Two Steps Back (8 page)

The question landed like a bomb, exploding hurt feelings and rendering them both silent.
She peeked at him from the corner of her eye and saw a wave of shock—or was it hurt?—move across his handsome face.

“I…I…
don’t even want to…” he stuttered, then stopped; the question robbing him of his voice yet again. “Why are you thinking like this?”

“You married
Fiona because she got pregnant.” She looked at him then. “But she lost the baby. Now you’re getting divorced. What if…”

He held up his hand. “A lot happened between those two events
, Jaylah. We’re not getting divorced because she lost the baby. That was almost five years ago. We just grew—”

“Right,”
she cut him off hoping to sidestep the standard line of a relationship pulled apart by time and unhappiness. “You’re getting divorced because of me. I’m the home wrecker, remember?”

She meant that last bit as
a half-joke, but plump tears ran to the rims of her eyes after she said it.

Home wrecker
.

That’s what Jaylah was,
right? She’d never actually said the words aloud, but she’d thought them—almost nonstop—since that afternoon in Brick Lane.  How else could she describe falling in love with a married man, who in turn had decided to leave his wife because she was carrying his child?

If Jaylah hadn’t stepped in and
wrecked Fiona’s life, wouldn’t she be at home with her husband?

“Jaylah,”
Johnny said, his tone soft and careful. “You’re not a home wrecker, love. I admit, I was completely taken with you and lost my head, but this isn’t your fault.”

“But if you hadn’t have met me, you wouldn’t be getting divorced and Fiona wouldn’t be losing her husband.”

Johnny took a sip of water and appeared to compose his thoughts. It was his turn to glance at the traffic humming along outside of the café. “We would have gotten divorced anyway, Jay.”

“
Yeah, just not so soon,” she said dryly.

“
Does it matter when? Our relationship was over, had been over for years. We were just both too comfortable and too scared to say the words. Meeting you was the catalyst for me to finally do what I’d thought about doing so many times before.”

“But you were still sleeping with her…” Jaylah
half-asked/half-stated before really thinking about the implication of her words. But it was one of the things that continued to gnaw at her brain.

Had she ever actually shared Johnny? Did he sleep
with both of them at the same time? Had there been some tiny sliver of overlap between the times he shared her bed and when he made love to his wife?

Made love…to Fiona?

The mere thought of it triggered the bile to percolate in Jaylah’s belly.

It shouldn’t have mattered
considering they hadn’t even talked about being exclusive when they first started dating. But there had been no one else in Jaylah’s orbit after Johnny swept into her world and set her heart alight. She didn’t even notice other men when she moved through the city; he had captured her attention so thoroughly she was blind to everyone else. But could the same be said for him, especially with a wife at home?

Johnny rubbed the side of his head and sighed. “No. Not since…”

“We met? I found out I was pregnant? What?” Jaylah pressed, scared of what he might say.

He flinched at her sharp tone, and his chest
billowed like someone had flipped a switch. “Since that afternoon on the London Eye,” he said grabbing her hand and exhaling when Jaylah didn’t pull it away. “That was the beginning…of us.”

Jaylah inspected his face for anything that would tell her Jo
hnny was bullshitting her. A twitch of the eye, the hint of a nervous smile, a diverted glace, but he never broke her gaze. Johnny stared into her eyes until she was forced to look away as a new groundswell of tears marched to her eyes once again.

Between the pregnancy hormones, and her unwillingness to
give in and trust him, this situation was kicking her ass and forcing her to ride the wildest emotional rollercoaster of her life.

On one hand
Jaylah was happy to have a man who loved her so fucking hard he’d jump on a plane and fly across an ocean because she said so, but on the other, nothing about their life—except for the inexplicable bond they’d created—made sense or felt like the responsible thing to do.

Jaylah had literally sprinted away from Johnny when she found out he was married. She had run for blocks and blocks trying to put enough space between the
tug of her heart and what she knew was right, but it had all failed.

Despite her ranting, despite cursing him out for lying,
despite refusing to take his calls, she was not only carrying his child, but she was also hoping against hope that they could survive this topsy-turvy ride.

Jaylah took large gulps of her tea,
wishing to quell the hurricane of feelings swirling around inside her head. Being constantly on edge was not good for her, but it was especially bad for the baby who was probably dinning on a womb full of cortisol.

