delmont insisted.
“Uncle Delmont, you and Auntie Lucinda, and Paige can come in and get settled. But if we goin to have a conversation wit everybody before you settle in, I prefer we do it here.” Sheila squared her shoulders against her uncle’s attempt to bully her into accepting unwanted guests.
“Look,” Delmont’s voice rose slightly. “Mi tell ya right now, you two are going to settle dis today.”
“No disrespect Uncle Delmont,” Sheila followed up. “But dis is my place and muh sorry but Marsha and Jeremy is not welcome.”
“So you won’t be comin to di wedding?” Lucinda said sorrowfully.
“Hell no,” Sheila shot back.
“Don’t disrespect ya auntie,” Delmont chastised with that finger in Sheila’s face.
“Are you comin in Uncle Delmont?” Sheila asked.
Delmont shuffled a bit and then without a word he turned back to the car and started unloading the luggage.
Lucinda turned to Marsha with sadness in her eyes. “I thought we would all be cooking together this weekend, but I guess not. Haitian people don’t cook like Antigua people do dey?”
Marsha shook her head. “Only a few things Mummy. No worries though, we’ll make it work.”
After bringing the luggage to the top of the stairs, Delmont turned to Jeremy. “Tomorrow you will come carry us to Brooklyn for dinner wit ya family.”
Jeremy nodded, agreeing to what was more of a command than a request. He knew he would be doing the driving for the whole weekend anyway.
Lucinda hugged them again and ascended the stairs. Paige followed after, nodding with a slight smile to Marsha and Jeremy.
“Mi soon come,” Delmont said, waving the women inside. He then turned to Jeremy. “I only accepted dis marriage because you already live together. But mi nah too happy bout it. Marsha and Sheila was very close. Since you come into di picture, dem fall out and can’t even be in di same room. Mi nah like dat. Marsha want to be wit you and mi nah live here to stop her. But if mi did live here, me woulda make sure you never would be in my daughter’s life. Mi jus goin along cuz me can’t control or make she come back ah Antigua. Mi tell ya dis, fuck up one time, and mi a go make sure ya never walk or fuck again.”
Marsha could see beads of sweat had cropped up on Jeremy’s forehead. In minutes she went from being aggravated with her father to appreciating his protection. Her feelings for her father continued to be complex because it was always this way. She appreciated what he did for the family but she also loathed the effects of his lifestyle.
“You don’t have anything to worry about,” Jeremy said in a hushed voice, and Marsha took that as a guarantee that she would no longer have to work as hard to make Jeremy do right by her. She would be done convincing everyone that they were heading for a happily ever after.
*****
Thanksgiving morning, Marsha’s stomach flipped nonstop. All night she dreamt about the meeting between her and Jeremy’s parents. Every dream ended in something crazy. One ended in their fathers fighting, another ended in Jeremy’s mother shooting both her parents. Marsha knew none of these things were likely to happen but the dreams felt so real that she awoke from each one out of breath. Jeremy had to rock her back to sleep several times throughout the night. In the morning she drank a huge cup of chamomile tea and took her time getting ready for the day. She had already picked out something to wear for the day and she’d been doing well at choosing clothes that shifted attention away from her midsection, but people still commented that she’d been putting on weight. Most said it looked good on her and Marsha was glad it was going that way. After she’d started wearing her ring, most assumed that she was gaining “happy relationship” weight and only Mrs. Hanley looked suspiciously at her from time to time.
Just to be sure, Marsha tried her outfit on for the third time. She checked herself out from every angle in the mirror and even tried different poses to see if her growing stomach could suddenly become noticeable at any given moment. Jeremy watched in the doorway and chuckled. Marsha frowned. “Nuthin is funny here,” she said.
Jeremy entered the room and stood behind her in the mirror. “You look fine,” he said.
“But do I look pregnant?”
“Yes you do,” he said as he gripped her breasts from behind and laughed more.
Marsha sighed harshly.
Jeremy spun her around to face him and held her face in his hands. “You look fine. You look beautiful as always. Yes, you are gaining some baby weight, and yes, to me, I can see that you’re carrying my son. But nobody knows your body like I do Marsha, not even your parents. Nobody will know until you’re ready for them to know. I haven’t told anyone, and I won’t. I want things to go smoothly just like you. Tonight is going to be good. We’re going to have dinner with my parents and my aunt and uncle and tomorrow we’ll start getting ready for our big day. Okay?”
Marsha nodded her head as they looked each other in the eyes.
“I love you Marsha. Everything is going to be okay. Do you believe me?”
Marsha nodded her head, believing but unsure if she could trust.
Jeremy left the room and Marsha changed out of the dinner outfit. She hung it at the front of the closet and then reached for her wedding dress in the back of the closet. It was simple with no beading, only ruching across the breast and around the waist. Lucinda didn’t care for the dress and complained it was too plain. Marsha reminded her that she’d never been a flashy girl and Lucinda accepted that. Marsha was sure to pick out the dress with only the help of a saleswoman. She knew there was a strong possibility that she’d never see her again, and with that she felt comfortable informing the woman that her belly was stretching every day with a new life and she didn’t want anyone to know. She needed a dress that would not give away her secret. The woman directed Marsha to several A-line and corset dresses, but when they both laid eyes on the ankle length narrow dress with layers and ruching in the right places, they both knew they’d found the right one.
Marsha thought about trying the dress on again, but she didn’t want to mess it up. Her mind drifted back to the moment she’d found the dress and she thought to herself, it’s okay. It’s di right one. To relax, Marsha figured the best thing she could do until it was time to leave was lay down and read.
*****
Marsha’s finger looped around a lock of hair that had escaped from her usual low bun, repeatedly. The car ride to Brooklyn was mostly quiet except for her mother’s occasional musings, and deep down Marsha wished that everyone got along well enough to keep a lively conversation going. After it seemed like Lucinda tired of her own voice, Marsha tapped Jeremy’s shoulder and asked him to turn up the volume of the kompe music playing on the radio.
“What is dis?” Delmont asked, sounding annoyed.
Marsha rolled her eyes thinking, is there nothing he can enjoy while he’s here?
To her surprise, though, Paige spoke up, “Dis is kompe music Daddy. Haitian music.”
“Oh,” Delmont simply said and nodded his head. He then stiffened his body as if he were trying to resist the rhythm.
Marsha felt only slightly relieved when they pulled up to the front of Jeremy’s uncle’s home in Kensington, Brooklyn. She was more than ready for them to no longer be confined to a small space together. Without a word the family exited the car and followed Jeremy through the wrought iron gate and up the seven stone steps to the two-family house. Jeremy rang the bell and held Marsha’s hand tightly as they waited to be greeted. Marsha just wanted to get the night over with, though she knew that Jeremy was squeezing her hand to let her know that he would not let the night go awry.
Jeremy’s aunt Estherline opened the door and happiness swallowed her face as it often did Jeremy’s. “Jeremy! Marsha!” she shouted. “Sak pase?”
“Nou bon!” Jeremy said with joy in his voice.
“Good, glad to hear you two are good. You look good. Long time, nephew. Now with the move it’s going to be longer time.” Estherline ushered the family into the foyer and stopped about halfway, looking behind Jeremy and Marsha. “Who did you bring with you tonight, Marsha?”
Marsha stepped slightly out of the way to introduce her parents and sister.
“Wow,” Estherline said as she took in the family’s looks. “Marsha is spittin image of both of you.”
Lucinda beamed, but Delmont remained serious. Paige kept a straight face, not smiling, not frowning. Marsha wondered what was going through her head. She was abnormally quiet since they’d arrived. Paige was a firecracker that gave her a run for her money while they were growing up. Now, it seemed a bucket of sand had doused her flame, and there was no fuel left to ignite it.
The family followed Estherline down a short hallway. A doorway to the left opened into a grand living room, with large off white furniture, with wood trim, covered in clear plastic. Thanksgiving was one of the few occasions when this room was used. Usually, people walked through it to the insulated sun room and congregated in there, where there was a television and VCR for entertainment. The only entertainment in the living room was the stereo system, fully equipped with a turntable on top, equalizer levers in the middle that controlled the sound from speakers in the corners in both the living room and dining room, AM/FM radio dials, and a rotating tape changer with slots for six cassette tapes.
Across from the living room, on the right of the hall was a powder room, and straight ahead was the kitchen where Jeremy’s mother Madeline hovered over a pot on the stove in the far left. A five foot island took up the center of the kitchen and was loaded with pans on top of sterno food racks, kept warm by low heat. Lucinda in all her joy, quickly introduced herself to Madeline, who quietly turned from her stove and stared her up and down, before returning a greeting.
“Well, it is nice to meet you too,” she said with little to no expression in her voice.
“I brought season rice, and curry chicken.” Lucinda held up the two pans toward Madeline who seemed to be forcing a fake smile at this point.
“You didn’t have to,” she said as she lifted one of the pans from Lucinda’s arms and walked it over to empty counter space. “We have plenty of rice.”
Marsha watched the exchange in awe of Madeline’s English. In the few times they’d been in each other’s presence, she seemed to struggle or forget that not everyone spoke Creole.
“I’m sure ya never had season rice though,” Lucinda continued to smile, not taking the hint.
“We season our rice,” Madeline said slyly.
Jeremy finally cut in, “That’s just what it’s called Mommy. Good to see you, huh?”
“Hi son.” Madeline hugged her son and mumbled something to him in Creole. Marsha used to feel terribly insecure when she did that, but she was becoming numb to it.
Lucinda, finally catching the vibe, made room for the pan of curried chicken on the island. Marsha smiled inwardly. Lucinda appeared overtly passive, but during this trip it was becoming clear to Marsha that her mother was about forty percent passive and sixty percent aggressive. The passiveness was an act that kept the peace, but the aggressiveness snuck up on people in a way that it would take them a long time to notice that Lucinda had taken up space exactly where she was not wanted.
