Fool That I Am Page 4

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The rest of the week went by in a daze for Billie. It was like that kiss with Sam had knocked her world off its axis and she couldn’t get her equilibrium back. When she wasn’t daydreaming and remembering every detail of that moment, she was anxiously picking up her phone to see if he had called or texted. At least a dozen times a day, she would convince herself to contact him, but she always chickened out. Her emotions were all over the place; one moment she was wildly hopeful and optimistic, and the next she was despondent and depressed.

  After several days of this behavior, Connie finally cornered her after work one day and demanded an explanation. Billie finally confessed all and told her everything that had happened with Sam on Monday night. By the time she was done telling her all about their fight and the surprise kiss, Connie was comically agog.

  “Oh, my God, linda! He finally kissed you? Did you put the moves on him like I been telling you to? Girl, you got to lock that shit down. You call him tonight and get him back in your house and don’t let him leave until you are both sweaty and exhausted,” she advised Billie as she refreshed her eyeliner in front of the mirror in the women’s restroom.

  Billie shook her head sadly. “You don’t understand, Con. He apologized for kissing me. Then he said it would never happen again. And then he said ‘goodbye’. As in, forever. No matter how hard I try to imagine that he meant it differently, I’ve known Sam long enough to understand what he meant.”

  Pulling a tube of dark red lipstick out of her purse, Connie studied her reflection carefully before applying a fresh layer and rubbing her lips back and forth to even it out. “Listen, Billie, I’m going to tell you some hard truths, okay? You have two options here. One, you can be una gran chica and call the man and talk to him about this. I never seen two people in love with each other who act so estupido. Two, you can forget all about him and move on to someone else. Why keep putting yourself through all this drama? There are so many men out there and you are too pretty to waste on a man sin los huevos.”

  Billie cocked her head in confusion. Sometimes it was difficult to follow Connie when she was talking this fast. Many times, the fiery Latina woman didn’t even realize that Spanish words were mixing in with her English which caused Billie no end of misunderstandings. For the past two years, Connie had been giving Billie frequent lessons to supplement her hazy memory from three years of high school Spanish, but sometimes Connie would slip in a slang term that completely threw her for a loop.

  “Why would I care if Sam has eggs or not?” Billie asked, completely side-tracked.

  For a moment, Connie looked as confused as Billie felt. Then she realized what Billie meant. “Oh, you know! Huevos o pelotas?” At Billie’s continued look of puzzlement, Connie sighed dramatically and grabbed her crotch. “Cajónes! Balls! Testicles! Ay, Dios Mío, Billie! You act like I don’t even speak English!”

  Billie scowled at her friend in the mirror. “You weren’t speaking English! At least, not all of it,” she grumbled, absently biting her thumbnail.

  Smacking Billie’s hand away from her mouth, Connie went on, “You can pout and cry like a little baby or you can be a woman and do something about it. If he don’t want you, then there are others out there that do. All you have to do, mija, is go get it. Any woman can be sexy and have the men panting after them like a dog. You know the secret? It is confidence. You are already so beautiful, so your work is half done. Just remember one thing: you have the pussy, you have the power.”

  Billie flinched at Connie’s blunt words. “That’s easy to say, but hard to do. It seems to come natural to you. You walk around like everyone’s eyes are on you and you enjoy it, but it just freaks me out.”

  Connie packed her makeup back in her purse and slung it over her shoulder. Turning to face her friend, she explained, “I had to learn it like everyone else, girl. You know what I do? I pretend that I am in a movie and my theme song is on in the background. Right now, when I walk, I hear ‘La Tortura’ by Shakira. It gives my hips a pop and I am aware of my body and how it moves. The music doesn’t just make me feel sexy….it lets me know I am sexy.”

  “I don’t know, Connie. The only music I hear when I walk right now is ‘Heartbreak Hotel’ by Elvis. Sometimes, I really do feel so lonely I could die,” Billie confessed morosely.

