The Other Side of the Pillow

“Damn, Jemistry. Why not just whip out a switchblade and carve my ass up? Better yet, a machete and chop my head off?”

“I’m trying to tell you the truth . . . for once. People have always sugarcoated shit for you, including me. In many ways, I’ve been your crutch—something that’s supposed to be a temporary easement so that strength can be regained in a limb.”

“You’re not my crutch. I’ve always taken care of myself.”

“Again, you’re standing there lying.” I looked around the parking lot. People were walking into the building and waving at me, but no one was currently within earshot. “And for whose benefit? You and I both know that’s not true.

“It was a bad idea for you to come here, Winsome. I don’t hate you. I’m done with you. I’m done allowing you to bring havoc and chaos into my life. There was a time when I needed that. I craved it like a crack junkie craves a pipe. We were perfect for each other. Two hurt people, living together, wallowing in pity together, and licking each other’s wounds.

“But I’m in love now. I’m in love with a man who genuinely loves me back, and I’m not risking my last shot . . . my one shot at happiness for you or anyone else.”

Winsome started walking backward toward her car. “I hate you.”

“I’m going to pretend like you really don’t mean that, but if you do, I accept that. If having you hate me means having Tevin love me for the remainder of my natural life, I’ll accept that.”

“I can’t believe you’re choosing him over me.”

“Winsome, you’re my friend. You were never my woman.” I paused, picked my crate back up, and then added, “I hope that you find love one day, but that’s never going to happen until you’re receptive to it. Trust me, I speak from experience.

“I wasted so many years trying to deflect men that it made it impossible for any man to get through my barrier. I finally decided that I don’t want to die with a lot of regrets. I want to grow old with someone. I want to die in someone’s arms, or have them die in mine and know that I am there for them, o

r better yet, die in each other’s arms.”

“So that’s it? You’re casting me completely out of your life? After I came here to work things out?”

“This can’t be worked out. Working this out would mean crawling back down in that hole with you and burying my face in the sand, and I’m not doing it. Working this out would mean going home to Tevin tonight and disrespecting him by telling him that I’m dealing with you again. I can’t do that.”

I anticipated Winsome saying something else sarcastic, going the hell off, or at least saying something deep and reflective . . . in an attempt to get in the proverbial last word. Instead, she just turned and walked away in silence.

I yelled after her. “You need to go talk to someone, Winsome! Please go talk to someone!”

By the time I got to the front steps of the school, she was peeling out of the parking lot. One of the male students offered to carry the crate inside for me.

I looked at him and forced a smile. “Thanks, and welcome to Medgar Evers. What’s your name and what grade are you in?”

Chapter Twenty-six

“Love doesn’t make the world go ’round. Love is what makes the ride worthwhile.”

—Unknown

Tevin met me at my OB/GYN’s office for my prenatal checkup after school. He was excited and asked a thousand questions even though he was a doctor himself. You would’ve thought he was back in medical school and that I was a test subject with an assigned number like E-105.

After Dr. Horton assured him that both the baby and I were fine, he calmed down a little. I made an appointment for four weeks later and Tevin walked me to the parking garage. He had found street parking.

He suddenly seemed quiet. A few moments earlier, no one could shut his ass up.

“What’s wrong with you?” I asked him, locking my left arm into his right. “Dr. Horton said everything’s great.”

“And that’s fantastic. I can’t wait until the next visit so we can see the sonogram.”

“I meant to ask you about that. Do you think we should find out the sex?”

“That’s up to you, baby.”

“Well, don’t you want to know whether we’re having a boy or a girl?”

“All I really care about is the baby being healthy, having ten fingers and toes, and coming home with us.” He stopped walking and turned toward me, then took my hands. “Coming home to his or her married parents.”