Delmont stood stone in the doorway, with unaffected Paige at his side. Noticing the uneasiness in the room, Estherline made her way around the kitchen and continued the introductions. “Maddy,” she affectionately referred to her sister, “did you meet the esteemed Dr. Lindo?”
Madeline cocked her head to the side. “I did not. Nice to meet you. You want to be called Dr. Lindo all the time?”
Delmont looked shocked, as no one had ever asked him that before. “Dat is who I am,” he responded cooly.
Madeline looked satisfied with that answer and went about her business in the kitchen, barely acknowledging Paige as Esterline introduced her too.
The family left the kitchen and joined Jeremy’s father and uncle Marvin in the living room. Marvin joked that he hadn’t touched his own record player in months because of Estherline. Estherline jabbed at his shoulder and reminded him of the rules in her home. Delmont stood in the middle of the floor seemingly refusing to make himself comfortable. Jeremy’s father Augustine noticed and offered to take everyone’s coats.
“Forgive me,” Estherline said waving her hands around. “I guess I’m just excited. It’s like this is what Americans do, um… rehearsal dinner right? Before the wedding?”
That was the first time anyone had mentioned the wedding since the morning and Marsha’s stomach jerked a little. A wave of dizziness came over her and she looked around for the nearest place to sit. “Are you okay?” Paige asked, startling Marsha a bit, since she really hadn’t said much.
Marsha nodded her head, but Paige continued to eye her suspiciously.
“I can ask Miss Estherline or Miss Madeline for water,” Paige said softly peering into Marsha’s eyes.
“Sure,” Marsha accepted as she squinted her own eyes wondering where the new kindness was coming from. She took little notice to what was going on around her as she tried to avoid suddenly heaving. She could feel a cold sweat developing under her sweater dress and then she was annoyed at herself for wearing it. At the same time, she knew had she worn anything else, not only would her secret reveal itself, but the November chill would certainly have her cold.
Paige came with a glass of water, for which Marsha thanked her and drank slowly, careful not to trigger her gag reflex. Jeremy knelt down in front of her. “You okay?” he asked, now used to the signs of prenatal upset that Marsha could succumb to throughout the day.
“Muh good,” Marsha said between sips.
“You sure?” Jeremy asked again.
Marsha nodded her head again not wanting to bring attention to herself. “I’ll be fine,” she whispered.
Jeremy patted her knee and took a seat next to her on the love seat, his body crunching the plastic, causing Marsha’s body to rise and fall with the air that filled the plastic and then released. Paige sat in an armchair across from them, watching Marsha intently. Marsha focused on avoiding direct eye contact with her, and that helped to take the edge off the wooziness.
Lucinda had joined Madeline and Estherline in the kitchen, while Delmont allowed himself to indulge in American football with Augustine and Marvin. The three youngest sat not talking for a while until Jeremy broke the silence with questions towards Paige.
“So, you excited about living in the states?” he asked her.
Paige hesitated then responded, “Not as much as everyone thinks I should be.”
Jeremy nodded. “But some excitement still?”
Paige shrugged.
“Medical studies, right?” Jeremy confirmed.
Paige nodded again.
“Anything specific?”
“Gynecology.”
Jeremy’s eyebrows shot up. “Okay.”
“Dis why dey have you stayin by Sheila?” Marsha blurted out.
Paige nodded slowly. “Muh think so. Dem want me fa help she wit di baby, and be der fa she when she go into labor and everything.”
Marsha snickered. “So dem think di doctor ah go let you help?”
“Mi nah know what dem a think.” Paige rolled her eyes. “Mi want finish. Mi ask fa come ah di states. Mi say Miami ah where me want go, but dem ah insist mi ah come here. So, mi did stuck wit Sheila. Mi nah even know she—” Paige stopped short when Delmont darkened the doorway between the den and the living room. She and Marsha stared at him, looking for signs that he’d overheard their conversation.
“Where di bathroom?” he asked.
“I’ll show you,” Jeremy jumped out of his seat to lead the way.
When the two men left the room Paige asked one more time, “Marsha, ya sure ya okay?”
“Yes. Why ya keep askin me?” Marsha hissed.
Paige whispered, “Cuh muh think you is pregnant.”
Marsha squinted her eyes, unsure how to respond. She felt like Paige was looking right through her and she couldn’t lie. Lucky for her, Jeremy was back in the room. “Don’t think so much,” she said, closing the subject.
*****
Marsha grinded her teeth to control the uneasiness she was still feeling when everyone came to the table to eat. Though Delmont spent his time in the den watching football with the other older men and seemed to unwinding and enjoying himself, he still brought his serious face to the dinner table. Lucinda hadn’t changed her demeanor much either. With all Madeline’s shade, she continued to be her joyful-self. Madeline looked annoyed that Lucinda and Estherline seemed to hit it off. Marsha wondered why Madeline seemed determined to dislike her and her family. She wondered if there were changes in Jeremy that his family was aware of, but she was not. In her mind, she had the upper hand in their relationship but it didn’t show. So it’s not like she encouraged him to be a horrible human being. If anything, she was aiming to be a good influence. She breathed in through her nose and out through her mouth as Marvin said the blessing, and then carefully chose dishes that would not aggravate her nauseated state.
“White rice?” Madeline noted as Marsha heaped a pile of white rice onto her plate.
Marsha nodded.
“I thought you loved diri nwa so much?” Madeline continued.
“I do,” Marsha said, glancing at the small bowl of black rice, knowing lately it didn’t sit right in her belly. “I feel like I eat it all di time though. I figured white rice with a little bean sauce would be good enough tonight.”
Madeline nodded slowly.
Then Jeremy started scooping spoonfuls of pikliz on his plate.
Marsha tried to ignore it, but the smell pulled her in. She hadn’t eaten anything spicy in weeks. She knew it would trigger indigestion and in this moment, possible regurgitation. She fought the urge to take just a tiny bit for the spice she often needed to accompany the other flavors on her plate.
Jeremy noticed her eyes watching the small serving bowl and whispered, “You want some?”
Marsha whispered back, “No thanks. It does smell good though.”
Jeremy snickered.
“And what are the love birds whispering about?” Estherline asked, innocently.
Jeremy cleared his throat. “Nothing really. Uh, lately Marsha’s been getting heartburn after eating pikliz. As you guys say,” he nodded towards Marsha’s parents, “she too love spice.”
The table erupted in laughter and Marsha, for once, felt at ease. It felt like he’d broken the ice. The two made eye contact and Marsha felt like pulling her man into her arms and squeezing him, but she knew that gesture would come off awkward. No one else at the table understood that he was just trying to keep their secret.
“So,” Esterline said as the laughter died down, “how did you propose Jeremy?”
The couple froze.
There was no proposal. Marsha told him they were getting married. Jeremy agreed to take her to get a ring and that was it. They were getting married because she was pregnant and didn’t believe in terminating the pregnancy, and she couldn’t fathom admitting to her family that she’d gotten pregnant out of wedlock. They were rushing to save face and until this point, they’d never discussed the story they’d tell others.
Jeremy cleared his throat. “I knew Marsha was the one ever since I laid eyes on her.”
Immediately, Marsha heard something different in his voice. His tone came through amplified and Marsha’s ears tuned out all background noise.
“Steven talked so much about the ‘light skinned Naomi Campbell,’ and how smart she was. He talked about his successful uncle, Dr. Lindo and how Marsha was the most like him of his kids because she was so in love with learning. Finally, he asked me to stop by her graduation party with him, and I knew I had to meet this girl.” Jeremy pause. He had the entire table hanging on to his every word, which was common for him. He could easily be the life of any party. He was captivating and though he had the room in a chokehold, no one was as mesmerized as Marsha. This was the first time she was hearing him tell his side of their story. Jeremy locked eyes with Marsha as he went on. “She’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”
“Aw,” Estherline’s voice oozed with hopeless romanticism from across the table.
Delmont’s fork scraped against his plate, and his head bowed over his food. He’d broken himself out of Jeremy’s spell and was stuffing his face with turkey and black rice. Lucinda rolled her eyes at him and nodded at Jeremy to continue.
“I had to get to know her, because she was meant to be my wife. I couldn’t let the chance pass me by. So I asked her to dance and I gave her my number, hoping she would call me soon.”
Marsha sighed with relief that he didn’t bring up Sheila’s warnings against him.
Jeremy started to wrap his story up. “She called me, and we went out all the time from then. I can’t get enough of her and I never want to be away from her, so we moved in together. It’s only been a few months, but it isn’t enough to live with her. I want to marry her and be with her forever. One morning, I just got up and bought a ring, and when Marsha got home from work, I met her at the door on my knees, ready to beg if she said no to marrying me.”
*****
The morning of the wedding, all Marsha could think about was Jeremy’s fantasy proposal. They admitted to each other that they both wished it had really occurred  that way. As they lay in bed that night after the Thanksgiving dinner, Marsha wondered if all he’d said was true otherwise. She felt it in her bones that it was, but still she asked.
Jeremy responded with the same tone of voice he’d used at dinner. “It’s all true Marsha,” he said. “I know sometimes it doesn’t seem like it. I know I made some mistakes, but there’s no one else for me. I knew when I saw you in that white dress at the party, I never wanted to be away from you. You’re the best thing in my life Marsha.”
Marsha smiled softly in the dark. Jeremy reached out to pull her in close. “I know I acted like I didn’t want to get married at first. It’s just that things happened so fast, but I know this is what it should be.”
“What are you thinking about?” Lucinda asked, breaking Marsha out of her trance. Marsha stared at herself in the mirror, in awe of the full face of makeup freshly applied by Paige.
