| to do this? Is this the out you’ve been waiting for? That’s the real question. I tell you that I don’t know my daddy and you’re having second thoughts about our whole relationship? Look, I didn’t tell you because it didn’t have anything to do with us.” “There’s something wrong with you,” she said. Her face in the streaked mirror was wide awake and angry. “See,” I said. “This is why I didn’t want to tell you. So now what? You feel like you don’t know me because you don’t know my exact genetic profile? What kind of bourgie shit is that?” “The issue is that you didn’t tell me. I don’t care that you don’t know who your daddy is.” “I didn’t say that I didn’t know who he is. What are you trying to say about my mother? That she didn’t know who she was pregnant for? Really, Celestial? You want to go there?” “Don’t flip the script on semantics,” Celestial said. “You’re the one who kept a secret the size of Alaska.” “What is there to tell you? My real daddy is Othaniel Jenkins. That’s all I got. So now you know everything I know. That’s a secret as big as Alaska? More like Connecticut. Rhode Island, maybe.” “Don’t twist this around,” she said. “Look,” I said. “Have some sympathy. Olive wasn’t even seventeen yet. He took advantage of her. He was a grown man.” “I’m talking about me and you. We are married. Married. I don’t |
door. Under the hot shower, I preferred not to use Dre’s soap, but the only other option smelled like flowers and peaches. I cleaned my whole body, taking my time, sitting on the side of the tub, scrubbing the bottoms of my feet and between my toes. I squeezed some more soap and used it on my hair, rinsing myself in water so hot it hurt. Then I dressed myself in my own clothes bought with my own money. When I got to the kitchen, she had positioned the plates and glasses in front of the chairs that we never used to use. “Good morning,” I said again, watching her pour batter onto the waffle iron. “Sleep well?” Celestial’s face was bare, but she wore a dress made out of sweater material that made her look like she was going out. “Actually, I did.” Then the hopeful rottweiler puppy started his thing again. “Thank you for asking.” She served waffles, bacon fried crisp, and a fruit cup. She made my coffee black with three spoons of sugar. When we were still normal, we sometimes ate brunch at trendy restaurants, especially in the summer. Celestial wore tight sundresses and flowers braided into her hair. With my eyes on my wife, I would tell the waitress that I liked my coffee like I liked my women, “black and sweet.” This always got me a smile. Then Celestial would say, “I like my mimosa like I like my men: transparent.” Before we ate |
