Suspicions (4 page)

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Authors: Sasha Campbell

BOOK: Suspicions
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He heard me. That was just his way of avoiding the question. “Grant, I didn't stutter. I want another baby.”
He gave a strangled laugh. “I thought we were through taking in foster children?”
I shook my head. Okay, maybe he truly didn't get it. “No, I don't want someone else's baby. I want a daughter of my own.”
Grant started laughing. “You're kidding, right?”
“Why would I be kidding?”
“Because we're too old.”
“Speak for yourself. I'm not even forty yet, but I can't say the same about you.” I poked his beer belly for emphasis. He quickly sobered.
“Noelle, what I'm saying is . . . Scott is gone, and for the first time in eighteen years we have the house all to ourselves. Why would you want to change that?”
“You know I always wanted a daughter of my own. Foster children were great, but I've always wanted to have another baby. It just never happened for us, but I would like for us to try again even if I have to be artificially inseminated.”
Sighing, Grant rolled over in the bed and rose. “I really don't want any more.”
“Why not?”
He swung around. “Why do you think? Because we can finally enjoy our lives. No more babysitters and screaming kids. For once I can run around my own house naked.” My eyes dropped to his dick. Yes, and he looked good doing it. “Sweetheart, I don't want another child. All I want to do is to enjoy my wife.”
“Baby—”
Grant held up his hand. “Baby nothing. How about we go on a trip? I hear Aruba is really nice this time of year. How's a week out under the tropical sun sound?”
A vacation did sound like a good idea. We hadn't had one in years. “How about it? School will be out soon for the summer and I'm sure Tiffany can take care of the salon for a week.”
Grant started rubbing my ankles. He knows that does things to me. “Well . . . it does sound like fun.”
“Of course it is. Noelle . . . I don't want another baby. I want just you. Only you.” He kissed my lips.
“Okay, I guess.” Maybe he was right. Maybe a baby wasn't the answer. All I could do was hope a vacation would bring us closer again.
4
Candace
“How about me taking you to dinner after you get off tonight?”
I glared up at the tall light-skinned brother standing on the other side of the desk with the balls to ask me out.
No, he didn't.
Okay, let's look at this picture: We were at the Southside Medical Clinic on 95th and Thursday evening was free clinic night, or better known as STD night. Dude was here because he got a call from one of our nurses informing him that someone he'd had sexual contact with had contracted a sexually transmitted disease. The only reason why I was there was because I worked as a receptionist.
“Yo, sexy. You wanna have dinner or what?”
It took everything I had not to blast him for even thinking I'd been interested in even walking his infected ass to the door. “Nah, boo.” He looked so surprised by my answer, it took everything I had not to laugh.
Are you serious?
As soon as he returned to his seat, Brenda, one of our licensed practical nurses, moved over beside me. “Did he just ask you out?” she whispered.
“Girl, yes.” I rolled my eyes and reached for the next patient's file. “He's got some balls.”
“Yeah, but you don't want what's growing down there.”
I practically choked with laughter. Homeboy looked me dead in my face, so I swung my chair around and got back to work, checking patients in.
I've been working for the clinic for going on two years. It was barely above minimum wage, but it definitely beat a blank. The best thing about working there, and the main reason why I hadn't already quit, were the benefits. With a 3-year-old, I definitely needed something.
I called the next patient back, then glanced down at her patient history and cringed. She was being treated for genital warts. When I first started working here, I watched a tape they kept in the education department on sexually transmitted diseases. Warts were nothing nice. The patient was 33. I couldn't understand how someone her age could be so careless. Watching those videos and working at the Southside Medical Clinic had been a rude awakening for me. I learned that when you have unprotected sex with someone, you're sleeping with them and everyone else they have slept with. That shit was reality and ain't nothing to take lightly.
The rest of the evening went smoothly. I hated Thursday nights because it would be close to eight before I finally got out of there. Then I had to be in at nine tomorrow.
I had just sent another patient back to see the doctor when I happened to look up and see Pierre step into the clinic. At one time, I thought he might have been my prince, but he never gave me a chance, not that I was complaining.
“Hey, Pierre.”
“Hey, Candace. Can you let Gloria know I'll be out front waiting?”