Marsha, Paige, and Lucinda had spent the entire Friday after Thanksgiving preparing for the small early morning ceremony. Marsha could feel herself warming up to her sister, despite the persistent knot in her throat, knowing that Paige knew her secret. The three women went shopping together in Macy’s in search of makeup and jewelry for Marsha and a dress for Paige. Afterwards, they spent the rest of the day cooking for the wedding reception that was to be held in the church’s basement.
“Are you excited?” Lucinda beamed over Marsha’s shoulder.
Marsha took a deep breath, ready to spin yet another tale that all would want to hear before a wedding. She wasn’t excited. She was terrified. Before meeting Jeremy, marriage was something foreign to Marsha. She didn’t want to be tied down like Lucinda. She stared into her mother’s eyes in the mirror wishing she’d asked all the questions instead of secretly judging and shunning her mother. Now, Marsha saw Lucinda’s strength and she wondered if she could be just as strong. Could she stand the weight of commitment as long and as well as Lucinda did? Did Lucinda ever have secret breakdowns? Was she ever scared?
Lucinda didn’t seem to read Marsha’s asks. So Marsha instead smiled back and said, “Yes Mummy. Jeremy makes me so happy.”
Lucinda’s smile widened, which Marsha didn’t think was possible. She felt like she was seeing her mother’s back teeth. “Life is goin to be very good fa you Marsha,” Lucinda said, rubbing her daughter’s shoulders. “You can do anything in this world when ya have di support of a good man.”
Marsha felt a sharp pain in the pit of her stomach. She wanted more than anything to ask Lucinda if she was doing what she wanted with her life, but she knew she would only open a can of worms. Paige lingered in the background and Marsha wondered how she felt as walking evidence of Delmont’s affairs. Did she agree with Lucinda that all she would need was the support of a good man?
“Mummy, could you make me a cup of chamomile tea?” Marsha asked suddenly. It was eight o’clock in the morning and the wedding was scheduled for ten. All the ladies had to do at this point was get dressed, but Marsha knew that if she didn’t take control of her nerves right away, they were sure to ruin the day. She needed to clear her head of all the questions and face her situation head on. She was about to marry the man she loved. She closed her eyes tight as Lucinda hurried towards the kitchen for the tea.
“You okay?” Paige whispered, rubbing the middle of Marsha’s back.
Marsha nodded, her eyes still tightly shut.
“Cold feet?” Paige asked.
Marsha shook her head.
“You sure?”
Marsha nodded again.
“Marsha,” Paige started and then stopped.
Marsha opened her eyes to see her sister swaying from side to side, at a loss for words. “Are you okay?” Marsha asked.
Paige nodded. “I just wanted to say, I’m—I’m sorry for all di things I did when we were kids.”
Marsha didn’t know how to respond. She’d held a grudge against Paige for so long it had become a part of her. The ice between them had been melting over the past few days, but if they weren’t thorns, Marsha didn’t know what they would be in each other’s lives. She wasn’t one who craved feminine connection, at least she hadn’t since Desiré. Desiré. In all that was happening, Marsha had nearly forgotten about her long lost friend that she used to think about every singe day. Forcing herself to stay in the moment, Marsha forgave her sister. “It’s okay,” she said. “We were kids and der was so much goin on wit Daddy.”
Paige nodded. “I’m sorry fa what my mother did too.”
Marsha spun around at that one. “What?”
“I’m sorry that my mother jus drop me off wit you guys di way she did.” the words rolled out of Paige’s mouth.
“Dat’s not your fault,” Marsha said softly.
“I jus, I feel like I’m di reason ya lef.”
“Well you were part of it,” Marsha admitted, and then she hurried to buffer her response, “but again, we were kids. I wanted to be successful like Daddy. So muh come ah New York fa mi education. If you never was dropped by us, mi woulda still come. Ya don’t have to apologize for ya mother. She was an adult and she and Daddy was at fault. Not you.”
Paige looked relieved. “Mi never did say it before cuz mi was so focus on being a pain in ya ass, but I love you, Marsha.”
Marsha laughed inwardly to herself as she imagined her heart growing like The Grinch Who Stole Christmas. “Mi love ya back Sis.”
The sisters hugged and only let go when Lucinda appeared in the doorway. “Ya tea, Marsha,” she said quietly.
Though neither said it Marsha was sure her sister wondered same as she, if her mother had heard any part of their conversation. Either way, Marsha accepted that she probably would never get the answers to all the questions she had for Lucinda, but she had at least settled the dust and cleared the air with her sister. None of it had anything to do with Jeremy, but Marsha felt it was a good way to head down the aisle.
*****
Marsha waited nervously with her parents in the church vestibule. Try as she might, she couldn’t still the trembling that sent waves from the pit of her stomach throughout the rest of her body. Her sweaty hands clasped the bouquet of flowers so tightly in front of her stomach that the base felt like it had become a part of her hands. The tension in her jaw chopped her speech worse than when she’d first arrived to the states. She’d had three cups of chamomile tea to no avail. Lucinda offered a sip of rum, but Marsha naturally declined. Lucinda didn’t seem to think anything of it. Marsha knew her mother hadn’t been made aware of how her drinking had increased once she became involved with Jeremy. Anyone who’d hung out with the couple, would surely know that something was up. Lucky for Marsha, none of those people were present.
Steven came bustling into the vestibule from the sanctuary and a smile lit his ebony face when he saw Marsha in her wedding dress. “Di light-skin Naomi Campbell is marryin muh good friend! Mi can’t believe.” Steven sighed as he looked Marsha over. “Mi can’t see muh-self gettin married, but if di day ever come, di bride have to look like muh little cousin. Mi want fa hug ya, but mi nah want to mess anything up.”
Marsha giggled, happy to hear the compliments and inviting the distraction from the shenanigans her nerves were putting her through. Steven’s compliments melted the ice formed by her anxiety alongside Delmont’s determined reserved demeanor. Steven then turned to Lucinda. “Well Tanty, let we walk nah!”
Lucinda happily took her nephew’s arm, ready for him to guide her down the aisle. Before stepping through the doors she turned for a last look at Marsha in her singleness. “Now you is a big woman.” Lucinda smiled. “Not my baby anymore and dats okay. Jeremy ah go give you everything you want, and dats all you need.” She nodded her head and she and Steven disappeared through the doors.
Marsha could hear the soft music playing, and now she wanted to get it over with because as Steven left, the nerves returned. Delmont locked his arm with her and continued to stare straight ahead. “Ya don’t have to marry di first man ya fall in love with,” he said solemnly.
“There won’t be any others,” Marsha tried to assure her father.
Delmont finally looked down at his daughter’s face. In his eyes, Marsha could all that he couldn’t find words to express. He didn’t believe Jeremy was good enough. He wanted what he felt was more for her. He wanted her to find a man like himself. What he didn’t understand and what Marsha could not fully admit to herself was that Jeremy was very much like him, minus the academic accolades. Marsha wanted more for herself too. She wanted a man that wouldn’t take her for granted as Delmont had taken Lucinda and as Jeremy was taking her now. She hoped that in their gaze upon each other, her eyes did not betray her and reveal that she was settling for a man that she believed she could change. She tried to elicit the potential as a current reality. She knew that Jeremy could be a better man, and if she believed it with every thing in her, then she could convince everyone else to believe it to. “He’s better than you think,” is what she wanted her eyes to say to her father. “He is all I need and more. Didn’t you hear what Mummy said?”
The organ chords began to play and eye contact broke between father and daughter. It was time.
The distance from the vestibule to the alter seemed so far but it only took what felt like seconds before Marsha was standing side by side with Jeremy in his navy blue suit. He smiled at her, and as her father gave her away, Marsha placed her slender hands into Jeremy’s large protective grasp. This is it, she thought to herself, before the minister could begin. There really is no turning back and I don’t want to. She looked into Jeremy’s eyes, hoping to see the same thoughts, but she couldn’t tell what he was thinking. He looked happy and his hands tightened around hers.
Marsha’s heart skipped a beat as the minster’s voice reverberated throughout the quiet sanctuary, urging her to speak her vows. She took a deep breath to expand her lungs against the tightening she was feeling in her chest.  Suddenly it was hard to speak. The silence seemed to stretch on forever and Marsha wanted it to stop. She wanted someone to start talking. She looked around and remembered, it was up to her. She had to be the one to stop the silence. She had to answer.
“Marsha?” the minister prompted her once more.
Jeremy squeezed her hands as he peered into her eyes.
Marsha’s voice cracked a little as she started to repeat after the minister. As she spoke she tried to read the expression on Jeremy’s face. His eyes bore into her’s intensely, yet Marsha couldn’t decipher what might’ve been going on in his head. She secretly prayed as she spoke her vows, that this was the right move, that this would be the thing that would turn Jeremy around and make him the man she needed him to be. Her conscious battled. Prayer works. But why didn’t it work when he was out late not answering her pages? Why does God let these things happen? Marsha almost sucked her teeth out loud at her inward battle. She took another deep breath and repeated the last lines.
Then it was Jeremy’s turn.
As he spoke, Marsha wondered if he was searching for sincerity in her same as she searched for it in him. Her eyes focused on his thick lips. They weren’t the first lips she’d ever kissed, but they were the first she’d kissed and truly enjoyed. She wanted to kiss them every day for the rest of her life. Jeremy’s oration sounded heartfelt, but Marsha couldn’t fight the nagging feeling that he was just good at putting on a show. She inhaled deeply once again as he spoke the last line and convinced herself once and for all, that they were indeed doing the right thing and they were on their way to marital bliss.
The applause was light as they kissed, sealing the minister pronouncement that they were now bound together as husband and wife. A sudden blast of joy shot through Marsha’s veins and she felt light and warm as they turned away from the altar. Everyone didn’t look as happy as she felt, but Marsha didn’t care. She would show them all.
