And Then There Was Me Read online

  Time had gotten away from her and Bea hustled to get ready. Usually she styled her hair up but since she was going to the school with Lonnie she untangled her curls and brushed it down below her shoulders. Long and loose was the way he loved it and Bea worked with what she had to look good beside him. She was searching for her car keys when her phone dinged with a text message.

  Sorry honey but you will have to go without me. Office is crazy today. Take pics and give Chico my love.

  Bea blew out her breath, remembering the earring and wondering if his excuse was true. Anger rose in her throat but she swallowed it back. She never felt comfortable at school functions without her husband. Most of the people in Evergreen had grown their families together from infancy. Their children had all gone to the same preschools and met at the playground long before Bea’s family had moved onto the scene. Often she felt like a little girl with her face pressed against the glass, always on the periphery, always begging to be let in to the mothers’ social club.

  She did her best to fit the mold by never venturing to the school in the crumpled sweats she found at the bottom of the bed, instead wearing the spandex that seemed to be the suburban mom’s uniform. It was the look that suggested that you were either on your way to the gym or on your way back. Or if not that look, then blue jeans.

  Chico’s classroom was on the third floor and Bea had to rest at the top of each landing. Knee problems had been another plague of this pregnancy, and she stretched them a little before continuing down the hall to his classroom on the right. The baby was up, moving and stretching in her lower abdomen, and Bea kept her hand on her belly as she entered the classroom. Several parents were already walking around the room. She spotted Chico and winked at him.

  “Hey, Ma.”

  “’Sup, son.” She giggled, and to her surprise her son laughed too.

  “How’s your day going?”

  “Good. My desk is over here.”

  More parents had entered and were drifting around the room, listening to the kids’ presentations. As Chico explained the effect gravity has on plant growth, two moms Bea had never seen approached his desk to listen. Even though Bea had helped him with the project, she was proud of how in the end he had taken control.

  “Very nice. It’s Alonzo, right?” said the mom with the brown braid and green eyes.

  “Yes, ma’am,” replied Chico. Bea beamed at his manners.

  “Awesome, great job,” clapped the second mother, waving her diamond absently in the air. “When are you due?” She turned to Bea.

  “First week of August.”

  “Alonzo, are you excited about your new sibling?”

  “It’s not our baby,” he replied drily, then ran off to catch his buddy at the next table.

  The two mothers looked at Bea.

  “I’m a surrogate—”

  “Ah,” interrupted the green-eyed mother. “Well, this town is pricey. My property taxes went up again. It’s a small fortune.”

  Bea’s temples tingled. “I am helping my husband’s cousin who can’t carry. I believe that every woman should be a mother if she desires it.”

  The woman who’d made the comment started choking, like she had a fish bone stuck in her windpipe. “Excuse me.” She coughed. “These allergies are killing me.”

  “You are just incredible to do something like that,” said the mother who’d been waving her ring. “What a saint.”

  They walked away quickly, and Bea stared at Chico’s project, trying to regain her composure. Perspiration broke out across her forehead. To suggest that she was selling her body to pay her taxes was the craziest, most inappropriate thing she had ever heard in her life. Everyone was usually on their best behavior at these functions. Pretending that they were all the same, avoiding topics that could possibly offend. How dare they? Bea stood having a two-sided conversation in her head of what she should have said. Damn Lonnie for not being by her side. All of a sudden the heaviness of her day made her drowsy. Her eyes darted across the room, looking for a chair to plop down into.

  “Hey there.”

  Bea had just lowered herself onto a hard seat near the window. It was Tyler’s mother, Camille. Tyler and Chico were on the same baseball team, so she and Camille often chatted in the stands. Also a transplant, Camille had moved to Evergreen from Delaware a year before Bea. She was one of the few mothers that Bea had connected with in Chico’s grade. Bea was sure that she had been voted prom queen in high school. Camille gave off that vibe: pretty, bubbly, popular, and sweet.

  “Hey, Camille.”

  “What’s wrong? That little baby acting up in there?”

  “She’s been busy today.” Bea’s hand dropped to her belly, happy to change the channel.