“Sure.” I watched him leave, admiring the way he moved in jeans, then shook my head. He was proof that everything that looked good isn't always good for you. He dated Gloria. An
America's Next Top Model
wannabe. I worked the front desk while she worked the back office, processing insurance claims. Several months ago, I had just met Pierre at the candy store on the corner when he dropped by the office one afternoon to ask me out to lunch. My daughter Miasha was sick, so I had to leave early and declined. Gloria's sneaky ass stole him from me while my back was turned. I didn't know it then, but she had actually done me a favor. Since we're contracted by the city, we have access to the State of Illinois Heath Department's database. I looked Pierre's ass up in our computer and discovered he had been a patient three years ago. Treated for chlamydia. Why in the world would Gloria want a man who didn't even care enough about himself to use a condom? I wasn't giving my coochie up to just anybody. Now, don't get me wrong; I wasn't like my girl Tiffany, saving myself until I get married. I respected my girl's decision; however, there was no way in hell I'd marry somebody before I knew what he was working with. On the same token, I wasn't trying to sample every piece of dessert in the bakery window either. But when I do, trust and believe, I make sure he uses a condom. When the relationship's over, I wanted it to be the end. I don't have time for someone from the health department calling to tell me someone I screwed had been treated for an STD and I needed to come in. I had more respect for myself than that.
I guess having a strong man in my life made a big impact on my life. I am the daughter of a Baptist preacher. Although my father is Mexican, he was raised in black churches. That's how he met my mama. Papa said he fell in love the moment he heard her singing in the choir. Together they built Lift Every Voice, which is one of the largest churches on Chicago's south side. For years, my whole life was about going to church at least four times a week. I believe in worshipping God, but almost every day of my life can be a bit much. Nevertheless, my parents had been together thirty years, and I wanted the same thing and refused to settle for anything less. That's why me and Miasha's daddy weren't together. Speaking of Tyree, I reached inside my purse for my phone and sent him a text message. Daycare was due and he still hadn't given me his half. It didn't make any sense that every week I had to track his ass down just to get paid.
“Excuse me, miss, but how much longer before I get to see the doctor?”
I glanced up at this cute white guy with the prettiest light gray eyes and grinned. “Not sure. There are three people ahead of you. You just have to wait your turn.”
His eyes darkened with concern. “You don't understand, I need to see the doctor
now
. I've got to get home before my wife does.”
“Your wife?” I said, looking at Brenda out the corner of my eyes. “If anything, your wife should be down here with you.”
He looked at me like I was crazy. “Have you lost your mind? I'm not telling my wife about this. You know how many times she told me if I messed around I better not bring anything home? Well, that's why I'm here.” No. He was here because he didn't have enough respect for his wife to use a condom. “Listen . . . I've been avoiding my wife for two weeks, but tonight she's not taking no for any answer!”
Brenda moved up to the desk. “So what do you want us to do?”
He glanced over his shoulder and made sure no one was listening before saying, “Can I get a prescription, or better yet something I can give her while she's sleeping?”
“In her sleep? Dude, you going to have to talk to the doctor about that.” It disgusts me every time a married man comes up in here. If he had been home like he was supposed to be, then he wouldn't have to be at some free clinic getting a shot in his ass.
Most of the patients at our clinic were disgusting. Every evening I went home and took a hot shower like I was afraid I might catch something from this place. But I must say, getting a job at the clinic was the best thing that could have ever happened to me. It was an eye-opening experience that taught me to respect myself.
I was so happy when the last patient took his STD-carrying behind out the building. As soon as the door shut, I grabbed the bottle of Lysol and sprayed the lobby.
“That's not how you catch gonorrhea.” Gloria cackled as she moved to the front office.
I rolled my eyes toward the ceiling. “Whatever, I'm not taking any chances.” As fast as STDs were spreading around the city, you would have thought it was the flu.
“Have you seen Pierre?”
I took in her big bubble brown eyes, small nose, and thick painted lips. At five-eight, she could have been cute if she wasn't so damn skinny. “Yeah, he said he'll be waiting out front.”
“Thanks. That man is sooo good to me.” She grinned like her man was really all that, then swung her purse over her shoulder. “I'll see you tomorrow.”
I watched her leave, hoping she contracted something a shot in the ass couldn't cure. I used to feel sorry for Gloria, but not anymore. She's one of those women who's looking for love in all the wrong places, and sleeping with any man who looked in her direction. That chick was in love if her date treated her to dinner and a movie. Seriously, Gloria's been with more men than I can count, and I'd only been working at the clinic almost two years. I watched her leave and shook my head. She was the epitome of everything I never wanted to be.