*****
Jeremy stayed a few feet behind Marsha as she walked from room to room exploring their new apartment on Prospect Street in East Orange, New Jersey. She seemed nervous when he told her he’d taken care of everything. Now he beamed with pride on the inside, knowing he’d done everything just the way she liked. She’d seen the furniture get loaded onto the moving truck, but she had no idea that he’d sold it and replaced it with new top of the line items. Their new living room was twice the size of their old one, with polished parquet floors. Jeremy furnished it with a fully loaded white, and gold-trimmed entertainment center placed at the right of the entryway. In the middle of it, two feet off the floor stood a 55 inch television, to the right was a speaker. To the left was a stereo system, complete with record player, sound equalizer, and dual cassette player with an automatic tape changer. Further left, was another speaker. Both the television and stereo were hooked up to both speakers. To the left of the entryway was a simple terrace with sliding doors, furnished with plain off-white patio furniture. The center of the living room was filled with a grand, white, leather, four-seater sofa, in front of it sat an octagon-shaped glass coffee table. On the wall behind the couch, was a bar, not quite fully stocked, and in the corner was a round white dinette table, just enough for the family of three. Next to bar was an entryway to the kitchen. Next to that was a short hall, where the bedrooms were opposite each other. On the other side of the short hall was a large full bathroom, with a deep tub, pedestal sink, and oval-shaped toilet with a gold flusher handle. The bedroom was occupied by a California king sized bed, with a white and gold trimmed headboard. Jeremy certainly stuck with his color-scheme throughout. A dresser, chest of drawers, and armoire wardrobe completed the royal-looking set. The only empty room was the baby’s room.
Marsha turned on her heels and smiled up at him brightly. “When did you do all dis?”
she asked.
“When you weren’t looking,” Jeremy admitted.
Marsha rolled her eyes.
“But do you like it?” he pressed for her approval.
“I love it!” Marsha exclaimed.
Jeremy felt at ease.
“It’s just—”
“What?” Jeremy, held his anxiety down in his gut.
“Is this place child proof?"
“Huh?”
“A glass coffee table? Di bar? Dat’s a lot Jeremy. We’ll have a little baby running around here soon,” Marsha patted her growing belly with concern.
“When there’s rules in place, kids know how to move and there’s no reason to child-proof,” Jeremy quieted her apprehension with memories of his own upbringing. Childproofing was not a concern in the Anthony house back then and it wouldn’t be one now. Boy or girl, Jeremy planned to raise a child as thick skinned as he was, both mentally and physically.
They spent the afternoon sitting in the middle of the nursery floor, combing through furniture catalogues, planning what the baby’s room would look like. Marsha wanted to keep the colors neutral since they didn’t know what they were having but Jeremy insisted on masculine blues and greens because he knew deep down that they were having a boy. Watching Marsha’s eyes light up as she circled items she wanted, filled him with an indescribable joy, but every now and then something nagged at him. His guilt. He loved Marsha as he’d never loved another and marrying her brought him close to satisfaction, but he wasn’t there yet. He didn’t feel the marital content and bliss that she seemed to be experiencing. Everyday he hoped for it. Every time another beautiful woman walked by him, he hoped for it. But if Marsha wasn’t around, he swallowed his hopes and asked for that beautiful woman’s number. He wanted so much to be better that he would recite his vows to himself randomly, he would think about the first time he was intimate with Marsha, he would think about how no other woman had fought as hard for him to be in their life. Yet and still the urge to get close to another woman always won out. As strong as the urges were, they would quickly fade out once he touched them. Once he had a few hours of fun with them, it was all over. He would toss their numbers and never look back.
“Hungry?” he asked Marsha as he noticed the sun going down.
She nodded her head without looking up from the glossy pages.
“Spaghettin?” he asked.
She shook her head.
Jeremy’s heart sunk a little as he stood and stretched his legs. He wanted spaghetti and it was quick. “So what do you want then?”
She shrugged. “Poul ak diri.”
Jeremy smiled, though he knew that would take a little longer. “Chicken and rice it is.” He kissed her on the cheek. “Your Creole is getting so good. The baby will definitely be bilingual.”
“Trilingual,” Marsha corrected.
Jeremy rolled his eyes. “Patois is not a language. It’s a dialect.”
“Antigua-talk is a language,” Marsha insisted.
“It’s broken English,” Jeremy teased.
“Nothing broken about it,” Marsha said, finally looking up at him.
It was her eyes staring into his that still seduced him from time to time. “You right,” he said, knowing she would readily give him another history lesson on the linguistics of the African diaspora. He leaned down and kissed her on her lips. “Trilingual. I’ll start dinner.”
He searched the cabinets trying to remember where he’d put everything. He knew that once Marsha got comfortable, she would change everything up, so there was no point in memorizing where things were. As he found his ingredients, his beeper went off. He grabbed it quickly from his hip to stop the noise, hoping that Marsha wouldn’t hear it. The apartment was big furnished, but it still didn’t had that “lived-in” vibe that seemed to help furniture absorb sound. Other than the 305 area code, the number was unrecognizable. He desperately wanted to call it back, because there could only be one person in Miami that would page him from an unknown number. He leaned against the counter and stared at the number. His heart raced as he pressed lips together. Hearing the toilet flush in the background shook him from his pondering. Marsha might come into the kitchen. He tuned the beeper off before shoving it back into his pocket. He wasn’t going to chance the possibility of that number trying again in front of her. He would find out who it was when he had a moment alone.
]]>Mon, 09 Dec 2024 02:49:37 GMThttps://vanessamoorellc.com/committed/december-08th-2024​Jeremy still went out at night, but not as often and he didn’t stay out late. He had another court appearance scheduled for January, but he was hellbent on moving to Jersey. Marsha talked to her parents, letting them know that she would be moving again soon. They were not happy. Lucinda worried that Marsha would be further away from family and Delmont questioned why they were not married yet. “Him jus ah go pick you up and take you from one place to another without gettin married? It nah make sense Marsha. Ya need fa go back to Sheila!” Delmont ranted over the phone on a Sunday afternoon.
Marsha rolled her eyes, comfortable that her parents could not see her facial expressions. “Mi never goin back. So don’t even mention dat. Mi nah too crazy about de move but Jeremy says de opportunities are better. More affordable housin.”
“Well den,” Delmont said, “if him can afford somewhere betta to live, den he can afford fa marry. Don’t call until ya have a weddin date.”
Click.
Marsha stared at the receiver in disbelief. She wouldn’t miss Delmont, and although her mother irked her nerves as well, she loved her and worried that after all these years of being under Delmont’s thumb she might snap. 
That Monday, Marsha called out of work again. This time at Mrs. Hanley’s urging, she went to the doctor to address the random dizzy spells and nausea. Friday afternoon, Marsha confided in her that she hadn’t been feeling well lately.
“Ya pregnant?” Mrs. Hanley asked.
Marsha shook her head in denial, but she wasn’t sure. She’d had a period, but it was nothing like what she was used to. There was the cramping, the migraines, and the nausea, but the flow was extremely light and only lasted two days. Marsha figured her cycle was just changing. Older women claimed that it changed every ten years or so. Marsha was grateful that it was lighter and shorter the last time. She wouldn’t complain about that at all. But the symptoms lasted more than a week and were persistent. 
“See a doctor,” Mrs. Hanley persisted. “Mi think you is bakin something. Mi did dream of fish not too long ago y’know. But mi never did think it’s you.” Mrs. Hanley smiled softly. “If ya need anything, you can call me, okay?”
Marsha appreciated Mrs. Hanley’s concern and the fact that she didn’t pry. 
Not wanting to share this information with Jeremy, she told him she didn’t need a ride to work that morning. She waited for him to leave and then prepared to endure another dirty cab ride. 
This was only the second time Marsha visited this gynecologist. She visited once when she and Jeremy started having sex and considered birth control but never returned. Now she was thinking, had she made a mistake? She should’ve returned and chosen something. She’d heard horrible stories about the IUD. The diaphragm didn’t sound like something she wanted to be bothered with. She and Jeremy used condoms when they remembered or when they weren’t feeling too lazy to look for one. Marsha shook her head to quiet all these thoughts as she sat in the waiting room. The pill sounded like it could be her best option. It put weight on some women. Maybe she could gain a few curves on it. She sucked her teeth quietly wishing she’d thought about this sooner. If it’s not too late, she thought, I’ll just ask for the pill today. Lawd, don’t let it be too late. 
“Marsha Lindo,” a nurse called from the doorway to the right of the front desk. 
Marsha took a deep breath and stood. She continued to pray as she followed the nurse to an examination room. If it’s not too late, she thought again, I’ll ask for the pill. If it’s your will fa be a motha now, den Jeremy will have to be a fadda and stop all his foolishness. “Maybe dis is what we need,” she mumbled as she lay back on the table.
*****
Marsha’s thoughts boomed so loud in her head that she could focus on nothing but the throbbing in her temples. She bit her lip and squeezed her eyes as she peered out of the window of the bus she rode home. She couldn’t bear another smelly cab ride. As various other passengers sat beside her, each bringing with them a range of aromas, she figured the bus was turning out to be no better. At least she had a window seat.
The thought of pregnancy was tolerable while it was just a thought. Once it became reality, Marsha struggled to connect with it. Even when the doctor urged her closer to the edge of the table and inserted the ice-cold speculum, pregnancy was just an idea. She rehearsed a conversation in her head with Jeremy that she thought would be a surefire way to get him to marry her.
Marsha: Guess what?
Jeremy: What’s up babe?
Marsha: We’re going to be parents.
Jeremy: Wow.
Marsha: Before we move to New Jersey, we should get married so that we can be a real family.
Jeremy: Of course. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Marsha: I love you.
Jeremy: I love you too. 
The bus halted at its last stop, Gun Hill Road. Marsha exited and turned the corner to wait for her next bus. If Tina hadn’t called out to her, she never would have noticed her and Sarah coming out of the train station together. 
“Hi,” Tina smirked.
