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Authors: Candice Dow

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BOOK: Feelin' the Vibe
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She whispered promises in my ear, and I did the same. Ours lips were glued together and her arms wrapped tightly around my
neck. The cool, still water floating around us made me want to stay inside her warm pussy forever. And I nearly did, as it
felt like hours passed before I came. She came several times and, finally, we walked out of the water exhausted and fell asleep
on the sand.

36

CLARK

B
y the third day in Nicaragua, I was tempted to build a little hut and run away from it all, just Devin and me. We could leave
it all behind for the peace and tranquility of this small island. We’d been just going to the outreach center and to the beach
every day. There were no “bright lights, big city” to distract us from each other. All we heard was each other, and most nights
we didn’t even turn the television on. We loved each other in the rarest form.

As usual, we headed to the clinic after I had my morning coffee. Our driver pulled up at nine o’clock on the dot, and we hopped
in the late ’90s model Toyota Corolla. The air conditioner blew warm air, and the back window handles were broken. Devin and
I both were soaked by the time we arrived, but we giggled the whole ride for no reason.

When we got out of the car, we heard a piercing yell escaping the house. Devin and I looked at each other and instinctively
rushed to the house. Some of the students were rushing around, looking for warm towels. My heart dropped. They’d been saying
since the day we arrived that Amina was due any day. She was the sweetest, thinnest seventeen-year-old girl that you ever
wanted to meet. She had very little education and could speak only a little English, but from the moment we met, she clung
to me. I often forced it to the back of my mind that she was dying of AIDS. I wondered how she got it and who gave it to her
and why no one was here to take care of her.

The midwife arrived seconds after Devin and I. She put a sheet over Amina and checked her out. She warned Señora Gonzales
that the baby was coming. Several people gathered near Amina, and the midwife asked us to back away. Amina was screaming and
pointing. I was in the corner praying that everything would work out when Señora Gonzales said, “She wants you over here.”

I was shocked. “Me?”

“Yes. Now come here, girl.”

I rushed over, and Amina’s thin fingers gripped mine tightly. I rubbed her hair to calm her down and began singing to her.
Tears rolled from her eyes. After an eternity, the baby came out. She had given birth to a baby boy. The doctor handed him
to me first. I cradled him in the thin little blanket he was wrapped in. He looked almost Asian, with a head full of straight,
black hair. He was almost too adorable to be real. I stooped down beside Amina. “Your baby.”

She wailed like she was still in pain. The midwife told her to calm down while she stitched her back up. Señora Gonzales asked
me to walk with her. She explained that after they give birth a lot of the mothers experience some sort of guilt, because
they don’t know if the baby will be infected or will be able to grow out of it. Tears rolled from my eyes, because I didn’t
want to imagine this baby could possibly be infected. It was unfair that some of these women didn’t have access to medications
that would save their babies.

When everything settled, the midwife took a blood sample from the baby and said she would return with the results the next
day. Amina lay in her little cot to recover. I pulled a small folding chair beside her bed and stroked her hair while she
held the baby.

“His name?”

She smiled and pointed to Devin.
“Como se llama?”

“Devin.”

She nodded anxiously. I pointed to the baby. “His name.”

“Si. Es
Devin.

I called Devin over to tell him what she wanted to do. He spoke to her in Spanish, trying to confirm that was definitely what
she wanted. Señora Gonzales said it was a great idea. Devin was the name, and Amina was happy.

Hours later, Devin and I were headed back to the hotel to get ready for the beach. I walked over to tell Amina that we were
leaving. I rubbed her face and tears rolled from her eyes.
“Quiero tu tienes mi hijo. Comprende?”

By the confused look on my face, she knew I didn’t understand. She repeated. Finally, I called Devin over and he said, “She
wants you to have her baby.” He smiled at me. “She wants you to take her baby to the States.”

I was overwhelmed, but I wasn’t sure I could make that promise. Not at that very moment, at least. Devin said something else
to her and she insisted. Señora Gonzales said something to her and then she turned to me. “Many of these mothers will not
see their babies grow up. Amina says when she dies she wants you to take her baby. No need for pressure right now. Think about
it. If you like, we will make sure that happens. If the baby is HIV negative.”

My eyes shifted from Señora Gonzales to Devin to Amina. I didn’t know what I should say. Clearly if Devin and I kept all of
our promises, I would have loved to take little Devin home. But what if he stayed with Taylor and I stayed with Kenneth? I
wouldn’t be able to. I was a stunned deer as everyone flashed their eyes on me. I felt pressured, so I nodded. Amina said,
“Gracias! Gracias!”

I hugged her again before leaving. It hurt not to know if I could keep my promise, although I felt a strong connection to
that baby when I held him. When we sat in the car, I held Devin’s hand and he wrapped his free arm around my shoulders.

He said, “We can come back and get Devin after the election. You know?”

“Devin, I’m not sure. What happens if he’s positive?”

“Some of the babies are positive for antibodies for a while and they eventually grow out of it. So, they’ll keep testing him.
Why? Do you want to wait until the results are negative?”

I shrugged. A part of me wanted to take that baby home and love him one way or the other. Then, there was a part of me that
felt like adding a baby into this already complicated mess would make things worse. But still another part of me knew I’d
made a promise and somehow I had to honor it.

“Are we really going to be together, Devin?”

“Isn’t that what we said?”