  “How’s her mother doing?”

  “Anxious and excited.”

  “It must be a blessing to have someone carry a baby for you. But I can see the anxiety too. She must worry you to death wanting to know your every move.”

  Bea wished that she could get up and make eye contact with Camille, but the magnitude of her day kept her glued to her spot.

  “She called me today freaking out but I get it.”

  Camille tossed her ponytail. “I’m so glad the school year is coming to an end.”

  “Me too. Looking forward to no rules and no homework.”

  “What are you doing for camp?”

  They chatted a bit more. Bea needed to get going or she would be late picking up Alana.

  “Coming to the game tomorrow night?”

  “Yeah, I’ll be there.” Bea waved to Camille and went looking for Chico. When she got to the parking lot, she raked her fingers through her hair, raveled it up, and pinned it into a bun. The diamond-waving mother walked up beside her.

  “Don’t mind my friend. She’s a loudmouth from Brooklyn with no filter. It’s amazing what you’re doing? Honestly, I’d never have the heart.”

  Bea smiled curtly and dismissed the woman with a turn of her shoulder, ushering Chico into the backseat of the SUV. It was hard to figure out what bothered her most. The fact that the mother had said it, or her friend’s acknowledgment that it was insulting. As soon as she was behind the wheel, she fished her phone out of her pocket and texted Lonnie.

  * * *

  Word on the street is that I’m carrying Mena’s baby to help pay the taxes on our house.

  Who said that???

  She knew that would hit a nerve.

  Two moms at Chico’s science fair.

  What?

  Would have been nice if you had been there.

  I know, sorry babe. Work is crazy. How’s my boy?

  Fine.

  Love you.

  Whatever.

  Bea dropped her phone into her bag and didn’t respond. The conversation would have been a lot different had he been by her side, she was sure of it.

  She survived the after-school snack rush and Alana’s meltdown over Bea erasing her spelling homework and making her do it over. Dinner was simple. Costco’s breaded tilapia, boxed mashed potatoes, and frozen peas. When Alana cried about taking a bath, she left Chico to reason with her. Bea needed some sleep. That was the only thing that would completely hit the reset button and give her a clear head for a fresh start. When the kids went down, she covered Lonnie’s food, put it in the microwave, and went to bed right behind them.

  FOUR

  Fresh Air

  Lonnie came in long after Bea was in bed and was up and out of the house before she got up. She got the kids off to school and then fished around the refrigerator, throwing out some of the food she’d been tempted by a few days ago and noting what she needed to replenish. Her relationship with food had shifted back to neutral, and as she worked, she whispered her affirmation. “I am providing fuel and sustenance for my body so Mena’s baby can grow.” For breakfast, she boiled two eggs to go with a slice of dry wheat toast while jotting down her grocery list.

  It was the second Wednesday of the month, the day she picked Awilda
up from work during her lunch hour so they could go to the open-air market located a few blocks from the middle school where Awilda worked. The membership belonged to Bea but she insisted that Awilda come along to shop for healthy foods for Derrick. It also gave them guaranteed time together without the interruption of their families. Bea stuck her head out of the driver’s side window of her minivan and waved as Awilda walked up.

  “What kind of school are you teaching dressed like that?”

  Awilda stopped with her hands on her hips. She had on a yellow fitted dress that hugged all of her curves. A wide, black patent belt and high wedges. “Look, I’ve got to keep the job interesting. You should see the ducks I work with.”

  “You look like a bumblebee.”

  “Correction. I look like the queen bee.” Awilda opened the door.

  “Get in the car.”

  Bea pulled away from the school. Her radio was off but Awilda turned it on as soon as she slid her butt into the seat.

  “How can you drive around in silence?”

  “Gives me time to think.”

  “That’s your problem, Bea. You spend too much time in your head. Girl, just do it.”

  “What are you, a Nike commercial?”

  Awilda let down her window. “It feels good to be outside. That school is so stifling.”

  “Where were you last night? I called.”

  “The gym. Trying to blow off steam before you see me on the news for murdering my husband.”