Sarah forced a weak smile. Guilt written all over her soft brown face.
“Hey,” was all Marsha could manage.
“Fancy seein di school teacher walkin in di middle of di day,” Tina carried on.
Marsha shrugged her shoulders as she assessed the familiarity between her and Sarah. 
“Ya man can’t carry you today?” Tina pressed.
“Him gon ah work,” Marsha half lied. She had no idea where Jeremy was at the moment.
Tina chuckled sarcastically. “Dats what it ah call these days?”
Marsha rolled her eyes. “Sarah, how are you?” she asked.
“I’m okay,” Sarah said, unable to make eye contact with her supposed friend.
“Muh phone nah dead y’know?” Marsha asked rhetorically, letting Sarah know she noticed she hadn’t heard much from her in a while.
“Oh cuz last time mi ah call, di phone jus ah ring off. So mi say, is di phone dead or di owner?” Sarah quipped.
Marsha’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Sarah was right though. After the fight in the club, Marsha was so embarrassed she didn’t answer the phone for a while. She bit her lip. “Di owner far from dead. Sometimes people jus need ah rest.”
Sarah nodded her head.
“When last ya talk wit Sheila?” Tina interjected. “Mi hear say she and Scratches expectin.”
Another bolt of shock shot through Martha’s body. Sheila pregnant? She rolled her eyes though. “I thought you and Sheila was best friends?”
“Mi can’t bother wit Sheila too much now. Mi have muh own things ah gwan. But since you and she is family, mi did think you would know wah gwan wit she.” Tina folded her arms and rocked back on her heel.
Marsha never felt so relieved to see the BX8 bus coming her way. “Mi neva say mi nuh know. Mi jus think you would know. Anyway, mi bus ah reach. Take care ya hear?” She boarded the bus without waiting to hear the others bid her goodbye. The thoughts in her head about her upcoming conversation with Jeremy was already drowning out the environmental noise.
*****
Marsha tried to carry on business as usual when she got home. Jeremy wasn’t there so she did whatever cleaning needed to be done and prepared dinner before five o’clock had rolled around. Not yet hungry enough to fix herself a plate of brown-stewed chicken, white rice, and cabbage, Marsha allowed her body some rest with a nap on the couch.
“Embarazada,” Desiré mumbled, shaking her head. 
She and Marsha were sitting side by side in their school uniforms under Marsha’s favorite mango tree in her parents’ yard. Marsha stared at Desiré, unable to speak, wondering how they’d gotten there.
“You gonna tell your parents?” Desiré asked.
“I have to,” Marsha responded, finally remembering how to put words together.
Desiré snickered. “No you don’t. You is grown. You is a big woman now.”
As the word “now” rolled off her tongue, Desiré was no longer Desiré, but now Sheila. 
“Yes!” Marsha barked back at her. “Mi tell ya before mi make my own decisions. Anyway, did you tell ya parents and dem you is pregnant too? What dem ah go say when dem ah find out you is pregnant by a rasta deejay? Ya know dem nah believe inna marriage.”
“And who said I believe in marriage?” The person standing before Marsha was no longer Sheila, but now Jeremy.
“But you love me,” Marsha whined. “Don’t you? You want me to move away wit you. So you love me. We should jus get married so we can be a family.”
“You have a family,” Desiré was now speaking again. “You always had a family. They’re not perfect, but they love you. Lucinda, Delmont, your siblings, even Sheila. They all love you no matter what you think. They’re not who you need to question and you don’t need to replace them. You don’t have to prove anything to anybody. Does Jeremy really love you? Why are you determined to replace your family with him? He’s just Delmont all over again.”
"He’s not! He’s not!” Marsha cried. “He loves me!”
“Marsha! Marsha!” Desiré yelled as she grabbed her best friend by the shoulders and shook. 
Marsha’s eyes popped open as she wrestled from Jeremy’s grip. 
“It’s me babe,” Jeremy said looking into her eyes.
Marsha finally connected with his gaze, realizing she had been dreaming. “What time is it?” she asked.
“It’s just after six,” Jeremy brushed her hair from her forehead. “You were having one helluva nightmare huh?”
“Yeah,” Marsha said as she relaxed back onto the couch. “I told you I’ve been having bad dreams lately.”
“I guess you haven’t been okay since that incident in the summer, huh?” Jeremy said as he let his hand find its way to the back of her scalp.
Marsha sighed. “Or it could jus be a symptom of pregnancy.”
Jeremy froze. He eased his hand from the back of her head and into his own lap. “Pregnancy?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
Jeremy looked her up and down as if he were searching for physical evidence. “You pregnant?” he asked.
“Six weeks,” Marsha admitted.
“What do you wanna do?”
“Di truth?” Marsha decided to go full throttle.
“Of course the truth,” Jeremy pushed.
“I wanna get married before we move to New Jersey.” She brought her body up to a sitting position to level with Jeremy.
“Marsha—I,” Jeremy stammered.
“What is it? Why is it okay dat you can live wit me, we can make love, but we can’t be married?” Marsha leaned forward ignoring fear of Jeremy’s tendency to shut her out.
Jeremy rubbed his head with both hands. “Marsha, I don’t know. I don’t know if I’m ready.”
“Are you ready to be a father?” she asked.
“I don’t know about that either,” Jeremy said towards the floor.
“Well, you’re about to be one. I am keeping my baby. We need to get married next month. Den we can move to New Jersey in di new year.” She decided on her own that the conversation was over by swinging her legs off the couch and heading into the kitchen to tend to her sudden hunger pains.
*****
It was around three in the morning when Marsha rolled over in bed and opened her eyes to see Jeremy staring out of the bedroom window.
“You okay?” she murmured, her voice heavy with sleep.
Jeremy turned to look at her and shrugged.
“What is it?” Marsha asked, knowing she wouldn’t be able to fall asleep until she had some idea what was wrong.
Jeremy walked over and sat on his side of the bed, facing away from Marsha. “I love you Marsha,” he said softly.
“I love you too,” Marsha yawned out her answer.
“To tell you the truth,” Jeremy went on. “You’re not the first woman I loved. But you’re the first to love me back unconditionally.”
Hearing that she wasn’t his first sent a wave of uneasiness through Marsha’s body. She gripped her belly, reminding herself that she would be the mother of his first child though.
“I loved a girl back in Haiti,” Jeremy continued. “We were teenagers, y’know and she was younger. Her parents hated me. They hated me so bad they took her to another country. Her father was a big deal in the Dominican Republic, so they had money. My family got money too, but everybody doesn’t approve of how we have to make our money. So yeah, they took her to another country to get away from me. Then my family moved to Miami and the next thing I knew, she was there too. We tried to make things work but, Lovelie was being Lovelie, y’know and her parent’s ain’t like me anyway. So that was that.”
Marsha battled between listening and falling asleep. She didn’t want to be inconsiderate, nor did she want to miss any key details in this confession, but the fact that it was three in the morning didn’t make the situation easy.
Jeremy kept talking though. “Then I came up here and started hanging out with Steven. He’s a good guy y’know. Everybody likes him. Anyway, he had to pick up something from Ansol one day and I went with him. That was really the first time I saw you Marsha. It was a month before your graduation party. You were standing on the steps of your building with Sheila as we were pulling up. We stalled getting out of the car because Steven knew she would say something slick to me. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw you though. I said to myself, ‘Wow ti fi sa dwe ke syèl la voye, li se yon zanj.’”
“You thought I looked like an angel?” Marsha asked.
Jeremy turned to smile at her. “Your Creole is getting good.”
“Mwen ap eseye,” Marsha said, showing off.
“Eh eh,” Jeremy laughed. “You are more than trying.” He finally relaxed on the bed next to Marsha. He looked over at her and while Marsha believed that he loved her, this was the first time she truly felt that she could see it in his eyes. Jeremy pulled her closer to him and wrapped his arms around her. Marsha lay on his bare chest, listening to his heartbeat. It had almost lulled her back to sleep when he started talking again.
“I don’t want you to think I don’t love you enough to marry you. I just never expected to get this far with you. You have a reputation in your family for being some kind of angelic genius. You’re smart as hell. They’re all really proud of you and they all think you’re beautiful. They literally refer to you as the light skinned Naomi Campbell. The first time I heard Steven say that, I asked him why you weren’t a model. He said ‘cuh she smart ah ras!’”
Marsha giggled at Jeremy’s impression of Steven’s Antigua-talk.
Jeremy stroked her head softly, and again Marsha had to fight to keep her eyes open.
“The night of your party, Steven said we would stop by, and I was excited like a kid on Christmas Eve. I finally got to talk to you, and you are not like anyone I’ve ever met. I had to get to know you. It felt like destiny.”
Marsha could not believe what she was hearing.
“I do love you Marsha. You stand by me no matter what. That’s rare y’know. I think anybody else would’ve been gone the next day when those guys shot at me. But you stayed and you’re always trying to give us a better life.” He paused and kissed the top of her head. “I want to marry you Marsha. I wanna marry you and live a good life in New Jersey. We’ll be safe. I know it’s not that far away. But I promise we’ll be safe. I’ll teach you how to drive, we’ll find a nice big house, and we’ll raise our son, safe, with everything he could ever want.”
“Our son?” Marsha whispered.
“I know it’s a boy,” Jeremy chuckled.
“I’m gonna start looking for a place—”
“But what about my job?” Marsha asked.
Jeremy cleared his throat. “Give them notice. You have a family now and your family comes first.”
Marsha liked the sound of that.
Jeremy wasn’t finished. “I know you wanted to get a master’s degree and travel. We can do all of that. I know you don’t like how my family makes money, but it’ll support us.”
“So you’re still gonna work with your family?” Marsha had hoped he had other plans.
“Look,” Jeremy said in a semi stern tone. “There isn’t much else I can do. I have an arrest on my record now. I’m sure there’s no way I can be a legit lawyer here. I need to just cool out for a while and do some light work for the family. I can’t rely on the money if I am not at least doing my part.”