Devin spoke as if divorce was as simple as one two three, but I had seen Reggie and Sheena’s divorce. They had fought over
assets, custody, visitation, anything there was to fight over. It took a lot longer than either of them expected. Kenneth
and I were so intertwined, and as much as Devin was sure he could do it, I wasn’t so sure. The thought of walking into the
house and telling Kenneth it was over frightened me. I wasn’t sure he’d give in so easily. We always said divorce was not
an option. What real grounds did I have to stand on?

Two days later, we got the results. Baby Devin was HIV positive and I found the courage to let Amina know that I wanted to
wait until he got stronger before I adopted him. She understood. Señora Gonzales agreed that we should wait. She said you
never can tell—either babies grow out of the disease or they die very fast, and she didn’t want us to get attached and then
lose the baby. Still, the results didn’t prevent me from holding baby Devin all day long. He loved to be rocked to sleep and
I loved doing so, after Amina fed him.

This was the first evening we didn’t watch the sun set on the beach. Instead we went back to our room, showered, and made
love. Around nine, we left to sit in the Jacuzzi. On our way, we passed the business center. Devin realized he hadn’t checked
his e-mail all day, and I’d completely forgotten about mine the entire week. We sat down at neighboring computers. When I
opened mine, there were six messages from Teeny and five from Reggie. Each one had a subject heading that frightened me more:

Your Husband Is In Jail.

I will kill him.

Where are you?

Get Home Now
.

I stopped breathing. I couldn’t move. My brain deadlocked as I read the headline of an article Teeny included in her message:
DIRECTOR OF MENTAL HEALTH CENTER ACCUSED OF HAVING A YEARLONG AFFAIR WITH AN UNDERAGE PATIENT.

This wasn’t possible. My heart raced and I bit my nails as I scanned the article. Tears fell from my eyes. Kenneth was being
falsely accused of having a relationship with a sixteen-year-old in my group home. All of the girls had been placed in other
homes until the investigation was over. They couldn’t disclose the young lady’s name because she was a minor. And the article
mentioned his wife being out of the country in an unknown location. I felt like I could faint—and apparently I did, because
I awoke to Devin fanning me with a towel.

“Are you okay? What’s going on?”

“I need to leave in the morning. I need to change my flight. Oh, my God! My husband is in trouble. One of my girls lied on
him, claiming they had a yearlong sexual relationship.” I screamed, “I know Kenneth would never do something like that! It’s
not possible!”

I needed to get home to see who the little heifer was that lied on him. I had to get out of Nicaragua before they tracked
me down. Here I was making plans to walk out on him, and he was sitting in jail for someone living in my group home.

I started hyperventilating. Devin rushed out and grabbed me a bottle of water. When a group home gets a record like this one,
it’s usually over. I would have to reopen under a different name at a different location. God only knew if Kenneth could keep
the center open, since we survived mainly on government contracts. Even if the allegations weren’t true, which I was positive
they weren’t, they could still destroy everything we had built. As I expressed all this to Devin, he calmly said, “Let me
know what I can do.”

“We don’t have a savings. We spent it all trying to have a baby. We’re broke and we can’t afford this. This is going to destroy
everyone,” I wailed.

There was no doubt in my mind that one of the girls did this to hurt me. There were only two sixteen-year-olds in therapy,
Raven and Shatina. I flipped back and forth between the two and decided it could only be Raven. I sat there in anguish, stressed;
Devin kindly began searching for flights back for me. He got me on a noon flight out of Managua, and I would arrive in Baltimore
around nine in the evening. My bowels were loose, and I had to vomit. Devin held my hand as we walked back to the room. He
didn’t say much and I didn’t need him to. I had to get back home and get Kenneth out of jail.

Reggie’s messages stated that he refused to put his house up for a child molester. So, Kenneth had been sitting in jail for
two days while Teeny tried to contact me. I felt like I’d betrayed him. I was cuddling in paradise while he was in a hard,
cold jail cell. My guts spilled into the toilet. He definitely didn’t deserve this. Devin asked, “Is there anything I can
do to help?”

I kept saying no, but then I wondered how we planned to pay an attorney. How long would it be before they returned the girls
to the group home? I could lose funding. The mortgage on the group home had to be paid.

“I’m going to need some financial help to get through until they bring the girls back.”

“I’ll transfer money into your account tomorrow. Don’t worry. I got your back. Write your routing number and your account
number down before you leave.”

We turned the lights off and we lay in spoon position silently for hours. I cried and Devin wiped my tears. He was so gentle
and understanding. I didn’t know how to tell him that I wasn’t sure I could break up with Kenneth until this was over. I owed
my husband that much. Although he had evolved into an asshole, he was there for me when Devin had shattered my self-esteem.
I would be cursed if I walked out now.

In so many words, I told Devin that when we got to the airport. He told me he understood, but it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.
He kissed me and said, “What if he’s guilty?”

The plane was boarding and the attendant rushed me. My mouth hung open. I was appalled. Did he really think I could be married
to a man capable of doing that? I pushed him away from me.

He said, “Go ahead, you got to get on the flight. It’s okay. You just have misdirected anger.”

I backed away from him. If I was angry with anyone, it was myself. I should have never been here, doing this. This was my
punishment for disrespecting my vows. I climbed on the small plane and sobbed all the way to Managua. Somehow my life was
always the one that got destroyed while Devin’s kept on rising.

37

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