“You devil,” May cried, pounding her fists into Jr so hard that I could hear it when each one landed.
“Get off my man,” Kim yelled, pulling at my hair.
And I had one arm around May’s belly to try to get her up and another swinging at Kim. And then, just when we all got tired enough, I heard a little voice calling from the door.
“Mommy! Daddy!”
We all froze and looked up. Inside the frame of the door was a little boy, red as Jr, standing there, holding a little blue blanket.
“Jr,” Kim said. She hopped off me and ran toward him, fixing her clothes along the way.
My stomach flipped and turned as I struggled to get up. I felt light-headed. Like this was all too much for me. I needed my mother there. My father. Somebody to carry some of this. It was simply too much. And I couldn’t imagine what May must’ve been thinking and feeling at that point.
Jr ran over to the boy and Kim and got on his knees.
“Why did you get out of bed, buddy?” he asked the boy, who couldn’t have been more than three years old.
“I heard screaming,” he said, and I stepped over just enough to see that he had my mother’s honey-colored eyes.
“Hi,” he said softly, waving with his little fingers curled a bit.
“Baby,” Kim said, “this is the nice woman we always see at the church sitting near Daddy. She came over to say hi to us.”
I turned to see May looking at the boy. Heartbreak was spilling out of her eyes. I could see her chest sinking in.
“This is your son?” She looked at Jr with clear contempt, hate in her eyes. “The son you wanted.... The son you made me ruin my body for? This is your son?”
“Come on, Jr,” Kim said, picking the little boy up and walking into the house. As they headed down the hallway in the direction of my old bedroom, I watched as the boy’s blanket hit the floor and he waved at me one last time.
“How could you do this?” May asked. “I haven’t done anything to you. This is evil, Jr. Evil.”
The light came on next door and I saw Mrs. Matthews, who’d lived next door to us all my life, come outside.
“You kids okay?” she asked.
“Everything’s fine,” Jr said. “Just had an emergency with the tenant.”
“Hmm,” she muttered, but it was apparent she knew what had been going on over at the house. I wondered how many other people on the block, at church, in town, had seen Jr’s car there and knew what was going on.
“Look, it’s clear you two have a lot to talk about,” I said. “But this isn’t the place for it. Mrs. Matthews is probably calling Mama right now.”
“Let’s go,” May said sadly. “There’s nothing here for me.”
Every light was on in the house. They shone bright and rude in the middle of the night and I could see them before I even turned onto the driveway in May’s car. They looked angry. Almost accusatory. And as May and I parked and walked to the front door, I felt like a teenager returning home to her father after sneaking out.
“Where have you been?” Evan said, pulling the door open with my key still in it. He had on the slacks he’d worn to work that morning, shoes, and his undershirt. His face was bright red. “I’ve been—” he charged, but then he looked at May, who was st
anding behind me and then back at me. “What’s going on?”
“May and Jr had a fight,” I said.
“But I’ve been calling you all night.” He held up his cell phone. “Why didn’t you answer?”
“Evan, I apologize,” May said softly. “She was just trying to help me. Jethro and I had a fight and luckily Journey was there to help. We’re—” May’s voice waned and she lowered her head.
“Look, let me get her situated in the guest room and I’ll come and talk to you,” I tried, both wanting to comfort May and needing more time to think of what I was going to say to Evan. I knew he’d have more questions and I didn’t want to lie to him. I hadn’t done anything wrong. But I knew that at 3 a.m., the little I said would be acceptable. Even with May there.
Evan closed the door behind us and I patted May’s back as we walked slowly to the guest room. She was quiet, but I could tell by how she moved her lips, she was already praying.