Marsha sighed. “So that’s just it. No more taking the bar.”
“At least not for a while,” Jeremy said.
Marsha stayed quiet.
“You’re gonna have the life you deserve Marsha. Don’t worry about me. I promise you.”
Marsha nodded her head against his chest.
“We can check out rings this weekend.”
“Okay,” Marsha said softly. That was the last thing she remembered before her alarm clock sounded.
*****
“Papi, I’m marrying Marsha,” Jeremy said. Though they were on the phone he was too nervous to sit down. He’d been standing at the kitchen counter for over ten minutes, holding the phone in his hand, struggling to dial the number. Augustine wasn’t even who he needed to concern himself with. It was his mother who would not be happy. He told Augustine first in hopes that it would take the edge off. It didn’t.
“Oh bondye,” Augustine said before releasing a hearty laugh.
“What’s so funny?” Jeremy asked. The unexpected response was not helping his nerves.
“So this is what you want to do? Or she is making you? You let these women drag you, son. I don’t know my boy. I just don’t know.”Augustine sounded as if he wasn’t taking Jeremy seriously.
“I want to. I love her—”
“And you loved—”
“This is different Papi,” Jeremy protested.
“Okay okay. So when are you going to tell your mother?”
Jeremy should’ve know that Augustine had no intentions of carrying the news. Jeremy sighed. “I don’t know. I was hoping you would.”
“Oh oh. No no my boy. You have done enough for me and Marvin to clean up.” Augustine chuckled again.
“This is not something for you or Marvin to clean up.” Jeremy now regretted the phone call. He could’ve married Marsha and never said a word to his family. She insisted though, since she had to tell her own family.
“She pregnant?” Augustine hit the nail on the head.
“No,” Jeremy quickly lied.
“So what’s the rush? You already living together. What you need to get married for?”
Jeremy could hear the sliding door that led to the pool. Augustine was probably stepping out to smoke. “Yeah, living together isn’t good enough. Marvin suggested I move to Jersey, and I been checking out some places near Tati-Rachel and Tati-Ruthie.”
“You sure you want to live near your mother’s sisters?” Augustine was hit with the giggles again.
“I mean—” Jeremy sighed. “Charlie and Monty are there with their wives and kids.”
“Yeah,” Augustine agreed. “It would be good for you to be close to your cousins again.”
Jeremy nodded his head slowly as if his father could see him agreeing. “I don’t wanna go out there without her. I don’t want to lose her. So we figured we’d get married.” He couldn’t bring himself to admit to his father that Marsha had insisted it because she was pregnant. He would have a lot of backtracking to do when they finally told everyone that she was pregnant though. Jeremy figured he would worry about that later.
“Do what you have to do son,” Augustine said. “If you love her, you want to be with her. Do what you believe is right. You have my blessing.”
Jeremy went from shivering from the inside out to complete relaxation. He did not expect to have his father’s support or blessing. “Thank you Papi. Thank you so much.”
“I love you son.”
Jeremy froze. He tried to think of the last time his father professed love for him. He’d started to believe that both of his parents only loved Lovelie. “I love you too Papi,” he said.
“That’s not to say,” Augustine’s voice elevated, “that I wouldn’t have wanted you to wait until you’re close to thirty, and you find a nice Haitian girl that can make soup Joumou on New Year’s for you. But it’s fine. If you tell me you are happy with Marsha, I will accept that. I will accept her as my daughter. And I want to see you do right by her, but you have to tell your mother yourself.”
“I will,” Jeremy assured.
“Hold on,” Augustine said.
The next thing Jeremy knew, he was hearing his mother’s voice through the receiver.
“Hallo Jeremy, kijan ye?”
“Ahh, I’m okay Mommy.”
“Mm hm, what is going on? More trouble? Do you need money? Do I need to send Lovelie to New York to take care of some things?”
Jeremy could hear his father chastising his mother in the background for her assumptions. “None of that,” Jeremy defended himself. Why waste time, he thought? What’s the worst that could happen? “I’m getting married, Mom.”
“Oh bondye,” Madeline cried out with more dramatic affect that Augustine.
“Don’t call God,” Jeremy said with sarcasm. “I’m sure He doesn’t mind. In fact I’m sure He would rather me marry Marsha than continue to live with her in sin.”
“Oh Jeremy shut up,” Madeline snapped. “It’s always something with you. Is that girl pregnant?”
“No. I love her—”
“And you loved—”
“Oh oh, what is this? I can never love anybody else? Sheesh! Mommy I love Marsha. We are getting married. Let me know if you are coming to the wedding. Papi already gave his blessing.”
“Oh really? Ah ha!” Madeline exclaimed.
“So are you coming?” Jeremy skipped past all her dramatics.
“Of course I am coming. You think I will miss my only son’s wedding? Even if he is marrying a snooty Antiguan.”
Jeremy rolled his eyes. “I’ll be happy to have you there.”
“And you sister?” Madeline threw in.
“I’ll tell her. But it’s going to be a small wedding. I won’t pressure her to come.”
“Ah ha. I hear Marsha’s Creole is getting good. She just wants to know what I say about her huh?” Madeline sucked her teeth.
“I don’t even think she thinks about that,” Jeremy’s throat rattled with inward chuckles. “Anyway, I’ll get back to you with wedding details, okay?”
“Uh huh, okay. Bye bye.” Madeline hung up before Jeremy could say bye back.
He set the phone back in the cradle. It was done. He would tell Marsha when he picked her up from work. They would have to get their timing straight when it came time to announce her pregnancy.
]]>Sun, 08 Dec 2024 22:24:02 GMThttps://vanessamoorellc.com/committed/chapter-nine​​“Marsha girl, what are you doing?” Desiré asked as the two girls sat in their school uniforms on her front steps.
Marsha looked down at her school uniform in confusion. Never wanting to show what she didn’t know, she didn’t bother asking Desiré what she was doing there or how they’d ended up back in Antigua. Yet, somehow she knew what Desiré was talking about. 
“I am doing what I have to do,” she answered. “Everybody thinks I’m a fool, and I don’t know anything, but I know what I have to do in this situation.”
“This isn’t you,” Desiré said softly, Marsha could see the concern in her eyes.. “You would never let a man bring you to this, to so much humiliation. It’s like I don’t even know who you are. You let a whole summer go by since meeting this man and you haven’t done any traveling. What happened to that? You were supposed to start traveling after undergrad.”
Marsha took a sharp breath. “I just haven’t had time to think about dat.”
“Why? Because you spent the summer running behind Jeremy? You almost got shot! Matter of fact, before that the red flags were there!” Desiré seemed near hysterics.
Marsha matched her energy. “Mi nah know what ya talk bout! Di man never do me nuthin until last night, and even den, it was nuthin!”
“You gotta be kidding me!” Desiré maintained the intensity. “Sheila told you from the get go, then there was the situation with Tina, the chick in the club in Miami, you almost got shot! I don’t know how that wasn’t the last straw right there. But nah, you stayed around. Now he got a beeper—”
“I have one too—”
“Oh shut up Marsha! That beeper is for his ho’s. One of the ho’s you caught him with in the club last night,” Desiré shrieked. She jumped off the steps and stood in front of Marsha with her arms folded. 
Marsha noted the long square shaped acrylic tips and wondered where she’d gotten them done. They didn’t get their nails done in Antigua the way they did in New York. “If me ah try fa leave he, everybody’ll be right and I’ll be wrong. If I don’t stay on him, he’ll make a bunch of babies out der like my father. I didn’t follow my dreams, so dis has to be worth it. He can be a perfect man, I know he can.”
“Wake the fuck up!” Desiré yelled. She shoved Marsha so hard that Marsha lost her balance. She gasped for air as she anticipated the back of her skull hitting the concrete step behind her.
*****
Marsha’s eyes popped open at the sound of Jeremy’s key turning in the lock. As she sat up she felt a slight dizziness. Slow down, she told herself. As she gained her bearings, she thought about the dream. Desiré. Marsha shook her head as if she were shaking up the details of her delusion to make them make sense. Jeremy appeared in the doorway. The sight of him rattled Marsha’s stomach. She jumped out of bed and scrambled for the toilet. The Antiguan breakfast that she had enjoyed so much now had her hugging the commode. 
Jeremy followed her into the bathroom. Without a word he ran cold water on a washcloth, making a cold compress for her. When she was done, Marsha flushed the toilet and sat on the edge of the tub. Jeremy filled a cup with cold tap water. He held the compress to her forehead and helped her sip from the plastic vessel.
“What’s up?” he finally asked.
Marsha shrugged her shoulders. “Where did you get de fish from?”
“Hill Avenue,” Jeremy said nonchalantly.
Marsha nodded. “Maybe it’s just muh cycle comin on,” she pondered out loud.
Jeremy nodded his head this time. “You want some ginger tea?”
“No thanks. I can just go lay down.” Marsha stood from the edge of the tub slowly and took her time getting back to the bedroom. She could think of nothing other than lying back down. The bed, even after her strange dream, seemed like the safest place to be. 
“It’s late,” Jeremy said as he followed her. “You didn’t have anything other than breakfast?”
“No,” Marsha said flatly. “I was tired, so I went back to bed.”
“You still tired?”
“I just don’t feel well Jeremy,” Marsha moaned. He was getting on her nerves. She wondered where he’d been all day, but at the same time she wanted him to go back there. She was lying in the bed, he was standing by the window, and somehow there wasn’t enough distance between them. He was in her way. 
Either Jeremy was ignoring Marsha’s energy, or he didn’t feel it because instead of leaving the room as she wished he would, he sat on the end of the bed, and took her feet into his lap. Marsha pulled her knees up to her chest.
“You don’t want a foot rub?” Jeremy said, his voice dripping with confusion.