  “What happened?”

  “He’s a liar.”

  Bea’s tires grumbled against the gravel as she pulled into the parking lot of the market. Awilda recounted the story of running into one of Derrick’s work buddies at the gas station on their way home from Spring Lake.

  “The guy was like, ‘D, how are things working out? You managed to find something else? Crazy how they let you go over that bullshit.’”

  “Let him go from work?”

  Awilda looked at her as if to say, can you believe it? “Imagine my face. This fool has been pretending to go to work for the past three weeks. Ain’t that some shit?”

  Bea turned the car off and tilted her head toward Awilda. A man’s pride was everything and this MS was testing Derrick’s.

  “Sis.”

  “Don’t take up for him.” She sucked her teeth. “Had me breaking my neck packing his lunch every day. I should have known something was up when I came home on my lunch break to use the bathroom and he was sitting on the couch. Talking about how they let him go early because his hands had been shaking.”

  They got out of the car and Bea looped her arm through Awilda’s.

  “Why lie?” Awilda asked.

  “He didn’t want to disappoint you. Everyone in New Jersey can see how badly you wanted off this summer. He didn’t want to let you down. He probably thought he could find something to tie him over.”

  They walked into the market and each grabbed a handheld basket.

  “Well, that didn’t happen and now I am working summer school in the straight-up hood. Everything in the easier districts has been filled since February. I can kiss Devinee good-bye.”

  “What?”

  “Divine. Spelled with three e’s. The name of my clothing line. Devinee, heaven-sent to make a woman feel like an angel.” Awilda made wings with her hands and Bea burst out laughing.

  “Okay. I’m still working on the jingle but you catch my drift.”

  “I get it.” Bea stopped in front of a table filled with green vegetables. She could literally feel her heartbeat slow down at the sight of the goodness. She dropped bunches of asparagus, cucumbers, cilantro, and mixed peppers into her basket.

  “I don’t know why I keep shopping at this high ass co-op with you when Derrick’s not getting any better. He doesn’t even eat what I buy.” Awilda held a bunch of mint to her nose.

  “Cut the man some slack. This thing is tough on him.”

  “I’m trying, Bea, I really am. But if I find one more McDonald’s wrapper in the garbage, I’m going to cut him. What grown man still eats that junk?”

  Bea rubbed her stomach, suddenly craving a Quarter Pounder with Cheese. She hadn’t had Mickey D’s in months. Fast food was number one on her list to avoid. It made her feel gross and when she felt gross she wanted to throw up. But damn the thought was comforting. Salty fries. Plenty of ketchup …

  “Amare’s getting ready to go to my parents’ house for a couple of weeks. I wish I could drop Derrick’s ass off too. That would be a real break.”

  “Well at least it was a lie about work.”

  Awilda stopped.

  “I found an earring in your boy’s laundry.”

  “Shut up.”

  “I’d take MS over him fucking other women any day. At least what’s going on with Derrick is not his fault.”

  “Whoa, Bea. I can’t remember the last time I heard you cuss.”

  There was a bench near the fresh-squeezed-lemonade stand and Awilda pulled Bea over onto the seat.

  “What can I do?”

  “What else is there to do? I haven’t even had a chance to confront him yet. He came in late and left early.”

  “Shit like this makes me wish I never introduced you.” Awilda and Lonnie had gone to high school together. When Bea ended up at Rowan College a year after Lonnie, Awilda connected them to each other.

  “Stop, Wilde.”

  “Bea, you’re pregnant! This ain’t right.”

  “I’m trying not to jump to conclusions before I talk to him.”

  “You want a lemonade?”

  Bea nodded. Awilda bought two drinks and a soft pretzel. She broke off a piece of pretzel and handed it to Bea.

  “So what are you going to do?”

  Bea sipped and shrugged her shoulders. The sweetness of the agave and the tartness of the lemon went straight to her head. “My life is exhausting. Do you know yesterday at the science fair this mother basically assumed I was a surrogate to help pay the taxes on my damn house?”

  “Don’t know what to say out their damn mouth.”

