Should Have Known Better

“Do you, Mama?” R. J. asked, linking arms with me.

“Sure, baby,” I said. “Of course I want to hear the joke.” I looked at Reginald, but I could see Sasha on his other side smiling adoringly at him as she patted Cheyenne on the back.

“Well, there was this lady sperm whale named Trixy and she couldn’t read,” Reginald started and they all laughed.

The rest of the joke was so absurd that I couldn’t possibly keep up or remember it. After thirty seconds of Trixy, I was just nodding along and spying at my family around the table. They were laughing after nearly every word and R. J. even smiled at his sister. When it was over, Cheyenne was laughing hysterically and leaning into Sasha’s shoulder. I laughed, too, but I knew that no one was convinced that I’d gotten the joke. My head was aching. The room was spinning. I didn’t want to hear another joke about anything.

After I nearly vomited when a spoonful of Sasha’s eggs were scooped onto my plate, Sasha insisted that I return to bed and shuffled me down the hallway with a cup of coffee in her hand.

“You can stay in here all day if you like,” she said, tucking me back into the bed. “I can handle them.”

“I’ll be better in a second. I just need a little nap.” I sighed. I wanted to fight my illness, but my head was getting heavy again and I wanted to sleep so badly. I knew it must’ve been the hangover causing this, but I really felt ill. Sasha chalked it up to age.

“We’ll be fine. Get some rest.” She poofed the pillow behind me one more time and headed toward the door where she turned off the light. “You deserve a break.”

As I drifted into a dream of slimy eggs and Trixy the sperm whale, I promised myself that I wouldn’t sleep too long. I’d just get an extra hour and then get up to clean the house. I had to get the kids’ stuff ready for school on Monday and cook dinner. Sasha would probably be leaving early to get back to Atlanta and I wanted to spend a little time with her. Sixty minutes would be enough. It would be two o’clock. I’d need to rush to get the house in order. I agreed to and promised myself this much, but when I finally lifted my head again and looked at my cell phone, it was after five o’clock.

“What?” I sat up quickly and looked around the room like I had to be dreaming. How could I have slept for four more hours?

I hurried to the bathroom, drank nearly half a bottle of Pepto-Bismol, and popped two Advil. My face looked sunken and shriveled in the mirror. I thought of taking a shower, but I was almost sure the weight of the water would wash me down the drain. That’s how ragged I felt.

I was happy to find Reginald was alone in the living room with the kids. They were sitting on the couch watching a basketball game. I didn’t know where Sasha was, but the idea of my house being back to normal was calming. Nothing had really happened or went wrong, but I was getting more tired and my lingering hangover was beginning to make me feel agitated. I decided that it wasn’t her. She hadn’t done anything wrong. I just wanted to be alone with my family.

“I should’ve known you guys would be in here doing the sports thing,” I said, smiling at my little crew doing their usual Sunday evening routine. Reginald was far from being the most attentive father, but the kids’ desire to be around him and the reality that watching television presented an activity where he didn’t have to really do anything, made Sunday sports an easy pick. “Where’s Sasha?”

Someone scored and no one could take their eyes off of the television. R. J. pointed toward the kitchen.

Before I could see Sasha, I heard her talking. She said that something was wonderful. I walked into the kitchen. The refrigerator door was open. She appeared from behind it and smiled at me. She pointed at my baby blue jogging suit and gave a thumbs-up as she continued her conversation. She closed the door with her foot and carried a head of lettuce to the counter as if she’d been cooking in my kitchen for years.

“That’s great, Joe,” she said. Her voice was sweeter and more sultry than usual. “You can leave the tickets at Will Call. But, like I said, I’m not sure I’ll be back in Atlanta by then. Still taking care of my soror!” She sighed at me sympathetically.

I walked to the counter where she was standing. There was lasagna cooling on the stove. I reached for the lettuce, but Sasha pulled away, shook her head.

“Love it, darling,” she said. “Smooches.” She hung up the phone and looked at me.

“I can’t believe you cooked dinner,” I said. “I can’t have you make a salad, too. I can do that.”

“Nonsense. You need your rest.”

“No, you need your rest. Don’t you have to get back to Atlanta?”

“I’m in no rush. I’ve been enjoying myself so much. I could get used to Augusta.”

“But what about that phone call? Sounds like you have a hot date.”

“Date? Oh, no.” Sasha laughed. “That was just Joe Johnson. He plays for the Hawks. A good friend of mine. I did a feature on his charity. He leaves me tickets sometimes.”

“Tickets?” Reginald asked, appearing in the kitchen suddenly to switch out his beer. He tossed an empty bottle into the trash and went to the refrigerator. “Tickets for what?”

“The Hawks game tonight,” Sasha revealed.

“You have tickets for the game?” Reginald looked up from the refrigerator.

“Yeah, my friend Joe left them for me.”

“Joe Johnson?”

She nodded.