“No thank you,” Marsha said abruptly.
“Okay,” Jeremy now sounded disappointed, but Marsha could not concern herself with that. 
“I want to be alone,” she admitted, without looking at him.
That was all Jeremy needed. “Okay,” he said. 
He was gone until the wee hours of the morning.
*****
There was no need to discuss it. They would not be attending church the next morning. In fact, they would not be attending church at all. Marsha was embarrassed, and she was surprised at how much of a toll that humiliation took on her to the point of actually feeling ill. She didn’t vomit anymore, but she didn’t feel normal. To distract herself, she put her waning energy into the undone Saturday chores.
When the house was clean, Marsha gave some attention to tweaking her lesson plans for the week. Again, Jeremy spent his time coming in and out of the house. Marsha didn’t bother to ask where he was going. It wasn’t that she didn’t care, she just didn’t have the energy to verbalize her concerns. She told herself she would get to it later. 
After a few days, Marsha’s curiosity started to nag at her again. This time she was struck with the idea to check Jeremy’s beeper at night and right down the numbers she didn’t recognize. She planned to call the numbers back when she had the chance. She kept them scribbled in the back of a notebook she used for work. Jeremy never looked in her workbag or paid any mind to what she used to teach, so she wasn’t worried about him finding the numbers. 
The next Friday rolled around, and Marsha had an opportunity to make some calls. Jeremy had picked her up from work, dropped her at home, and drove off claiming he would be back shortly. That was around four o’clock in the afternoon. It was after eleven when Marsha found herself sitting by the phone with the numbers taunting her.
“You got us,” they seemed to whisper. “What are you going to do with us?” 
“I need to call,” she said out loud to herself. She wondered, what would she say when someone picked up on the other end? What would she say if it were a woman? Or worse, what would she do if it were a woman she recognized? Marsha took a deep breath, straightened herself out in the kitchen chair, and started to dial the first number on her list. The phone rang four times. Marsha hung up. She froze. What if Jeremy was with the person she called? With that, she ripped the paper to shreds and threw it away. “Forget it,” she said and headed to bed.
It was around three o’clock in the morning when her sleep was interrupted by the phone ringing. She regretted not bringing the cordless phone into the room with her as she dragged herself to the kitchen. She was annoyed but worried at the same time. Jeremy still wasn’t home. Her heart pounded as she groaned, “Hello,” into the phone.
“Marsha?” Jeremy said in a husky tone.
“Jeremy, where are you?” she asked.
“Marsha, don’t panic. I got arrested.”
Marsha couldn’t stop the rattling of her nerves. “Arrested?”
“Yes. Calm down,” Jeremy commanded.
Marsha’s eyes were wide open and filling with tears. She rushed back to the bedroom and started searching her dresser drawers for something to throw on. “What’s goin on?” she asked. “How you get arrested? Where are you? Can I bail you out?”
“There’s nothing you can do right now. It’s Friday night. They’re gonna keep me here until Monday, bail or no bail. I’m lucky to be able to even call you. Look, I need you to call Lovelie.”
“Lovelie!” Marsha nearly shrieked.
“Yes. She’ll be able to wire the money to get me out. I’ll have court on Monday. We can post bail then.” Jeremy spoke in quick whispers. 
“I don’t understand,” Marsha said, with the tears still on the brim of her eyelids. “What happened?”
“Don’t worry about it. I only have a few more minutes. I need you to take down Lovelie’s number and call her in the morning.”
“Der’s nobody else mi can call?” Marsha said not wanting to speak to Lovelie. They hadn’t had any communication since their meeting in Miami months earlier.
“No, now are you ready to write the number?”
Marsha ran back to the kitchen and hurriedly got a pen and notepad from a drawer. “Go ahead,” she instructed.
Jeremy gave her the number and told her to call Lovelie first thing in the morning. Marsha felt she would do anything for Jeremy, but she hadn’t realized how taxing that might be. 
There was no need to wait for morning. Marsha never went to sleep. She simply lay in bed waiting to have to make the dreadful phone call to her boyfriend’s sister who hated her.
Stalling, Marsha showered carefully, brushed her teeth meticulously, and slowly made herself tea and porridge for breakfast. By eight-thirty she could not stall any longer. Jeremy said “first thing in the morning,” and Marsha had to do what he said or they may not be able to post bail on Monday.
She picked up the phone and dialed the numbers one at a time as if the digits were now foreign to her.
“Bon maten, bonjou, rezidans Laguerre,” answered a housekeeper.
Marsha cleared her throat. “Bon maten, is Lovelie available?”
“Yes, may I ask who is calling?”
Marsha said a quick prayer that this would go over well. “It’s Marsha. Jeremy’s girlfriend.”
“Ah, kenbe yon ti moman tanpri,” the housekeeper left the phone off the hook and went off to find Lovelie.
Marsha had nearly bit a hole into her lip when she heard Lovelie’s voice on the phone. “Bon maten Marsha, is everything okay?”
“No,” Marsha admitted. “Um, Jeremy is in jail.”
Lovelie sucked her teeth and sighed. “Are you kidding me?” 
“He called me last night and he told me to call you.”
“Uh huh. Okay.” Lovelie sucked her teeth again and grumbled something in Creole to herself. 
Though Marsha could tell that Lovelie was annoyed, she could feel that it was all with Jeremy. 
“Did he tell you where he was picked up?” Lovelie asked.
“Yes,” Marsha said and quickly relayed the information Jeremy had given her.
“Okay. Mesi Marsha.”
“Ou byen akeyi,” Marsha responded.
“Your Creole is soundin good. Keep workin on it. I’ll call you Monday morning. You’ll have to pick up the money from Western Union and take it to the court. Can you do that?” Lovelie kept Marsha in a state of confusion. Was she being nice or was this her version of simply being cordial?
“I have to work,” Marsha considered the fact that she had never called out of work before.
“Well if you want him to come home, you’ll have to go to the court instead. Just call in sick,” Lovelie explained.
“You’re right,” Marsha agreed. “I can pick up de money on Monday.”
“I’ll call you back with details. Pale ak ou pita.” Lovelie hung up without waiting for a goodbye from Marsha.
*****
Marsha did her best to busy herself that Saturday. She was gradually getting used to being home alone, but it was different knowing that Jeremy was in jail. Her mind replayed prison scenes she’d seen in movies. On its own, her imagination would insert Jeremy’s face, often as the victim of a shanking or a slock beating. She wished she could just fast forward to Monday. 
After a tumultuous night of tossing and turning, and a discomfort in her belly, Marsha opted to go to church. She was still feeling embarrassed of her behavior at the club. She knew the community was still talking, yet again, she felt church was the safest place for her to be. She figured she could stay unnoticed and sit in the back as Jeremy often favored. The thought of Jeremy’s preference made her consider whether there would be more talk due to his absence. 
Marsha looked herself over in the mirror attached to her dresser. She smoothed her hands over the satin brown top and black pencil skirt. Her hair was in its usual style, a bun at the nape of her neck, and she wore minimal makeup. She hoped this appearance was low key enough to go unnoticed. 
Twenty minutes had passed by the time Marsha was able to secure a cab over the phone. She was so used to being driven by Jeremy and arriving on time, that she hadn’t considered the possibility of not being late or not getting a ride at all. She sighed as she settled into the backseat of the Lincoln town car. The air was thick with body odor and Marsha only had glance at the floor once to know that although it was morning, she was far from his first passenger of the day. She sat with her buttocks clinched on the tattered leather seat and clutched her purse to her rib cage. This wasn’t her first cab ride, but she’d forgotten how filthy New York cabs were. Jeremy wasn’t perfect, but at least she was spared this experience on a regular basis. Monday morning she would be the first at the courthouse, because transportation like this was unacceptable, and the bus wasn’t an option for a Sunday morning.
The upside of arriving at church late was that only the back rows were available and upon entering, no one would see that she’d arrived without Jeremy. Towards the end of service, as he did on most but not all Sundays, the pastor did an altar call. Anyone who wanted to seek forgiveness, lay down their burdens, rekindle their relationship with the Lord, or begin a relationship with Him, was encouraged to come to the altar for prayer. This was a public display of humbleness that Marsha could never see herself performing. She believed in God, the holy trinity of God the father, God the son, and God the holy spirit, she prayed often and found peace in attending church, but this act was too much for her. Still she admired those who brought themselves forward for the whole congregation to see.
This particular Sunday, as Marsha chastised herself for sitting through a forty-minute sermon, distracted by Jeremy’s dilemma, she saw a familiar figure move to the front of the church. Her stomach rumbled a little as she watched Sheila from behind kneel down at the altar. She wanted to run out of there but she also wanted to know what was going on with her, what had brought her to church that Sunday. She hadn’t laid eyes on her cousin since she’d left her home right before summer. Marsha grinded her teeth together as her stomach, brain, and heart all danced off key to the same song. She missed her cousin. She felt some guilt for leaving. Now more than ever, she knew that Sheila was right about Jeremy. She knew it didn’t matter how much he loved her, he was a bad apple same as her father. Her parents stayed together all those years and her father was no good to her mother. Marsha was repeating the exact same pattern. She knew it and she knew that Sheila knew it too.
Marsha watched as the call was coming to a close and Sheila rose up from the carpeted floor. She squared her shoulders and reminded herself that although she had fallen into the same predicament as her mother, she and Jeremy were still very young and things did not have to stay that way. She would still find a way to make him focus all his attention on her. Surely a weekend in jail would fix him as far as the so-called family business. Before she and Sheila could make eye contact across the sanctuary, Marsha turned and walked briskly out of the church. She walked nearly halfway home on her toes, when her feet began to burn and she remembered that she only intended to walk a couple of blocks to hail another nasty cab home.
