Exposed: A Novel (26 page)

Chapter 60
Taylor

Nope. No other option, I convinced myself. If I wanted to care for my baby and survive the next few months until my due date, I needed to make money.

I mentally listed the places I applied to work for. Maybe the fact that I didn’t have a working phone number added to my bad luck. I did use a payphone to call a few managers and they said they weren’t hiring, even though they still had “Now Hiring” signs on their doors.

Oh well. I pulled down the visor of my car and checked my reflection.

Scraggly hair, no makeup, circles under my eyes I never knew existed—obviously my bathing sessions at the sink in Walgreens hadn’t done much for me in the looks department. So much that I wondered if anyone would even want to have sex with me right now.

I looked at my stomach. Something needed to be done. In order to buy makeup and clothes to make more money, I needed to make some now.

I stepped out of my car, crossed the street, and positioned myself on the edge of the curb near one of the strip clubs. A few times I considered sticking my thumb out, but thought I’d do it wrong.

The sun made its way to the other side of the world as the neon glow peeked between buildings and highlighted my skin. The lighting kind of made me look better, so I was thankful.

I pulled my skirt up a little, pushed my swollen breast implants up, and waited for someone to drive up to me. The December air gave me goose bumps. I needed a warm car, quick.

Cars passed. Men looked me up and down. But their taillights disappeared down the street and they’d pick up another woman. Every time a woman got into a car, another one took her place. I thought for sure they planned it and I wondered if I was standing in the wrong place. Or maybe no one wanted a pregnant woman.

I sat on the curb, feeling Layla’s hands or feet, and imagined her heartbeat. Hopefully she wouldn’t feel what was about to happen to us.

A glossy black SUV slowed a few feet in front of me. I stood. The car inched closer. My reflection, painted on the door with neon lights in the background, gave me chills.

The window hummed its way down, revealing a man with short gray hair and a business suit. I saw the glimmer of a wedding band on his left hand. He nodded for me to get in.

I did, shivering from my fingers to my knees.

“Wow, you have a nice pregnant glow, don’t you?” He smiled at me. Not through me. Right at me like he knew me for years.

I tried to smile, but noticed my shaking foot and couldn’t focus on anything but the growing nausea in my stomach.

“How much do you want up front?”

The only price I could think of was enough to provide gas to get through a few more weeks.

“Twenty-five dollars.” My words blew through the air in puffs of frosted steam.

The man licked his lips and nodded. “I think you’re worth a little more than that.” He pulled over in front of dingy motel not far from The Block. While looking at me he fished through his wallet and handed me five twenties. “I think this is better, what do you think?”

Nodding, I put the money in the front pocket of my jean skirt, right under Layla. I saw the strange man staring at my belly and I realized the top button of my skirt was unbuttoned. Since my stomach grew I couldn’t button it anymore.

I fidgeted with the frays on my skirt and tried so hard to calm my foot.

The stranger touched my face. I shivered.

“How old are you?” he asked.

“Twenty-one.” I lied.

He nodded to the motel and smirked, then got out of the car and walked around the SUV to my side of the car. Everything I saw in him—the way his shoulders swung forward, the way he kept another side of himself hidden under a suit and tie, the way he wore an almost constant wicked smile—reminded me of The Joker.

And I was about to give my body to him.

But it would be worth it to take care of Layla.

The Joker opened the door for me and offered his hand. The same hand that sparkled with a wedding band. I ignored his help and slid out of his SUV.

Again, he tried to take my hand. Overlooking it, I walked in front of him toward the motel. The January wind whipped its arms around me, holding me in the cold where my heart wanted to stay, but my body kept walking toward the motel.

The Joker’s pressed pants swished by me as he rushed to open the door for me. His sloppy grin grew larger. I refused to look into his eyes, but I wondered what was behind them and if he was hurting like me.

But I didn’t need to look into his eyes to know the answer. His actions told me he was hurting. And in some sick corner of my brain I thought maybe I could help him. Maybe he’d want to talk instead of having sex. Apparently, I had a savior complex.

He checked in and led me to a room. The two was falling off the door and looked more like a five. He clicked the door open and walked inside. After all the films I made, my heart still thumped so fast it made me nauseous. That craving, that deep in the mind craving to get high lingered inside of me. Cola, my old friend. Too dangerous for a baby, but I still missed him. I still wanted him in times like this almost as much as I wished I could go back to the day Daddy died and tell him not to leave.

The Joker sat on the bed and patted the area beside him. I walked over and sat with him, hoping he’d talk to me, but he touched my face and said, “Can I see that belly of yours?”

I tried to swallow but my mouth was too dry. I know, I know, I did so many porn films, had sex with so many strangers, this should have been cake to me. But it was too intimate, too scary. The absence of cameras made me feel more exposed.

Joker tugged my shirt. “You are beautiful,” he said. “Show me.”

Beautiful.

I hated beautiful.

Chapter 61
Ally

Two things to be thankful for as I walked out of my prenatal appointment. One, I didn’t see Blondie. And two, the baby’s heartbeat was strong and she was a girl. A little girl. Jessie wanted a girl for years. I wanted a boy first, but mainly because I longed for an older brother as I grew up.