  Together, they walked out of the restroom and left the building to walk to their cars. The November air had turned brisk and moist with the promise of chilly rain in the air. Billie pulled her jacket tight over her Care Bears scrubs and shivered, but Connie was still too worked up about her topic to feel the chill.

  Pausing before entering her car, she called over to Billie, “What you need is a good makeover, linda. I will bring the girls to your house Friday night and we will help you bring your sexy back, okay?”

  Billie laughed for the first time in days and felt her heart lighten fractionally. “That sounds like more of a threat than a treat, but what the heck. I’m putty in your beautifully manicured hands.”

  Connie blew her a kiss, bundled into her spotless red Honda Civic, and sped off down the road. Billie, still shaking her head in amusement, slid into her wrecked, rebuilt Dodge Stratus and heaved a sigh as her gas light came on. She only had $20 left until payday in two more days, so she headed to the gas station to hand it over.

  By the time she made it home with the kids, she was physically and mentally exhausted. Stress over bills and lack of money coupled with her anxiety over Sam caused a headache to bloom behind her eyes. Could she really forget about him and move on? For the past five years, she had been hung up on him, daydreamed about him, lusted after him, and been in love with him. How do you let something like that go?

  “Find someone new,” she whispered to her reflection in the mirror while getting ready for bed. It was time to let this fantasy die and grab hold of reality. He would never betray his best friend by taking up with his ex-wife and that was the harsh truth. She deserved a man who loved her and her kids and was willing to give her all of himself. Sam was too honorable to ever cross that line, so she had no choice but to find someone else who would.

  As she settled into bed and turned out the light, bitter tears coursed down her face. Just for tonight, she promised herself. She would only cry this one time and then she would move forward. She had no choice. She couldn’t keep living in misery and longing for something she could never have. So she cried until her head ached, her nose was clogged, and her eyes were swollen. She cried until there was nothing left to do but fall asleep. Tomorrow was a new day and she had to live it without Sam.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Friday evening, Sam pulled in to the parking lot of Chad’s townhouse hoping to see the kids and to also share the burden of the news that Renata had dropped in his lap like a ticking time bomb. His head was still reeling from that phone call six days ago and his stomach roiled all over again just thinking about it. The absolute last person he wanted to raise a child with would have been Renata. She may have been beautiful and intelligent, but she was also grasping and looking for a man to take care of her so she didn’t have to work. Once he had figured that out, he had broken up with her.

  With a perfunctory knock, Sam let himself in the door of Chad’s apartment to see his friend and Derrick sprawled on the couch playing the newest PS3 game that was just released on Tuesday. Sam knew good and well that the game cost $60 and he tried not to be annoyed at Chad for buying it when he knew that B.J. was struggling just to put food on the table.

  “Hey, man! Come on in and take a load off,” Chad called out, not even taking his eyes off the screen.

  Derrick shot him a quick grin in greeting and continued to push buttons in fierce concentration. Playing video games was one of the only things he had in common with his dad, so Sam knew that the boy was too engrossed to stop now.

  Looking around the room, Sam replied, “Where’s Lola?”

  Chad continued to keep playing for several moments before he finally answered, “Upsta
irs in their room, I guess. I turned her TV on up there.”

  Sam bit back a comment, took his jacket off, and took the stairs two at a time until he arrived at the landing and could peek in the little room. Since there were only two bedrooms in this unit, Derrick and Lola had to share a room, but Sam had done his best to make sure they each felt like they had their own space. He knew that an eleven year old boy and a four year old girl had nothing in common, so he had secured permission from the landlord to make minor modifications. Chad, as was his custom, had waved him on with no help or effort on his part.

  Since he knew that Derrick would want more privacy, he installed a bracket on each wall and hung a long, round wooden rod straight down the middle of the room from left to right. Then he had commissioned a drapery shop to custom-make a thick curtain, split in the middle, with purple fabric on the front side and black fabric on the back. This divided the room in half and allowed the kids to have their own space without getting on each other’s nerves too badly.

