“Money! I’m not giving you no money. You better go ask your boyfriend Jordan.”
“I would, but I’m not with Jordan anymore. He kicked me out when he found out I was pregnant. So I need some money to get a hotel room if I can’t stay here. I’m also gonna need some money for an apartment.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I knew Jordan was a lowlife, but this was worse than even I expected of him.
“You’re carrying his child and he put you out on the street?”
“No, Dylan. I’m not carrying his child.” Monica spoke as if she were explaining something to a first-grader. “He kicked me out because I’m pregnant with your child.” I could feel Jasmine’s fingers wiggling free from my hand.
“What do you mean, my child?” I took a step back and eyed her from head to toe. She didn’t look like she was pregnant, but even if she was, it couldn’t be mine. Could it? “How can I be the father? I haven’t slept with you in five months,” I protested.
“Gee, what a coincidence. I just happen to be five months pregnant.” Monica didn’t even look at me, but she gave Jasmine a nasty smile.
“Well, maybe it’s Jordan’s baby,” I shot back. “Ain’t no way for me to be sure you wasn’t sleepin’ with both of us back then.”
“I doubt it. He had a vasectomy five years ago. That’s why he kicked me out. He can’t have kids.”
“Well, who else were you messing with?” Now I was grasping at straws.
“Don’t play yourself, Dylan. It’s your baby. And if you don’t believe it, you can have a blood test.” She folded her arms across her chest, but then her tone softened a bit. “Look, I could’ve gotten rid of this baby. But I remembered how much you love kids and wanted to be a parent. I didn’t wanna deprive you of a chance at fatherhood.”
Maybe it was her tone of voice, or the fact that she volunteered to let me have a blood test, but I believed that baby she was carrying was mine. All of a sudden, a flood of emotions came over me. A flood of electrifying, positive emotions.
“Oh, my God. I’m gonna be a dad. I’m gonna be a dad!” I kept repeating.
I jumped up in the air and I felt like I could fly. In my euphoria, I turned to Jasmine and repeated the words again with even more enthusiasm.
“I’m gonna be a dad!” She took a step back to avoid my attempted embrace. Her icy-cold stare made it obvious she was not ready to share in my excitement. So instinctively I reached out and wrapped my arms around Monica, kissing her right on the lips.
“Oh, no, you didn’t! No, you didn’t just fucking kiss her.” Jasmine’s shout snapped me back to reality. But by the time I let go of Monica, she was already halfway up the stairs, yelling more obscenities. I had really fucked up, and Monica’s next comment summed it all up perfectly.
“Uh-oh, Dylan. Looks like trouble in paradise.”
“Shut the fuck up, Monica,” I spat, glaring at her.
It took me a few minutes to gather enough courage to follow Jasmine up the stairs. It wasn’t that I didn’t wanna talk to her; I just didn’t know what the hell I was gonna say. I left Monica standing in the living room. Of course she protested, tellin’ me I didn’t need “that bitch” making my decisions for me, but fixing things with Jasmine was my first concern. Monica and her mess would have to wait. I’d be dealing with her for the next eighteen years.
When I got to my room, Jasmine was fully dressed, tossing all the trappings of our romantic evening into a small black duffel bag. All that was left to remind me now was the wax that had dripped from the candles onto my nightstand.
“Jazz? Jasmine?” I called, but she didn’t answer me. I stepped in front of her, hoping to at least make eye contact. I wanted to explain, to get back some of the closeness we’d felt just minutes before. But she never even glanced my way. Out of frustration, I grabbed her arm.
“Jasmine, you gotta listen to me. This is all-”
“Get off me!” Even if I’d wanted to hold on, I couldn’t. She slapped me so hard across the face, I had to take a few steps back, and I let her go.
“Don’t you fucking touch me, you bastard!” she yelled. “How could you do this shit to me? I was ready to give up everything for you!”
Her expression was a mixture of ferocious anger and genuine hurt. I wanted to say something to her, to make her understand I felt just as strongly about her. But for a man who always has something to say, I was speechless. Monica’s announcement had totally floored me, and I could barely think straight to make my next move. All I could do was watch Jasmine pick up that duffel bag and head for the stairs.
“Jasmine, where are you going? Please don’t leave,” I pleaded.
“I’m going to Roanoke to be with a man who really cares about me. It’s pretty obvious you don’t.” Her words cut me.
“That’s not true. I do care, Jasmine. This is all just a misunderstanding.”
“You know what, Dylan? You can save that ‘misunderstanding’ crap for your baby’s momma. I know what I saw. That shit wasn’t no optical illusion. You kissed that bitch!”
“Yeah, okay. You’re right. I did kiss her. But it wasn’t a kiss of passion.” I pleaded with her to understand. “I was just excited by the news, is all. There was nothing sexual about it.”
“You expect me to believe that shit? You were going with that woman for six years. Anything you two do has to be sexual in some way.” She moved toward the door, but I tried to block her exit.
“If you don’t let me out, I swear we’re gonna be fightin’ up here.” She tried to shove her way past.
“So that’s it?” I sighed. “You’re just gonna forget about us?”
“What do you want me to do, Dylan? Go downstairs and sit down so the three of us can talk about raising the baby? We ain’t got nothing to talk about.” She started to cry. “She’s having your baby, Dylan. I can’t compete with that. Shit, I don’t wanna compete with that. I know how much you want a child.”
“Why do you have to compete, Jasmine? Why can’t you be a part of it?”
“You just don’t get it, do you?” She let out a faint laugh.
“What?”
“If you had to choose between Monica and the baby or being with me, which would it be?” I hesitated, and she folded her arms across her chest like she’d just made her point.
“Why can’t I pick the baby and you? Monica doesn’t have to be part of the equation.”
“What are you, stupid? Monica comes with the baby. You can’t get around it. Trust me, I’ve tried.”
“But I don’t love her, Jasmine. I love you.” I thought these words might help, but she seemed unfazed.
“Oh, you love her. You may not want to, but you love her. And you’ll love her even more once she has that baby. That’s just the way you are, Dylan.”
“I don’t believe that. If we care about each other, we should be together. Can’t we just look at this like a minor setback? We were just starting out.”
“Maybe that’s the point, Dylan.”
“What’s the point?”
“Have you ever heard of kismet?”
“Yeah, it’s like fate or destiny.” She had me totally confused now.
“Well, I’m starting to believe that your destiny is to raise a child with Monica and my fate is to be with Derrick. Maybe it was kismet that she showed up here tonight before we could really do anything.” She took a step toward the door, and I sadly let her pass.
“I’m not mad at you, Dylan. I just wish I hadn’t taken a chance on you.”
I was about to protest, but she raised her hand and headed down the stairs. When she reached the front door, she glanced over at Monica, who was on the couch, all spread out like she owned the place.
“You leaving?” Monica gave a satisfied smirk.
“Yeah, I’m leaving. He’s all yours.”