*****
Monday morning had finally rolled around. Marsha had not slept in two days and it showed. She called her job first thing and let them know that she was not feeling well. Shortly after, Lovelie called and told her where to pick up the money. Marsha had everything written down as an itinerary in her purse. She went down to the area of the courthouse, but before entering she picked up the cash at the nearby Western Union. She would then wait for Jeremy’s hearing in court. 
Marsha twirled a lock of hair from her low bound ponytail around her finger nervously as she waited for Jeremy to be seen by the judge. She wondered what he’d done and if her affiliation with him could jeopardize her job. Finally, Jeremy stood at the front of the courtroom with the same clothes Marsha had last seen him in. He looked like he’d had a rough weekend and she could imagine how bad he smelled from where she sat. 
Jeremy had been held over the weekend for battery. The bail was $1,500. Marsha sighed, thankful Lovelie had sent $2,000. Jeremy was let go and the bail was processed. 
The couple rode home in silence. Marsha wondered what Jeremy was thinking about as he stared out the window on his side in the backseat of the cab. She kept her lips pressed together to stomach the smells of the car and Jeremy, that battled for the title of most nauseating scents. As they neared their apartment Jeremy finally said, “You gonna have to learn to drive.”
Marsha paid the driver and scooted out of the car behind Jeremy. Once they were upstairs, she waited on the edge of the bed, not sure what to do while he showered. She wanted the full story. She wanted to know exactly what happened, but the right way to ask stumped her.
Jeremy took his time washing and Marsha was grateful. The odor that came off him was the only thing that kept her from throwing her arms around him the minute he was released. 
Finally, Jeremy emerged from the bathroom and Marsha was hit with an unexpected urge to cry. Jeremy looked over at her with befuddlement. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” Marsha admitted. “I—I don’t know muh jus start cry.” She shed the tears into her lap uncontrollably. 
Jeremy sat beside her on the bed and cradled her in his arms. “Shh,” he hushed her. “I’m here. I’m home now. Everything was okay while I was gone?”
Marsha nodded. “I was just so worried, and I was scared. What happened? They said battery. What did you do?”
“It was a crazy situation Marsha. Nothing for you to worry about.” Jeremy stroked her head gently.
“But they arrested you and kept you for the whole weekend,” she cried.
“That’s what happens when you’re picked up on a Friday night. You stay for the whole weekend.”
“And the bail?”
“I told you. It’s nothing for you to really worry about. I’m home now.”
“What if it happens again?”
Jeremy didn’t answer. Instead, he continued to try to console Marsha. He rocked her for a bit and when her cries calmed to a whimper he finally spoke again. “I been thinking,” he said. 
Marsha picked her head up.
“I been thinking we should leave The Bronx.” He stared into Marsha’s eyes.
Marsha could see that he was serious. “Leave di Bronx and go where?”
“Jersey,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone.
“Jersey? Mi nuh no anybody inna New Jersey,” Marsha stared back into his eyes intensely.
“Don’t worry about that. I know people out there. We gotta get out of New York Marsha. Things haven’t been good for business and between the incident in Brooklyn and this weekend, I just don’t think New York is where we need to be.”
“You know people out der, but I don’t.” Marsha shook her head back and forth wildly. 
“It’ll be fine Marsha, just trust me. I want you to be safe.” Jeremy took her wrists in his hands and peered harder into her eyes, looking to reason with her.
Marsha sighed heavily. “What about my job?”
“You could find another one,” Jeremy tilted his head towards her. 
Marsha cocked her head to the side, looking for a way to understand him. He made everything sound so easy, but Marsha knew nothing was ever that way. “I know I could find another one, but I have my benefits and everything here. De teaching system is different in every state Jeremy. I’m in my second year here. I would probably have to start all over—”
“No,” Jeremy shook his head in disagreement. “I’m sure your college credits count for something out there where you’re not starting from scratch. I could ask around just to make sure. You won’t have to work for much longer either way. I just need to make sure we’re good, then you could go back to school for your master’s and start traveling like you always wanted to do.”
Marsha pursed her lips. The beginning of her teaching career had been extremely rough. It got better with Mr. Joseph’s help, but things were not smooth and bump free yet. She still didn’t feel secure in her stride, and now Jeremy wanted to uproot her and start her all over again. He didn’t understand what starting over meant. “I need to think about dis,” she said, freeing her wrists from his hands.
Jeremy nodded his head. “Well, by the new year I’ll have something for us. So think and get ready.”
Marsha sighed deeply again. 
*****
Jeremy saw no other way out. Jersey would be the move, and had to get on that as soon as possible. To make Marsha feel comfortable, he considered areas that were right over the George Washington Bridge. Marvin suggested a little further out, in areas where there were more relatives. With that, Jeremy settled on East Orange. It wasn’t the best part of Jersey, but since his relatives were nearby, and there was a large Haitian community, Jeremy knew they would be safe and welcomed.
Marsha was under the impression that the battery charge was business related, but it wasn’t. Jeremy had gotten into it with a guy over a girl and a dominoes game. Jeremy had a friend named Barry who held weekly domino games in his backyard or basement, depending on the season or weather. Barry lived in the cutthroat neighborhood Edenwald, where gunshots were as common as cracks in the sidewalks and sirens were the background music.
On this night, the game was in the basement. Jeremy wasn’t particularly fond of hanging out in the basement, but he’d be stressed from an issue with an arms shipment and Marvin was on his neck about it. Not being able to go into Brooklyn made things harder on everybody and Marvin was forced to do things he was phasing himself out of. He and Jeremy met in lower Manhattan earlier that evening and the meeting was as smooth as it usually was. Marvin usually cut him the most slack in the family, but not this time. Jeremy needed to blow off some steam and perhaps, win an extra dollar or two. So he figured he could stomach the stale beer and old carpet smells for a few hours before cuddling up to Marsha at home.
As usual, he dominated the table, collecting everyone’s paycheck leftovers. All the while, a quiet Jamaican, with skin as dark as Jeremy’s, height just as tall, and stature just as broad, skulked in the corner watching. Finally, he sat down across from Jeremy, looking for a challenge. When Jeremy won the first round, he sucked his teeth. Money lost and all, none of the usuals on the table were sore losers. This guy however, made it clear that he wasn’t too thrilled about being on the downside of Jeremy’s losing streak.
“Barry, how long ya gonna let a cheater take up everybody money?” the guy growled.
“Cheater?” Jeremy retorted. Jeremy was used to being called a cheater, but not in this regard. Dominoes was something he was actually good at. He had absolutely no reason to cheat. He played for fun, to decompress, and because it guaranteed him extra spending money. If there was anything he didn’t have to do, it certainly wasn’t cheat at a dominoes game for money, when he made more off his illegalities in a day than all of these guys made in their bi-weekly paychecks. “Who’s the cheater?” Jeremy asked for clarification.
“You!” the guy pointed his sausage-sized finger across the table directly at Jeremy.
Jeremy tried to laugh it off. “Look, if you can’t take the heat, then get out the kitchen. Ain’t that what the Americans say?”
“Word,” said someone in the background.
“It’s not heat mi can’t take. It’s cheaters mi nah like!” The guy pounded his two fists on the table rattling the dominoes out of place.
“Yo, take ya losses or get up from the table dude!” Jeremy hurled the words back at him, letting him know he was no punk.
The guy stood and Jeremy stood too.
“Ah who di bumbaclot you ah talk?” the guy roared.
Finally Barry came over to settle the situation that was not going to settle itself. “Kev, sit down,” he insisted. But Kevin shrugged Barry away.
“Whole time mi ah watch dis guy play, mi say mi know him from some place. Him ah cheat pon di table and him a cheat pon him woman too!”
A jolt of fright shot through Jeremy. Was this one of Marsha’s brothers? To his knowledge, none of them were in the states, and Marsha didn’t interact with them much either. Why now? His mind raced. I’m being good. I haven’t touched another woman in weeks.
“What di hell ya talkin?” Barry shouted.
“Now mi recognized him,” Kevin went on. “Dis di one dogged out mi sister!”
“I don’t know your sister man,” Jeremy chanced.
“You don’t remember Chantel?” Kevin was now coming around the table.
For a split second, Jeremy didn’t remember Chantel. But looking at the guy’s features it hit him. He’d slept with that girl one time, months ago. She got all upset when she asked Jeremy to leave Marsha and he refused, and he never spoke to her again. Jeremy rolled his eyes. “Your sister was never my woman. Didn’t she move on? Let that shit go. Me and my lady is good. Been good. Know what? I’m out.” Jeremy went to step around Kevin but Kevin shoved him, knocking him off balance for a moment. It baffled Jeremy that the guy was willing to take it there after all this time. He don’t know me, Jeremy said to himself and decked the guy square in the nose.
“Yo! Yo! Yo!” Barry shouted, not wanting any violence in his hovel. But it was too late. Kevin charged forward, not caring that blood gushed from his nose. He threw a punch but Jeremy dodged it, sending him flying forward into a wall. Barry and a few others scrambled to break up the fight but Kevin was back on his feet in a flash.
“Vin chen!” Jeremy challenged him in Creole.
Kevin, looking more frustrated that had no idea what Jeremy was saying to him, had his arm around Jeremy’s neck, pressing him down into a stifling headlock. Jeremy could feel the pressure tightening around his throat, causing him to feel slightly lightheaded.
“Mi ah kill you, you fuckin dirty bumbaclot Haitian boy,” Kevin snarled.
As Jeremy gasped for air, he reached for and grabbed a beer bottle teetering on the edge of the domino table. He managed to swing upwards and crash the bottle down on top of Kevin’s head. Kevin’s grip on his neck loosened as he fell to the floor holding his head. Blood colored his black skin red and soaked the front of his clothes. Jeremy stood out of breath and rushed for the door, but was backed in by the police with their guns out.
They all got picked up, but he was the only one held on a battery charge. It was time to get out of The Bronx.]]>