I took the 95th Street bus to Halsted, then walked to my parents' house. Pappa hated me being out on the streets at night. I agree. The neighborhood was nothing like it was when I was a kid. Drugs and crime were everywhere. But I didn't have a car. Not anymore. The one I had broke down a month ago. Engine locked up. No oil. Can you believe that shit? I guess I should have asked someone what that knocking sound was. Luckily for me, my job was barely three miles from my apartment.
I stayed long enough to talk to Mama and promised to pay my daycare bill on Friday when I got paid. I was sick of having to make promises I couldn't keep. If Tyree would take care of his responsibility, I wouldn't have that problem. He thought since my mother was watching her granddaughter, she shouldn't charge me. Business is business, but he wouldn't know anything about that.
My apartment was only two blocks up from my parents' house, but my father always insisted on taking us home when I worked late. I loved my father. We had always been close. I had three brothers, but I was his only little girl.
“I really wish you'd move back home with me and your mother. I hate that you don't have a car,” he said when we were a block from his house. I'd been hearing the same thing for almost a month.
“I'll buy another car in September.” I was waiting to buy one when I got my student loan check.
“If you won't accept a gift, I could buy you one and you can pay me back?”
I looked over at my father with his golden brown face and fine salt-and-pepper hair. How I loved that man. “No thanks, Papa. You do too much as it is.”
“There is no such thing as doing too much for your kids. You remember that.” He pulled in front of my building and was putting the car in Park when I heard him growl, “What the hell is he doing here?” He then started muttering under his breath in Spanish. A Mexican immigrant, he had been raised to never speak his native language in America, but it was times like this he forgot. I knew who it was just by the look on my father's face. Only one person made Papa mad enough to cuss. I looked over at the door to my apartment building and there was Miasha's daddy standing out front smoking a cigarette. Tyree was obviously waiting for me.
“What does he want?” Daddy couldn't stand him ever since the day he had found out I was pregnant and Tyree refused to marry me.
I took a long breath before I reached for the door handle. “Who knows.”
“You want me to stay?”
I immediately shook my head. The last thing I wanted was for the two of them to get into it. I needed money, and making Tyree mad was not the way to get it. “No, Papa. Tyree's probably here to see Miasha.”
“She's asleep.”
“Then he can carry her up to bed.” I kissed his cheek, trying to smooth things over, then signaled for Tyree to come help. He put his cigarette out with his foot, then hustled over to my father's Buick.
“Good evening, Mr. Santiago.”
“Hello,” Papa mumbled, then watched as Tyree picked his granddaughter up from the back seat and carried her toward the building. I waved at my father, then hurried to open the door and climbed up to the second-floor apartment. While Tyree put Miasha to bed, I thumbed through my mail. Of course, there was a disconnection notice for my electricity and my house phone. I was so sick of living this way when I shouldn't have to.
For two years, I had been caught up in the excitement of being with a thug and believed all the bullshit he sent my way. Tyree used to have chicks calling my house, and some nights he didn't even come home at all. By the time I realized he was simply running game and was full of shit, I was already pregnant with Miasha. For my baby's sake, I tried to hang in there a while longer because I wanted my child to have a father around, the way I had, but things just went from bad to worse when one of his hoochies came onto my porch with her belly sticking out farther than mine.
“Yo, she's out like a log.”
I swung around and glared at him with a hand at my hip. “Tyree, what do you want?”
“Damn, can't I come and see my daughter?” he said on the defense.
“You know she goes to bed early.”
“Then maybe I came to see you.” He smiled at me, then looked longingly at my breasts. I immediately crossed my arms over my chest.
“To do what? Give me daycare money? I told you to take that by and give it to Mama.” I don't know why men were so hardheaded.
“Damn, I was busy. I thought I'd drop it off with you instead, if that's okay with you?” He reached inside his pocket and pulled out a wad of money. I rolled my eyes because he was always trying to floss. I don't give a damn how much money he has in his pocket if he doesn't have any intention of giving it to my daughter. He peeled off five twenties, then returned the rest to his pocket. He then gave me that look and took a step closer. At one time I was so desperate for money from him that I was willing to do whatever it took to get it . . . plus a little extra. Well, not anymore. Not since I started working at the clinic and decided to go to school and make a better life for me and my daughter. There was no way I was giving him some for money that was rightfully mine and Miasha's.

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