Page 38 of Merci
Cujo sighed. “What if? Either way, you know how I am when it comes down to feelings and emotions and shit. It’s been over a month. If she wanted to talk to me, she could have reached out, and I would have tried my hardest to convince her of my intentions. I ain’t gon’ chase her, though.”
My head shook. “Aight, Jojo. I feel like you’re using this as an excuse to cut her and your feelings for her off, but do yo’ thang, big brother.”
He stared at me with squinted eyes and his top lip curled before he mumbled, “Fuck you, nigga,” and I couldn’t help but laugh, because he knew I was right.
“Call that girl.”
“Aight, aight,” he agreed before getting in his car.
I cruised home, listening to music and thinking about how differently life had changed for us all in a short amount of time. My mama had a freedom I’d never seen her walk in, in my wholelife. My brother was acting like the Grinch but had finally let a woman into his heart—whether he wanted to or not. And I was madly in love with a woman the world would say I had no business being with.
When I walked into my home and didn’t smell food, it was like déjà vu. Even though I’d already eaten, I expected Merci to have at least cooked something for herself. I took the stairs by two in search of my baby, and I found her curled up in bed in a fetal position. Concern filled me immediately as I walked over to her. Kneeling by the trash can on the side of the bed, I ran my fingers over her braids as I looked her face over intently.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
“I don’t feel good,” she whined.
“What’s hurting you?”
“My stomach. I threw up.” Her face twisted in disgust, and I had to hold back my laugh. Merci hated being sick in any way, but she especially hated throwing up. “I had chills too, and I’m weak. I think I ate something bad.”
“What all have you had to eat today?”
“Just that smoothie and Waffle House for breakfast. After that I got sick, and I haven’t tried to eat again.”
“Hmm.” I used the back of my hand to check her temperature, and she didn’t have a fever. “Have you taken anything?”
“Just some ginger to see if it would settle my stomach.”
“And it worked?”
“For the most part. I haven’t gagged in a while, so I guess so. I probably won’t know until I try to eat again, but I don’t want to.”
“I understand, but you need to put something on your stomach so you won’t feel as weak. Some ginger ale and maybe toast, rice, or apple sauce. Crackers?”
Her head shook at everything I said, so I told her to give me a minute, and I’d get in bed with her. I showered as quickly as Icould, then cuddled up behind her. As I rubbed her stomach, she told me to tell her about my day.
“Why you ain’t call me and tell me you weren’t feeling good? I would’ve come home earlier,” I said instead.
“I’m sure I just ate something bad. I just don’t know what.”
“Your stomach really ain’t sensitive like that, though, Ms. Merci. I don’t think it’s something you ate.”
“What do you think it is? It’s not cold enough outside for me to be getting the flu.”
I thought about the options and the fact that I’d been fucking her raw for months now. I couldn’t stop myself from grinning just at the possibility of her being pregnant. My caressing of her stomach stopped, and I held it as I said, “You could be pregnant.”
Her body froze before she sat up and looked down at me. She lifted the comforter and covered herself as if I hadn’t seen her body a million times before.
“The fuck?”
Laughing, I sat up and leaned against the headboard next to her.
“Merci—”
“How can you say that? That’s nothing to play about, Hammer. I can’t be pregnant.”
“You can, actually,” I said, licking my lips and trying to hide my smile. “I’ve never used a condom, sweetheart. When was your last period?” Confusion covered her face as she looked toward the ceiling. “This month? Last month? If you have to think that hard, it’s clearly been a while.”
