Wives and Champions (6 page)

“
So, I’m not the same…” she
repeated. Her face flushed.

“
You’re getting upset.
Forget it. We’ll talk about it later.”

“
No. Let’s talk about it
now since you brought it up, Desmond.” She adjusted Nolan in her
lap. “How am I not the same?”

“
First off, you’re always
in bed. Always.”

“
That’s a lie.”

“
Sherita, I took our
children to the park without you because you were in
bed.”

“
Yeah, I was in bed,” she
snapped, “Because I was up for most of the night!”

“
Why are you
yelling?”

“
Because you’re telling me
I’m
always
in bed
and that’s simply not true, Desmond.”

“
Then you don’t have to
yell,” he said evenly. “You don’t have to raise your voice to talk
to me. We’re trying to have a simple, husband-wife
conversation.”

“
Yeah. Simple
conversation,” she said mockingly.

His forehead creased. “I started off
by saying I was worried about you, remember?”

“
Whatever.”

Desmond sighed heavily. Sharply. “I’m
not going to argue with you in front of our children. I refuse.”
Desmond bounced Celeste in his arms. “You’re stressed out. You told
me your blood pressure was elevated when you went in for your
postpartum checkup. That’s why I planned the Myrtle Beach getaway
for us, but even then you seemed jittery and overly
anxious.”

“
I have two kids. I’m
supposed to be anxious.”

“
We
have two kids,” Desmond corrected. “And it’s okay to feel
anxious, but it’s more to it than that, Sherita.”

“
You know what…I…I can’t do
this right now. I just want to eat my sandwich. In peace.” She
stood up with Nolan, picking up her plate with her free hand and
walked to the family room.

Desmond scrubbed a hand down his face.
This wasn’t right. While Sherita claimed she was fine and just
tired from breastfeeding, taking care of the kids and settling into
her new role as a mother to two kids, he knew it was more than
that.

He stood up from the table and walked
to the family room. When he stepped in, he noticed Sherita had
placed Nolan on his play mat. So he placed Celeste on hers. Then he
sat down on the couch next to Sherita.

“
Sherita, sweetheart, I’m
not trying to argue with you, and the last thing I want to do is
upset you, but something’s wrong, and I wouldn’t be the man of this
house if I didn’t do something about it.”

Sherita continued eating her sandwich
like he wasn’t sitting there.

“
Talk to me.”

“
I told you, I’m not doing
this.”

“
You’re not going to talk
to me?”

“
No. I’m eating. I just
want to eat.”

“
Okay,” Desmond said. “Then
I’ll talk. I think we need to see a doctor. I’ve been doing a lot
of research this past week and based on your symptoms, you’re
experiencing postpartum depression. I know this is overwhelming. I
mean, we’re a new couple and we hardly had time to get to know each
other before you were pregnant, so that, along with the
responsibilities of not one baby, but
two
is stressful…for the both of
us.”

Sherita narrowed her eyes at him. “How
is it stressful for you?”

“
Because I’m learning just
like you are. I don’t know everything about being a father. I’ve
learned some things along the way, but what I do know is, you’re
stressed out and I don’t like it.”

“
I’m fine.”

“
You’re not fine. You’re
not fine, Sherita,” he repeated. “This is not you. This is not the
Sherita I married. You don’t attempt to do your hair. You don’t
wear makeup – not that you need it – but still, it’s about getting
up and presenting yourself to the world. You don’t try
anymore.”

“
Oh. Well, I’m sorry if my
looks aren’t up to your standards anymore, Desmond.”

“
Don’t twist my words. What
I said was—”

“
I heard you loud and
clear,” she interrupted. “I’m not the same. I dress like a slob and
I look a hot mess. I guess I better step my game up if I want to
keep a man like you, huh?”

Frustrated, Desmond shook his
head.

“
Is that why we don’t go
out anymore?” she asked. “You’re ashamed of me? Is that it? Scared
we’re going to run into some of your colleagues and I’ll embarrass
you?”

“
You’re being
ridiculous.”

“
No, I’m being real,
Desmond. I’m saying all the things you won’t say.”

Desmond grimaced. He looked over at
the kids to make sure they were okay before he took Sherita by the
hand and stepped just outside of the door. He refused to argue in
front of the children. “Listen to me. I am in no way ashamed of
you. Do you want to know why we don’t go out anymore, Sherita? It’s
because you don’t want to. You don’t want to do anything but work,
come home, feed the babies and crash. How many times have I tried
to arrange something for us, just you and me, and you completely go
ballistic about how much work you have to do around here? Just last
weekend, I canceled reservations at Connelley’s because you didn’t
want to go.”

No, she didn’t want to go. What she
didn’t tell him was, the night before they were supposed to go to
Connelley’s, she had tried on several dresses and couldn’t fit any
of them. Those flat abs she used to have were history, replaced by
belly fat and stretch marks. She had read articles that suggested
women who had C-section incisions wouldn’t lose the belly fat near
the scar which for her meant, no more two-piece bathing suits,
fitted dresses and sexy blouses.

Then there was her hair. No one told
her that, with pregnancy, her hair would shed more than normal,
especially in the temple area. How was she supposed to dress up and
feel pretty, sexy and confident in a dress that hugged her gut
while rocking thin, stringy, lifeless hair?

And what about the kids? She was very
protective of them as any mother should be of their children. But
it had taken thirty-six interviews for her to settle on a part-time
nanny to take care of the babies four hours a day for four days a
week. Her mother watched them for the remaining four hours. Even
then, Sherita still called multiple times throughout the day to
guarantee their safety. How could she leave them behind while she
ate dinner?

“
Sherita?”

