The End of the Beginning

The end of the Beginning

“Hello can I speak to Keisha?” a hesitant voice on the phone asked.

“ um this is her…” I replied while grabbing my car keys, my lunch and scrambling out the door, I recognized the number from the doctors office, and the squeaky voice sounded only slightly familiar. I rolled my eyes it must be that new nurse that rubbed me the wrong way when I was in there last and they informed me I was somehow 11 weeks pregnant. The news of the pregnancy itself was depressing enough seeing that I had finally freed myself from the clutches of my ex and her cavalier persona didn’t sit well with me. Thinking back to our last encounter made me laugh in irony.. the baby had made me sick to my stomach the same way the thoughts of him did. I knew abortion wasn’t an option and with my career soaring adoption crossed my mind more than I wanted to admit. The flutters from feeling the first kicks always reminded me about the nervous butterfly feeling I got when I first met him.

I started my car and the phone call got cut short the moment the Bluetooth connected. I threw my lunch bag on the passenger seat next to my purse, and smiled at the fact that the lunch would be gone by 9:30a. I set the Spotify to 90s R&B. I shrugged my shoulders and figured she would call back with whatever she needed. I'm assuming she wanted me to schedule that dreaded glucose test, my stomach turned at just the thought of it based on the stories I had heard from my friends and coworkers. I was stuck at this stubborn red light for longer than I wanted to and the music forced me to recollect the night we conceived. I replayed that day constantly.

I was laying there sleeping and the alarm blared louder than normal almost like a warning, a premonition. I could hear the repetitive beeping that was once distant now getting closer and closer, what was that noise I thought while I continued to sleep.. Then it hit me, It’s the alarm! At this point the beeping was so loud. How many times had I hit snooze? before I could peel my eyes fully awake I thought out loud wait.. What time is it? I looked over at the fluorescent green light flickering from the digital alarm clock on the pressed wooden dresser. He had reserved the room, was in town for a week and asked to continue the heated conversation in his room because the yelling and crying at the dinner table was causing a scene according to the young pimple faced waiter. He knew what I needed to be calmed down, he knew he could make my face wet with tears and make my canal wet with pleasure. Don’t do it sis, is what my best friends text message read on the lock screen of my phone before I set it on the charger. She hated him and I loved her for her loyalty. I had set the alarm just in case shaking legs from the multiple orgasms left me unable to drive, I set it because I knew after I let him in physically, he would take over me mentally and I would want to stay, cuddle, kiss on him and use making love to feel loved. I told myself I wasn’t staying but my body and mind knew that I wanted to

Why do we keep doing this I wondered while I gathered my dignity along with my panties that had slid halfway under the king size bed. Same story. Same ending. Some kind of real life groundhog day that never ends, and each time we mistakenly fall back in each others trap we are forced to re live out the saga that was once us but will never be again. It’s a punishment, and I’m punishing myself because the man I want, the man I need, will never be the man I have been cursed to love. I need out of the cycle I tell myself each time. But how can he take me serious when I don’t take myself serious. I tell him I hate him and somehow a conversation that is supposed to be for closure always end up with me opening my legs. Each stroke so intense he fills my body physically while filling my mind with words of hope. I’m trapped in his arms, tangled in his lies, and have surrendered yet again to my temptations

Im looking at myself in the bathroom mirror starring and brushing my teeth while the shower warms up.. the beating of the water against the shower curtain is melodic and Im thinking of better times between us, I’m so lost in my thoughts and my guilt that I don’t hear him sneak up behind me.. he wraps one hand across my breast and slowly guides the other hand down the small of my back to the front of my thigh. Please stay he begs. and I can feel his manhood stiffen up more in excitement. He is so rock hard but bouncing stiff in excitement, like a diving board and before I can consent, he is ready to plunge into my pool. He groaned and mumbled at my reaction of needing to get home, He offers to shower with me but I decline telling myself that I’m gaining my power back. I finish getting ready and attempt to exit the bathroom door, he stands in the doorway and I’m facing him the small hotel towel barely covers the front of my voluptuous frame. He gets on his knees while raising my right leg above his shoulder. He kisses her deep and brings me almost instantly to a climax, I push his head away and I look at him, he opens his eyes and smiled at me, and asked me for a kiss and a round three. Why was I here? Why do I always do this to myself…? My body hurts, sorer rather from the intimacy from the night before but my heart hurt from the disappointment in my actions. I smiled at the flashback of him last night so deep inside my walls, while whispering so deep inside my ear that he spoke directly to my heart about how much he loved me and you know what? I loved him. I hated him but I loved him. I loved the way he knew me, he knew my body, he knew my weakness, for him. We make our way back to the bed and the green light from the alarm clock glows brightly almost as a reminder that this time has to be the last time between us, our time is up.. or so I thought then.

The car horn behind me blares, catapulting me from the memory.. how long had I been sitting at this greenlight. The pregnancy had my mind more scattered than before. The doctors office calling again interrupts my music, and my thoughts. What the fuck does she want? She has nothing better to do that to keep calling me? I see she has left a message. I try not to read the voice to text across the screen asking for a call back.

“Hello” I express annoyed to the receptionist “Can you transfer me to Dr. Johnsons nurse please?”

She sounded a little too chipper for so early in the morning.

“Yepper depper” she replied. They clearly hadn’t trained her on proper phone etiquette.

“Keisha?” The nurse asked the moment she picked up the phone

“ Its me” I rolled my eyes again, I didn’t like her, well honestly Pregnancy had made me not like anybody.

“ Do you have a minute?” she asked

“ Yes…” Now I was worried.. “Is everything ok with my baby?” suddenly my motherly instincts kicked in and I grabbed my barely protruding stomach that had already gained a black line down the middle and one stretchmark along the right side. at the same time the baby kicked me. I hadn’t even come up with a name for him/ her or whatever. The whole experience was not only new, but also unexpected. Being older than most 1st time moms had already skyrocketed me into the high risk category.

“ Can you come into our office”

I swallowed the lump in my throat the way I should have swallowed the plan B months ago.

“ Now?” I stuttered

“Whenever you get a chance” she paused and stated

I texted my boss to say I was running late and the 7 min drive now seemed to last 30 min. I couldn’t even feel myself pulling into the parking lot. I don’t remember grabbing my mask hanging from the visor, nor do I remember walking down the long-carpeted corridor or checking in with the receptionist.

The nurse and the doctor both walked in, my medical manila folder in his hand.

I already knew this couldn’t be good news. Dr. Johnson adjusted his tie and sat on the round stool to make himself eye level with me. The squeaky wheels from the stool partially gliding across the linoleum floor made this more awkward because that’s all that could be heard in-between him clearing his throat. She looked at him. I looked at them. She greeted me. I forced a half smile. Ugh, I still didn’t like her.

“ Ok I do still have to get to work this morning” I explained

‘Keisha.. Let me start by saying there is many..”

“ MANY WHAT?” I exclaimed louder than what I wanted to, at the same time, The baby kicked again and I felt sick, sicker than what I felt when I had morning sick thinking it was the flu before I knew I was pregnant just a couple short weeks ago. Sicker than when Bobby Crawford gave me chicken pox in 3rd grade. My life was flashing by me, every memory. The green LED light from the cheap Christmas display decoration on the counter flashed off and on.

He cleared his throat again. And she came closer to me “ Many options to delivering healthy and living a healthy life with HIV”