Always Wrong - Xyla Turner Page 0,35

Jacquez and even the baby. I began to mourn the little girl that everyone called Shirley. The one that was sitting on the steps waiting for my father to pick me up, but remained alone, because Mom was passed out from self-medication and the man never showed up.

There was always something off, I was different. It seemed that everything was crashing down on me at the same time. The knowledge that I could have a different father. Getting pregnant and losing the baby and now this proposal that I went along with despite my best judgment. It was something that I wanted. Maybe even more than anything, Jacquez probably saw that I was a desperate fool and wanted more than anything to a part of something. He’d played me. None of this was real.

My heart ached more and more as I began to think about it, but it was Maxine’s question that pulled me out of the trance. “Did you tell Jacquez?”

Shaking my head, I sniffed one time and tried to compose myself. “No.”

Maxine nodded her head as understanding began to morph across her features from my unspoken words. “Okay.” She rubbed my arms. “Okay. So we go and get a paternity test.”

I blinked back tears as I also understood her meaning of we. She planned to go with me. It almost caused me to laugh, and I dared not insult her to tell her she didn’t have to. She knew she didn’t, but she was my friend.

“Then you and Jacquez will have that baby, so I can have someone to spoil,” she added.

My head began to shake in the negative.

“No,” I told her. “I’m not sure about that. I think it was just a vulnerable time for me. I’m a fucking mess, and I damn sure don’t need to bring a baby into that shit.”

“That’s not true,” she corrected. “You’re one of the smartest people I know. We all have our emotional days and shit, but Sheryl South is not a mess. She don’t take a lot of mess, but she definitely isn’t one.”

“Maxine, I agreed to having a baby, buy a house, get dual citizenship in another country and move in with a man that I don’t even fucking know. He impregnated me. I am a gotdamn mess.”

At that statement, Maxine began to laugh. “Well, if you ask me, which you didn’t,” she began, “I think it’s more there than you’re saying, but what do I know?”

“More?” I questioned. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“What I said.” She narrowed her eyes at me. “What man wants to have a whole baby with a woman, move in with her, just to raise a child? Then he wants to make sure that you have dual citizenship in the country where he lives, and buy a house over there? You know who? Men that want something more. I’m going through the citizenship process right now. Want to know why? Because I am married to a man who has demonstrated that he wants this to work out. You and Jacquez are trying to literally have your cake and eat it too. That’s only going to last for so long. So y’all can keep fooling yourselves all you want. I just want someone to spoil. I have nine months to prepare, right?”

Her words sat on my chest like a ton of bricks. This was not the nonjudgmental Maxine. This was the analyzer in her, the master reviewer. She’d support me either way, but she was calling a spade a spade. What I did note, but did not address internally or out loud, was that she didn’t think he was trying to use me. She felt like we were both just kidding ourselves. This further meant that I had some things to think about.

We ended our sidewalk counseling session. It was a rare thing for me, to be honest, as I keep a tight lid on my emotions, which means they sometimes sneak out. On the sidewalk in the streets of Philadelphia.

Maxine was wrong about one thing.

I was a mess.

Chapter Twelve

Jacquez Costa

Sheryl had gone quiet after my last visit. She answered my calls, but said she had a meeting shortly after. None of these were scheduled on her calendar, which I could see. Then she would try to engage in text conversations, which annoyed the fuck out of me. I wanted to talk to her, and she kept texting me. I had heard her loud and clear about this notion of trying to alpha