She looked up at Desmond, held his
gaze while tears pooled in her eyes. “What?” she asked,
broken-spirited.

He reached up to touch her face, but
she ducked her head out of the way. She didn’t want his hands
touching her face. She could see the weight gain there, too, along
with a bit of slight skin discoloration. She had no doubt, he could
see it. Why would he even want to touch her face?

Desmond grimaced. “Sherita, why—” He
paused, took a moment to think. “Um…maybe you should spend some
time with Emily and Melanie tonight. Maybe they can give you some
advice. As a matter of fact, why don’t you do that? I’m supposed to
be getting with Dante and Dimitrius later, anyway, so I’ll help get
the babies ready. We can ride over to Dante and Emily’s
together.”

“
Whatever you say,” she
said with a trembling voice, crossing her arms. “Is that
all?”

Speechless, Desmond looked at her. In
business, he proved to be more aggressive. In a marriage to the
woman he loved more than his own soul, he couldn’t be that way. It
was something he was learning every day – how to separate the two.
How to deal with her. How to be there for her emotionally which
sometimes meant giving her space to make her own adjustments. He
would get through to her at some point, but it wouldn’t be today
and definitely not in this moment. “Yes, Sherita. That’s
all.”

Sherita walked away from him, headed
for the bathroom while batting a tear away from her face as she did
so.

Desmond hung his head. His plan was to
talk to her about the sensitive topic of postpartum depression
without upsetting her. He’d failed. The tears in her eyes told him
so.

Way to go, Des. You screwed
that up, big time
.

He shook his head and walked back into
the family room, sitting on the floor with his children, watching
them play while thinking of ways to help his wife.

Chapter Four

Since they all met at Dante and
Emily’s house, the brothers rode together to the bar. Desmond
drove, was quiet as he did so with the exception of asking Dante
which bar they were headed to. Now, sitting on barstools, the
brothers waited until they could get the first few swallows of
their drinks down before any conversation began.

Desmond opted for vodka on the rocks.
Dante and Dimitrius went with whiskey – Bourbon.

“
Can’t believe it’s only a
few minutes after eight,” Desmond said. “I must be getting
old.”

Dimitrius grinned. “You hear this,
Dante. The youngest of us is complaining about being
old.”

Dante smirked. “Being the
oldest,
I
should
be the one complaining about getting old, don’t you
think?”

“
Not necessarily,” Desmond
said. “I have more children, so...”

“
That’s your rebuttal?”
Dante said, laughing after he did so.

Dimitrius chuckled. “Is that how it
works?”

“
Yep,” Desmond said after
taking a sip. “That’s how it works.”

“
These gray hairs sprinkled
throughout my head are saying otherwise.” Dante took a sip of his
drink and continued, “Even still, if that’s your argument, that you
have more kids, then you’ll have to find another one because I also
have two.”

Desmond frowned. “Meaning what?” he
asked, knowing Dante only had one child – a son.

“
Yeah,” Dimitrius asked,
turning to look at Dante. “What does that mean?”

Dante took a sip. He sighed heavily
then said, “What I’m about to tell you does not leave this
bar.”

“
All right, so spill it,”
Dimitrius said.

“
Okay, so, ah...Emily is
pregnant, but she won’t tell me.”

Desmond’s face twisted. “She won’t
tell you?”

“
No.”

“
Then, how do you know
she’s pregnant?” Dimitrius asked.

“
Because I know. I can feel
it. Her mannerisms are different. She’s glowing. You know how
pregnant women get that glow. You’ve seen it in your own
wives.”

“
Still doesn’t mean she’s
pregnant,” Desmond said.

“
Maybe she’s just,”
Dimitrius shrugged, “I don’t know. Evolving.”

Dante looked at his brother
sideways.
Maybe that liquor has gotten to
your brain
. “What are you talking about,
Dimitrius?”

“
Hold on,” Desmond said. He
didn’t know about Emily, but he

certainly felt like Sherita was
evolving. “Dimitrius may have a point. If you didn’t see a
pregnancy test, then—”

“
I don’t need to see a
test. She’s pregnant. She’s my wife. I know.”

“
All right,” Desmond said,
palms up.

“
What I don’t understand
is, why she refuses to tell me,” Dante said.

“
Don’t know, bruh,”
Dimitrius said. “Maybe she’s waiting for the right
moment.”

“
Or she could be worried
about how you’re going to react,” Desmond added.

“
But that’s the thing. She
knows I want another child. We had an argument about it last night
at dinner.”

“
An argument about what?”
Dimitrius asked.

“
I brought up the subject
of another child, and she blew up, talking about how we didn’t
spend enough time with Ezra.” Dante shook his head.

“
I’ve heard the same thing
from Sherita a few times about the twins,” Desmond said. “She
doesn’t think we spend enough time with them but here’s the thing
that irritates me about her argument. Our wives do not have to work
outside of the home. They could very easily be stay-at-home
mothers.”

“
Like Melanie,” Dimitrius
said.

“
Exactly.” Desmond went on
to say, “Now, we married strong, independent women who had their
own aspirations before they met us, so while I would like for
Sherita to be a stay-at-home mother to the kids, I can’t demand
that of her.”

Dimitrius nodded.

“
Sorry I went off topic,
Dante,” Desmond said. “I just had to get that off of my
chest.”

Dante tossed back his drink. “It’s
cool. I get what you’re saying. Emily could easily stay home and
take care of Ezra. Will she? No. She has the boutique to run. My
issue, right this very moment is, my wife is pregnant and she just
told me last night that she doesn’t want another baby. At least not
right now.”

“
Is it possible that she
doesn’t know she’s pregnant?” Desmond asked.