  Lola was sitting in front of her TV, which was blaring Lilo and Stitch, while playing pretend with her stuffed animals. Sam couldn’t contain his grin as he watched her quietly for a moment. It was remarkable how much she looked like Chad. They both had the same blonde curly hair and bright blue eyes that acted as a magnet to draw people in, but Lola had her mother’s smile.

  “Pssst. Hey, little monkey, what are you doing?” Sam asked, finally capturing her attention.

  A look of pure joy came over her face as she jumped up and ran straight for him. Sam scooped her up, held her tight, and inhaled deeply so he could capture the scent of her shampoo and Billie’s home.

  “Uncle Sam!” she squealed happily. “Did you come to play with me and have a tea party?”

  Sam’s insides melted under the big, innocent gaze fixed on his face. He knew she got lonely when she visited her dad because Chad didn’t know how to relate to the little girl and Derrick was busy trying to win his dad’s affection.

  He tweaked her nose and replied, “You better believe I did. Got any cookies to go with that tea?”

  Taking him by the hand, she led him over to her group of toys and immediately began to talk his ear off. Thankfully, she never required much from him in the way of a reply, except for the occasional nod, smile, or minor exclamation.

  An hour later, Derrick walked into the bedroom to see Uncle Sam very patiently helping Lola put together a Tinkerbell puzzle. The boy smile crookedly and said, “Hey, Sam. Dad says to send you downstairs. I’ll take over playing with Lola for a while.”

  Sam gently extricated himself from the sticky grasp of the little girl, kissed her on the head, and clapped Derrick on the back on his way out of the room. After jogging down the steps easily, making sure to duck his head on the low overhang, Sam met up with Chad in the tiny kitchen of the little townhouse.

  “I think I’m going to order some pizzas. You wanna chip in?” Chad asked as he twisted the cap off a beer.

  Sam rolled his eyes and pulled out his wallet. If he didn’t give him the money now, Chad would just wait until the pizza showed up and then ask Sam to “front him” some money and then never pay him back. Sam didn’t mind it too much. He made good money as the foreman in a large construction company and he didn’t have many bills, so he was happy to spread the wealth around. Unfortunately, Chad knew this all too well and never hesitated to take advantage of Sam’s generosity.

  Throwing $40 down on the counter, he replied, “Yeah, I’ll take whatever, but make sure you order those cheese sticks that Lola loves and no mushrooms on Derrick’s half.”

  Chad shot him a peeved look as he dialed the pizza place’s number. “Dude, I know he’s allergic to mushrooms. I’m his dad, remember? Besides, do you really think Billie would ever let me forget it?”

  “Whatever, man. Just order the fucking cheese sticks, too.” He didn’t know why, but his temper was getting really short with Chad. They’d been best friends since at least third grade, but over the past few years, he had felt them growing apart.

  After Chad finished the order and hung up the phone, he offered a beer to Sam and asked, “So, what’s been going on lately? I haven’t seen you in a few weeks. Actually, it was the last time the kids were here, if I’m not mistaken. You better be careful, dude, or I’m gonna get a complex.” Chad laughed lightly as he lit the end of a cigarette and blew a lungful of smoke into the air.

  “Hey, open the window! You know you’re not supposed to smoke around Derrick with his asthma,” Sam reminded him, scowling.

  “Jesus! What are you, my mom or something?” Chad bit back. Walking a few steps over to the sink, he flipped the lock and opened the window to let the cool November breeze carry the smoke out through the screen. “I was going to open it, anyway. Quit being such a dick. Who pissed in your Wheaties this morning?”

  Sam took a deep breath for patience and ran his hand through his glossy, black hair. “I’m sorry, man. I’ve had a rough few weeks. We’ve been working overtime on a new project out in Bardstown, and to top it off, I got some really bad news a few days ago.”

  Taking a deep drag off the cigarette and blowing the smoke toward the window, Chad replied, “Yeah? What happened?”

  “You know Renata and I broke up a few weeks ago, right?” At his friend’s nod of affirmation, he continued. “Well, she just called me this past Monday night to tell me she’s pregnant.”