If she was going to make through this Jaylah n
eeded to get her shit together—fast. She couldn’t vacillate between being head-over-tits in love with Johnny, to questioning every word that came out of his mouth. Even if she couldn’t get her heart in check for her own peace of mind, she owed it to the little one growing inside her.

Jaylah
started to speak, but the barista appeared with her sandwich and Johnny’s croissants, causing her mouth to water as soon as she caught a whiff of the decadent pastries.

“Want a bite?” Johnny asked, a hopeful smile crossing his face. He held out the treat and fed it to Jaylah, his grin growing wider
as he watched her do a little happy dance in her seat.

“Ohmygod,”
Jaylah said, eyes still closed. “That’s soooo good, Johnny. So, so good. Give me more!”

Johnny shook his head playfully. “Not until you eat your sandwich, babes. Real food first, then sweets.”

Damn, here he goes again
.

Jaylah scrunched up her face and
frowned at him. “You know, you may be older than me, but you’re not my father. You can’t tell me what to do. First the coffee, what’s next? You’re gonna tell me to eat all my vegetables before I can leave the table?”

He
broke out in a hearty laugh, rocking back and forth as he chortled. His chuckle traveled across the table, softening Jaylah’s expression into a smirk.

“
Believe me
,” he said, drawing out the words, “I know I can’t tell you what to do, babes.”

“Then what’s up with
the whole Jonathan Poku, Captain of the Food Police, thing?”

“I just want to take care of you,
Jaylah,” he said without a hint of a leftover laugh in his voice. “Is that alright with you?”

She stared at him for a beat, trying to decide if he was sincere. Giving into his words, Jaylah moved to his side of the table and sat in his lap.
“Of course,” she said, planting a soft kiss on his lips. “Of course that’s alright.”

Twelve

Mrs. Baldwin scurried around the kitchen grabbing pans, flour, eggs, meat, and what looked like all of the produce from the fridge. Jaylah watched her mother, animated and frazzled, flutter about the space like a chicken running from a butcher’s blade.

“Mom, it’s not even noon. You don’t have to start cooking
yet,” Jaylah said even though she knew her mother wasn’t going to listen.

She’d seen this scene
play out many times before whenever her father would bring over business associates, or Mrs. Baldwin would host luncheons for the women from their church. Jaylah’s mom would easily spend an entire day cooking and cleaning in the hopes that everything would turn out perfect.

Watching her now, Jaylah felt both sorry for and in awe of her mother who worked so hard to keep up
the façade of perfection that it had become her fulltime job. In Jaylah’s 28 years, she had only seen her mother spin out of control once—when Julian died.

But
even that didn’t last very long. After Mrs. Baldwin recovered from losing her newborn, she poured herself into making sure everything in her life hummed along like a well-oiled machine.

For starters
Sarah Baldwin always looked flawless. Even though she was over fifty, people often mistook her for Jaylah’s older sister. Her skin unmarked by wrinkles, her petite frame still lean and toned, and her curly afro dyed blonde to cover up the gray. Mrs. Baldwin never left the house in sweats or “old lady clothes,” as she called them. Instead she ran errands in tailored jeans, colorful blouses, and ballet flats.

“You should always look like you care, Jay Jay,” she’d told her daughter once
when she caught Jaylah on her way to the store wearing pajama bottoms and a hoodie, “even when you don’t.”

Despite
hosting this dinner to interrogate Johnny, Jaylah marveled at her mother’s need to impress him as well. She’d spent the morning plying Jaylah with questions about what Johnny ate, what he did for a living, and if his parents were excited about the baby.

“We haven’t told them yet
, mother,” Jaylah had said, unable to tell her mother the truth. Not only did Johnny’s parents not know about the baby, they didn’t even know about her.

“Do you need any help, mom?”
she asked, hoping Mrs. Baldwin would turn her down. Though Jaylah didn’t mind helping out, the last thing she wanted to do was hang out in the kitchen inhaling conflicting aromas while Mrs. Baldwin prepped the meal. Her stomach had been so finicky lately, any wayward smell could ruin her day and send her clinging to the porcelain throne.

“No, Jay Jay, I’ve got it
covered. Besides, you’re looking a little flush. Feeling okay?”

“Yeah…
for now. I’m hoping I don’t get sick, though. Yesterday I barely kept any food down.”

