The Other Side of the Pillow

I couldn’t believe that I was now preaching everything that Tevin had been trying to convince me of all along.

“No, they are not the same,” Estella said. “I’m in love with another man, engaged to be married in a few months.”

“Congratulations!”

“Thank you. I never thought I’d open up to someone else. I had to find a man who didn’t want, nor expect me to bear, children.” She lowered her eyes. “I never told Tevin this, and he still doesn’t know. I had my tubes tied after my last miscarriage. I couldn’t go through that again . . . not ever.”

“I honestly don’t blame you. You did what you felt you had to do . . . but he does know you tied your tubes.”

Estella looked up at me, stunned. “But how?”

I shrugged. “I’m not sure but he definitely knows. He told me that you’d done it.”

“I should’ve known that he’d figured it out.” She sighed and then added, “That was one of the main reasons that I decided to divorce him. It was a lie, a deception, and I could not face him every day knowing what I had done. Nor could I confess what I had done . . . not back then.”

“I understand.”

“He already felt robbed. Telling him that I had removed any chance of him ever fathering a child with me would have killed him.”

“Well, everything happens for a reason. We’ll all be fine, and now you can stop worrying about deceiving him since he already knew. Life goes on and every day is a gift. Truly, it is.”

Estella stood up, and so did I.

She gathered her purse and keys. “I’m glad that we could share this brief encounter together. Thank you for even letting me in the door.”

“I’ll tell Tevin that you came by,” I said.

She was walking toward the foyer and froze, then turned back to me. “I’m not going to encourage or discourage you from telling him that I was here. He doesn’t know. I took it upon myself to come and speak with you. He was only asking for advice, not for me to contact you.”

I nodded. “I see.”

“I wish the two of you nothing but a happy, long life together. And many, many more kids.”

I giggled. “I don’t know about all that. I’m not a spring chicken. This one pregnancy is a chore.”

We walked to the front door together and I opened it.

She was about to walk out without saying anything.

“Estella, thanks for coming to see me. Even though my first inclination was to be upset about it, this has actually been . . . intriguing. Getting to meet you, even for a few moments, gives me a lot of insight into Tevin.”

“Good. And I’m glad we met as well. It gives me peace to know that he’s in such wonderful hands now.”

I don’t know what inspired me to do it, but I hugged her . . . tight. She hugged me back. When we let go of the embrace, she smiled and walked away to her car.

Chapter Thirty-one

“Everyone has their own reasons for waking up in the morning. Mine is you.”

—Unknown

Geesh, I was horny all the time. Tevin was horny as well but being overly cautious when it came to having sex with me. It was driving me crazy. So I would take matters into my own hands. I decided not to mention Estella coming by. It would have solved nothing and he would have been worried about my feelings. I was actually cool with the entire thing, which shocked even me. In many ways, it had helped to solidify my decision to eventually get married.

Courtney and Floyd had joined us for dinner that Friday night at the Old Ebbitt Grill on Fifteenth Street, within walking distance of the White House. It was amazing how DC had gone through a massive gentrification. When I was a child, it was truly “the Chocolate City.” Now it was about fifty percent African-American, forty percent Caucasian, and the rest was made up of Hispanics, Asians, and others. Areas that used to be infamous for gang activity were now crowded with nightlife, new hangouts, and people out mingling way into the wee hours of the morning, without any fear for their safety. The reputation had changed for the better. It had evolved.

The world had evolved, though. We had our first African-American president in office. When it became clear that Senator Barack Obama had an actual chance of winning, I had rushed to have anything to do with his campaign. It was an exciting time and his wife, Michelle, was my idol. Everything about her was stylish, sophisticated, and she clearly was a unique, incredible woman.

President Obama had won his second term and it also made one thing clear. Even though he had won both elections by incredible, unquestionable margins, racism was still alive and well in the United States. In my opinion, no other POTUS had ever been disrespected or talked down upon in recent history as he was. At least, not to my recollection. But still, he stood strong, confident, and assured. A spectacular role model for young men of all races who ensured them that having the audacity to hope could actually pay off in the end. That was what I admired about him the most. He believed that he could do it and that was half the battle.