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Another one. This man is talking about another one while the first one ain’t even the size of a blueberry.
I come.
It hits so hard my head bangs back on the mirror and I don’t even feel it. My whole body seizes up. My pussy clamps down on him in hot, rolling waves, squeezing him so tight I feel him jerk inside me, and I’m screaming his name and holding on to his shoulders with everything I got.
He comes right behind me. Deep. Shoved in as far as he’ll go, holding there, his hand pressing down hard on my belly like he’s holding it in place. I feel every pulse. Thick and hot, filling me up, again. He don’t stop grinding into me till he’s done. Then he stays there.
I’m already pregnant. He doesn’t care.
* * *
When it’s over, I’m slumped back against the mirror, sweaty and wrecked, with his T-shirt on the floor and his ring on my hand and his cum running out of me on that marble.
I look at the tests. Then at him.
“I’m still mad at you,” I say. “About the ring.”
“I know.”
“And the Saturday thing.”
“I know.”
“And the sleeping thing. You gotta stop doing stuff to me while I’m asleep.”
“No.”
I close my eyes and let my head fall back against the mirror.
“I gotta tell my mama,” I whisper. “Oh my God. I’m gonna be somebody’s mama.”
* * *
I call her back from his bed, under the covers, with him lying next to me with his hand flat on my stomach. He won’t move it. I tried. It’s like moving a car.
“Mama.”
“What, baby? I’m packing.”
“Mama, I’m pregnant.”
Silence. Not long. One second.
“Mm-hm,” she says. “I know.”
I sit straight up in the bed. “What you mean, you know?”
“Child, I watched you come down my stairs.” Drawers. Hangers. Still packing. “You think I don’t know what a woman look like coming down the stairs after that?”
“Mama!”
Next to me, Sasha’s whole chest is shaking. He’s laughing. No sound. Face in my pillow.
“I’ma need a bigger shawl,” Mama says. “And tell that man the pie better be sweet potato. I’m not eating no Russian cake at my baby’s wedding.”
She hangs up on me. Again.
I lie back down and stare at the ceiling. At the little rainbows from my ring, dancing around up there like they got somewhere to be. At the fog burning off the water outside.