Mrs. Baldwin emptied her arms and put the back of her hand to Jaylah’s
forehead. “Hmmm. Maybe you should make an appointment with Dr. Lawson just to make sure everything’s alright. And I’m sure your…” she hesitated for a moment. “I’m sure Johnny would like to see the baby move if he can.”

“Maybe. I’m going to get some air. You sure you don’t need my help?”

“I can handle it. Just remember, dinner’s at six.”

“
Got it.”

Jaylah grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator then headed out the
kitchen, excited to see her man. If she hurried, she could spend a few hours wrapped around Johnny instead of feeling guilty for not helping her mother with dinner.

Jaylah
looked herself over in the living room mirror before leaving the house. She looked presentable
enough
in her baby doll dress and patterned tights, not that Johnny ever cared what she had on as long as he could peal it off.

Her hair was a different story, however. Her curls looked dry and frizzy, and in
desperate need of a trim. Instead of climbing the stairs to her room, Jaylah smoothed her tresses into a lazy topknot, then bounded out the door and jumped in the car starting toward Marina del Rey. Fifteen minutes later she was knocking on Johnny’s door.

“
You’re a little early for dinner, yeah?” Johnny asked, chuckling when he saw her standing in the entryway.

“Oh, you’re not happy to see me?” she shot back
, copping a fake attitude.

“Alway
s, babes.”

Johnny leaned
down to kiss her, but Jaylah sidestepped his lips, walked around him, and stripped off her clothes.

“Not wasting any time today, huh?” he said, watching her
remove her leggings.

“Oh
please, Johnny,” she said, taking her dress off. “It’s not even like that. I just came to lie down. This bed is so damn comfortable.”

Jaylah slid under the fluffy duvet and sighed. The
supple sheets and feathery pillows were a welcomed change from the mattress at her parent’s house that felt like she was sleeping on a concrete slab.

“Feeling okay?” he asked, slipping in beside her.

“Yeah, just tired. And a little concerned about tonight.”

The truth? Jaylah was scared shitless about
the dinner with her parents. She’d spent the previous night running the many ways their meal could turn into a disaster through her mind. The options were plentiful.

“Don’t worry
,” he said, planting a kiss on her forehead, “your parents will love me. How could they not?”

She gave him a look.

Seriously?!

“Umm, I
don’t know, maybe because you’re married? I’m almost certain that topic will come up.”

“But
I thought you haven’t told them,” Johnny asked, confused.

“Oh, I haven’t.
And I’m not going to,” she added quickly. “But I’m sure my parents are going to ask about your ‘plans,’ and that’s just code for, ‘When are you guys getting married?’”

Jaylah
could almost sense when the question would arise: most likely after dinner while her mother was serving the dessert. Her father would lean back in his chair, pat his too full stomach and ask, “So what are you two planning to do?” and Jaylah’s mother would chime in, “Because the baby will be here before you know it.”

She had been rehearsing her response for
days. Jaylah would speak up first, giving herself some wiggle room to decide about their future after the baby arrived. Her parents wouldn’t like her answer, but she’d sell it on the basis of not wanting to rush into marriage until well after her crazy pregnancy hormones wore off. “Marriage shouldn’t be a rash decision,” she pictured herself telling them. “I don’t want to enter into it lightly and while I’m not thinking straight,” she’d reiterate.

Jaylah hoped they’d buy it.

“Well…you know my answer to that,” Johnny said, bringing her back to reality.

“Right, right. Get married, raise the baby,
live happily ever after, the end,” she said, her voice sounding robotic.

“
You make it sound like the worst thing in the world.”

“Well…it’s not the best.”

Lines of concern instantly crinkled Johnny’s face. “Excuse me? Not the best? You don’t want to be with me?”

“
Of course I do,” Jaylah said, hoping to lessen the blow she just delivered. “I just don’t want to rush into anything, you know that. Besides, you’re still married, and unless the UK has some relaxed polygamy laws, we can’t get married right now even if we wanted to.”

“
But do you want to?” he asked, perched on an elbow and looking serious. “Because you know what I want.”

Jaylah
had to stop herself from rolling her eyes, but she was already annoyed. She’d come to Johnny’s room to rest, not exert her mental reserves having the same damn conversation about their future for the fifty-leventh time.