  “The nerve, right?”

  “Well, let me know if I need to come up to that school and beat a bitch down. You know I will for you.”

  “I know.” Bea smiled.

  “Do or die. Thick or thin. Awilda and Beasley to the very end,” Awilda chanted and they high-fived.

  “Help me up.”

  “Yeah, I better finish my shopping before I get back late. You know me and the assistant principal had words last week?”

  “What happened?”

  Awilda yapped on about what had happened at her job, then moved on to her plans to drive Amare down to her mother’s house in North Plainfield for his summer AAU basketball camp. The good thing about being with Awilda was that Bea knew her inside and out. Most times she could even finish her sentences. Awilda talked so much about the same stuff that Bea could get away with half listening and not miss a beat.

  * * *

  Bea dropped Awilda off at school. She unpacked her groceries and prepped dinner: lemon pepper chicken, asparagus, tomato salad, and basmati rice. Needing a breather, she sat at the kitchen island and munched on a handful of blueberries. The berries were perfect and plump and she couldn’t get enough. She always had to remind herself that even though fruit was healthy she couldn’t get into the habit of overeating that either. Making herself stop at two handfuls, she grabbed the rest of the box and put it in the freezer for Alana’s after-school snack. Alana loved frozen blueberries and having something that would make her daughter smile made Bea feel happy. She grinned, picturing the look that would cross Alana’s cute face, while separating the bills from the junk mail. The last envelope was addressed to Lonnie with feminine, curvy handwriting.

  His Miami vice. Bea knew the return address by heart because she was the one who signed and mailed the check to her every month. Bea slipped her finger under the envelope’s seal and yanked it open.

  Dear Alonzo,

  There
has been a string of terrible incidents of violence at the school and it is making it hard for Alonzo to learn and be successful. I’m writing because I need an increase in child support for private school for our son. We both know how important the proper education is for him. Here is the school’s brochure. Please take a look and get back to me. I would like to move him by September.

  Yours in parenting,

  Connie

  Yours in parenting, give me a break, Bea thought. A school photo of the little boy beaming, missing his two front teeth, slipped out of the envelope. Bea felt a tightening in her chest as she pulled the picture closer. He could be one of her children; he looked so much like her own son. On the back of the photo was scribbled:

  Alonzo Perez-Colon age 6.

  Six years had passed since she’d found out about the boy in Miami. Lonnie and Bea were living in D.C., settled into the house she loved. Six months pregnant with Alana, Bea had done well with controlling her bulimia. Dr. Spellman had made Bea confess the disorder to her attending doctor, who agreed not to bring up the disorder in front of her husband. Alana’s room was almost ready for her arrival and Bea was in there sorting baby blankets and towels when the phone rang.

  “Woman to woman I thought it best for you to know.” She had an accent. Bea pictured her as an island pageant queen with long, black hair, eggplant-colored toenails, slim waist, and lots of cleavage. Lonnie usually slept with white women so this accented chick was a change in his repertoire.

  “I don’t believe you,” Bea told her and hung up with shaky palms. She thought that would be the end of it but the next day a FedEx package arrived. It was the results of the DNA test that Miami vice had ordered. She had swabbed Lonnie’s toothbrush on his last visit: 99.9 percent. The three-week-old baby was her husband’s. Bea threw up her lunch all over the kitchen floor. And then she ate everything that she could get her hands on. Then threw up again. The rage. The injustice. The humiliation.

  The proof of paternity changed Bea. The stress of it made it easy for the bulimia to take over her life. She couldn’t control Lonnie but she could control what came in and out of her body. Bea wasn’t focused at work, couldn’t take care of Chico (thank God for day care), and she stopped washing her hair. Half the time when she dressed in her scrubs she couldn’t remember if they were clean or dirty. During the day, she spent her entire time planning her next binge: where she would eat, how she would get rid of it without anyone knowing. Every afternoon, she slid through the McDonald’s drive thru and ordered two or three Quarter Pounders. She’d wolf it down and then throw up in the bag the food came in. Disposing of her secret before she even left the parking lot.