  Chad had been in the middle of another draw on his cigarette, but this news had him coughing and choking in shock. Finally, after several minutes of hacking and multiple swallows of beer, he was able to wheeze, “Fuck, dude! You have got to be kidding me!”

  Sam shook his head wearily. “I wish I was, but she was hysterical about it. She kept insisting that I had to marry her and make it right. I told her that it wasn’t 1950 and that I would support the baby and pay the bills, but that marriage wasn’t on the table. I also told her she wouldn’t see a dime until I saw the results of a paternity test.”

  Chad, looking pale and sweaty after his bout of coughing, replied, “That’s kind of harsh, don’t you think? Why would you think it isn’t yours?”

  “Two reasons. First, Renata was a major flirt and enjoyed the attention that men showered on her and I wouldn’t put it past her to have been cheating on me. And second, I always wear a condom, even if the chick says she’s on birth control. I’m not a sucker and I’ve heard of too many horror stories where men were trapped in that situation,” he explained, collapsing into the wire frame chair at the kitchen table.

  “Well, you’ll have to wait until after it’s born to do a paternity test, right? You’re not going to help her with her bills for the whole pregnancy?” Chad asked, lighting another cigarette and taking a deep drag.

  Sam started peeling the paper off the bottle of beer and tried not to think about the headache creeping up the back of his skull. “I hate being such a douchebag about this, but I just have this feeling that it’s not my baby. If I wait until the kid is born to do the test, then I’ll being paying through the nose for nine months. I did some checking online and found out that they can do prenatal DNA testing now that’s non-invasive by using the mother’s blood. I told her if she wanted me take care of her, she would have to submit to that test.”

  Chad was silent for a moment, deep in thought. Finally, he shook his head and said, “That’s got to be expensive, dude. If you’re so sure it’s not your kid, why are you willing to pay for a test like this?”

  “Because it will be a drop in the bucket compared to what she will expect of the father of her baby. You’re right about it being expensive, too. The test will cost me at least $1700 at the location in Louisville, but they can do the test as early as her ninth week. According to her, she’s already about six weeks along, but she’s refusing to submit to the test until after Christmas. The fact that she’s stalling for time already tells me that she’s not 100% positive of the results,” Sam explained.

  Chad put out his cigarette by running the
faucet over it and throwing the wet butt away. “I think this calls for something a little stronger than beer,” he said, opening a cabinet and pulling out a bottle of Maker’s Mark. Pouring two fingers each in two glasses, he handed one of them to Sam before taking a large swallow of his own. This led to more coughing and eye-watering, but he immediately tossed back the rest of it while Sam took a more moderate sip.

  “Thanks, man. I needed that,” Sam told him, taking another bracing drink of the whiskey and feeling it burn down his throat. “It’s going to be a very long two months.”

  The doorbell rang, announcing the arrival of the pizza man. As Chad passed by Sam, he clapped him on the shoulder and muttered, “I don’t know, dude. I have a feeling it’s going to fly by before you know it.”

  **************************************************************

  Billie sat on her bed and viewed the motley assortment of women currently taking up space in her small bedroom. Connie, Irene, and Jessica were all discussing her as if she wasn’t there as they looked through the contents of her closet and pulled out different items of clothing.

  “We need something sexy for Billie to wear. She’s not going to church, Yessica!” Connie berated her coworker as Jessica held up a button-down pink blouse.

  Shooting her a dirty look, the petite, round woman replied, “Well, there’s a difference between sexy and slutty, Connie! Not surprisingly, you don’t seem to know the difference!”

  An outraged gasp escaped Connie’s mouth. “No me jodas, Yessica, or I will tell your husband that you been flirting with that drug rep that brings you the chocolates, okay? I don’t got to listen to your shit tonight!”

  Jessica puffed up her massive chest and bumped the slender Latina lady back a few steps. “You say one word about that to Jason and I will wipe the floor with you, J Lo! And I’ve told you a thousand times not to cuss me in Spanish. You wanna cuss me, you better make sure I understand every word, okay?” she mocked her snidely.