How can you be so fucking sure?
The words circled through her brain, but never made it to Jaylah’s tongue. She didn’t feel like having this discussion because neither of their views had changed over the past few weeks. Johnny’s position was steadfast and unchanging, while everything about Jaylah was completely up in the air.

It was true,
Jaylah couldn’t picture her life without Johnny in it, and she’d certainly tried. But that didn’t mean they should rush into marriage as soon as possible, did it? They hadn’t even known each other for a year.

“Johnny…” she said, trying to choose her words carefully, “I don’t know what I want right now. All I know is that I love you and we’re having a baby. But
other than that? I’m not even sure. I mean, your family doesn’t know about me or the baby or your divorce. How can you even talk about marrying me and they don’t even know I exist?”

“I’ve just been looking for
the perfect time to tell them about everything. My family is very traditional, and…”

And they’ll see me as some
kind of home wrecking, American whore
, she wanted to add, but didn’t.

Jaylah rolled away from Johnny, turn
ing her back on the rest of his explanation, which made her feel like a dirty secret he was scared to admit.

“Jaylah, don’t
be like that. Look at me, please?” he asked, trying to nudge her back in his direction, but she waved him off.

“I’m ti
red,” she said, hoping he’d leave her alone. “I just want to take a nap.”

Jaylah closed her eyes and
tried to pretend Johnny wasn’t lying next to her full of excuses about why he hadn’t told his parents about the woman he professed to love and for whom he would uproot his entire life.

What part of the game is that?
I’m good enough to impregnate, but not meet your traditional-ass parents?

What was he waiting for? The time would never be right. Waiting another day or month or year would not make telling the truth any easier, but it was clear to Jaylah that Jo
hnny wasn’t prepared to say it.

She
felt herself losing the battle against the hurt building in her chest and squeezed her eyes tighter. But it was no use, Jaylah was crying, again. Silent tears streamed down her face and into the pillow faster than she could wipe them away, but she remained still, hoping Johnny wouldn’t notice.

“Jaylah please look at me,” he asked again, still trying to convince her to turn around. “I’m going to tell them, I prom—“

A sob escaped; she just couldn’t hold it in any longer. Jaylah didn’t want to hear any bullshit promises; she didn’t want to hear that Johnny would tell his parents
soon, baby soon
. If she was going to do this and be with him for real and forever, he needed to claim her to those that mattered most.

“Baby?” Johnny moved to her side of the bed and saw
Jaylah’s damp face. “Please don’t cry, Jay. You know I can’t handle that.” He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her tears.

She pulled away from him again, sitting up in bed and
pulling her knees close to her chest. She didn’t want Johnny to touch her, didn’t want to lose sight of her hurt and anger by giving into his comforting hands.

Jaylah was pissed off, but lately, everything she felt manifested
as tears, making her look like some kind of feeble, downtrodden woman who needed to be saved, which couldn’t be further from the truth.

“Honestly, Johnny, I don’t want to hear another fucking word about getting married until you tell your parents abo
ut us.” She glared at him, wiping the remaining tears from her cheeks. “Not tonight, not tomorrow, not another fucking word!”

Her tone made
him recoil. Johnny no doubt expected to soothe her with more promises, more declarations of love, but Jaylah wasn’t having it. Not anymore. She was tired of feeling like a secret addiction that he’d accommodate, but not admit in the light of day.

Sure, they’d
roamed around London like a happy couple, but she wasn’t integrated into his life. Johnny had never introduced her to his friends, had never invited her up to his office, and had yet to tell his family he was in love with her.

Johnny stared at
Jaylah, stunned, and she took advantage of his silence.

“I’ve never met a single person you know
, Johnny. Do you realize that? Not a
single
person. I know your parents moved back to Ghana, but you’ve got a sister in Manchester. That’s like two hours away! Haven’t met her. Haven’t been introduced to anyone you work with. Haven’t met any of your friends,” she got out of bed and began pacing around the room. “Meanwhile, You’ve hung out with me and Jourdan, you’ve met my boss, and now you’re meeting my parents. Do you know why that is?” she paused and waited for a response, but Johnny was rendered mute. “Because I fucking
care
about you. I love you. You’re an important part of my life, Johnny, so I’ve included you in it. I’m not stashing you away like something I’m ashamed of.”

He came alive then. “I’m not ashamed of you, Jaylah.”