I couldn’t wait to tell Jessie.

As I drove back home I planned his favorite dinner in my head. Steak, medium well, mashed potatoes with chives, sweet corn on the cob, and sparkling white grape and peach juice.

The baby—our baby girl—kicked. She must’ve liked the idea of dinner. I held my belly as I drove home, hoping Jessie wouldn’t be there so I could surprise him.

Jessie’s car, parked in the garage, disappointed me, but I still couldn’t wait to tell him about his little girl.

I walked inside and saw him sitting on the living floor surrounded by pillows and Chinese food. My favorite.

I smiled and sighed. He’s trying to prove it, I thought.

Soft music hummed in the background. Candlelight flickered on the walls and everything they surrounded. Jessie watched me walk to him. I knew he loved me, I could see it in his weak smile, but I wanted him to love me enough to let go of the other women.

I sat next to him on the floor.

His fingers ran down my arm and stopped at my hand.

“You are the only woman I want.”

I wanted to believe him.

“And I love you.”

I smiled and looked at the cartons of Chinese food, remembering our first meal as a married couple on the floor of our empty apartment.

“I’m really trying, Jess. It’s hard for me to understand why you can’t stop. If you really love me and this baby, why can’t you stop?”

“I am getting better. You might not believe me, and that’s fine, I understand why you don’t, but I really am getting better. It’s such a bad habit, formed over decades. That alone should help you realize that it’s not about you.”

“But if it’s not about me, then why did you choose to come downstairs and call a 900 number instead of waking me up?”

“It’s not like that. When I woke up that night I had a ton of anxiety from this job and the emotional distance between us. I felt like a failure so I came downstairs to get something to drink since I couldn’t sleep. Then one thought lead to another and I fell again.”

“Why didn’t you come to me when the temptation started?”

“Honestly?”

I nodded, although the question mark on the end of honestly made me wonder if I really wanted to hear the rest.

“Once it gets to that point and I’m alone . . . it’s hard to turn back.”

“But why do you even put yourself in th—” I stopped myself, breathed, then started again, “Let’s not talk about this right now. Let’s eat.”

“I want to pray before we eat.”

I looked down.

Jessie closed his eyes. I watched his lips move as he thanked God for our marriage, the food, our baby, and asked Him for provision and grace.

When he opened his eyes I reached for a container filled with fried rice. Jessie went for the egg rolls and duck sauce.

“I have news,” I said between forkfuls.

With practically an entire egg roll in his mouth, Jessie raised his eyebrows and urged me to go on.

“Can you guess?”

“What are you up to?”

“Nothing, but I was wondering if maybe you would want to talk about names for our baby.”

His face lit up. “But I thought you wanted to wait until the third trimester?”

“I am in the third trimester.” I laughed. “Only three more months to go and we’ll get to meet her.”

“Wow.” He ate a mouthful of house lo mien. “I can’t believe she will be here in three?” His fork fell to the container below it. “Wait. Did you say her?”

My smile grew.

“A baby girl?” Jessie laughed. “It’s a girl? This isn’t a prank, is it?”

“No. It’s really a girl.”

For the next thirty minutes we finished our Chinese food, laughed about random memories, and named our child. Jessie’d stop every few minutes to laugh and say, “Are you kidding me? A baby girl?”

Avelina Joy Graham. We both knew we wanted her name to have meaning. Joy immediately crossed our minds since we waited so long to finally get pregnant. And Avelina, which means life, just happened upon us when we did a random baby name search online. Life and joy couldn’t describe her more.

I couldn’t wait to meet her. So badly I wanted her life, the combination of Jessie and myself, to heal our marriage and take my mind off those other women. I knew one day I’d get over it, and I wanted Avelina to help me get there.

So for the next few weeks I occupied myself with thoughts of her. Jessie and I painted the nursery lavender. I shopped for her all the time, even if I didn’t buy things I still meandered through the baby clothes for hours, feeling her feet in my side. Anything I could do to keep my mind off of Jessie’s fantasyland and be happy.

And before I knew it, Jessie and I visited Lisa.

She gave me a big smile and said, “You’re full-term. Avelina is healthy and able to come out when she’s ready. Now you just have to wait.”

Jessie smiled at me. Avelina twisted inside of me, so I rolled slightly to my left to push her foot from my rib. I loved feeling her feet, imagining her little toes, all wrinkled and pink. Avelina means life and there’s no denying it. That girl always kicked inside of me.

“If you want we can do a pelvic exam just to see if you’re dilated at all, but we don’t have to do that.” Lisa flipped through my folder.

Jessie and I looked at each other.

“I think we’ll wait,” I said. “She’ll come when she’s ready.”

Lisa smiled.

“Are you sure I’ll know when I go into labor? Will I be able to get to the hospital before she comes out?”

“Oh, dear one.” Lisa loved people through her smile. “You’ll be fine. Most likely you will be in labor for at least ten hours or so with your first baby. I’m not saying it doesn’t happen quick sometimes, but most likely you’ll be at home walking out contractions before you even come here.” She stood and patted my knee, then helped me sit up. “Avelina will be here before you know it.”

Her words lingered in my mind the rest of the day.