Any Way the Wind Blows - E. Lynn Harris [5]
Basil’s Back
Have you ever heard news so shocking that you feel like someone has pulled the rug out from under you, then picked up the table and pimp-slapped you upside your head? Two months ago that shit happened to me, and I’m still trying to recover.
I was rolling out of bed with my special lady friend, Rosa Matthews, after some pulse-popping sex. She had that special afterglow I’ve been known to lay on the ladies, and a few men for that matter.
“I’ve got something to tell you,” Rosa said. Despite the sleep in her eyes, Rosa was beautiful. Her long black hair was pulled back and she was wearing one of my T-shirts. I looked up at her as I launched into my preshower round of 200 sit-ups. (I do them in the nude, of course, to make sure my body stays tight.) I am proud of the fact that despite being thirtysomething, I don’t have an ounce of fat on my 6′2″, 215-pound body.
“What? You got another weeklong trip?” I asked. Rosa is an international flight attendant for United.
“Basil, I’m pregnant,” she said calmly.
“You’re what?” I stopped mid-crunch.
“I’m pregnant,” Rosa repeated.
At one point in my life those words would have made me angry and fearful, but recently I’ve harbored the strong desire to have kids, and Rosa would make a great mother. I grabbed Rosa and pulled her toward me and kissed her passionately, but she pushed me off and pulled away.
“How many months are you?” I asked.
“Three.”
“And you’re just telling me?”
“I wanted to make sure everything was all right. I went to the doctor yesterday and actually heard the baby’s heartbeat.”
“You did! I want to hear it,” I said as I moved my ear down toward Rosa’s stomach, but she brushed my head away.
“What’s the matter?” I quizzed.
Rosa was silent, and tears started to roll down her face.
“Baby, what’s the matter? Everything will be fine. You know how much I want children. Is there something wrong with the baby?” Rosa didn’t say anything, and while I was trying to figure out why she was crying, she said, “Basil, it’s not your baby.” Her voice was so soft, a whisper, and I wanted to make sure I had heard her correctly.
“What did you say?”
“It’s not your baby.”
This time I heard her loud and clear.
“What do you mean it’s not my baby?” I said, suddenly feeling rising anger. Since the first time we met, almost a year ago, Rosa and I had been talking about how much we both loved and wanted children. It was one of the reasons I was attracted to her.
How could she give me this kind of news now? A few months earlier my sister Campbell’s husband was promoted and the family relocated to Pittsburgh. I’d told Rosa on numerous occasions how much I missed my nephew Cade, and she had even offered to give me flight passes so I could visit him on a regular basis.
“Basil, I’m sorry. But I thought we’d agreed we weren’t ready to be exclusive, especially with both of our schedules,” Rosa said, never raising her eyes. Good, at least she was feeling guilty. Yeah, we’d agreed not to tie each other down. I loved the fact that Rosa was independent. I didn’t need a woman who wanted to be my shadow. I’d gotten used to getting calls from her telling me she was on her way to Paris to shop on her days off. Sure, I was still dibbling and dabbling with some of my female freaks I kept on the side, but I wasn’t having unprotected sex with them.
Rosa and I had actually talked about having a child together, although neither one of us wanted to be married. We’d discussed hiring a nanny and getting our child into the best schools in New York, and we even kicked around names. Rosa was such a cool lady, I was convinced coparenting would have worked.
Lately, though, my business was growing by leaps and bounds, and I found myself spending more and more time on the road and longer evenings in the office when I was in New York. My company, XJI (Ex-Jocks Incorporated), had opened two more satellite offices and hired additional staff. We were battling the big sports agencies player