Child Support

Chapter 1

As my phone danced on my cherrywood nightstand, I sat up in bed and looked over to see who was calling me. It was my mother. Every time she called, I was instantly annoyed. The bad part about it was she barely called me to begin with. I hesitated before answering.
"Yes, Mom?"

"Don't start with me, Angel. I just called to see if you took your medicine."

I rolled my eyes. I hated taking that medicine, and she knew it. What I hated most was her treating me as if I were a child.
"Yes, I took it," I answered, knowing I was lying
She hung up right after that.
My mother and I had drifted apart many years ago due to her feelings as though I had ruined her life. I didn't exactly know how I could have done that, but from the time I hit fifteen to the time I moved out of her house, she reminded me daily.
I hadn't taken my pills, so I decided to get up and do so. I went downstairs to get some ice water, and then I headed upstairs to my bathroom. I opened the cabinet and pulled out the two bottles of pills. I stared at them for a moment. I decided that I was going to take only one prescription, popping one of the bottles open.

I read, "Lithium is for manic depression. Use as prescribed by physician," as I did every time I decided to take my meds. I took the directed number of pills, guzzling them down.
My phone made a loud buzzing noise on my nightstand. I walked out of my bathroom and went to get it. I picked it up and saw that it was Pat.

I had met Pat at my daytime job. I was a secretary at a prestigious law firm in Chicago. After he's done a lot of begging and pleading, I decided to go out with him
"Miss Jacobs, why don't you l-l-let a nigga take y-y-you out tonight?" he'd asked.
I screwed my face up and replied, "No thanks." I tried my best to be polite and not tell him what I really thought, which was he was too damn big and I could not stand that stuttering.
"Why n-n-not? Y-y-you'll love it. I pr-pr-promise to treat you right,"he'd replied, trying to convince me.
I shook my head.
He jumped not would not take no for an answer.

I had told him I was about to jump in the shower and that I would call him once I was finished. As soon as I hung up with him, I went into the bathroom had passed, I stepped out of the shower and found myself standing in front of my full-body mirror, admiring my dripping wet body. I stared at my small frame. My flawless face and deep dimples simply made me a beauty. I touched my hair, which I had just gotten done. There was something about my healthy black hair that kept me feeling stunning. Although my shoulder-length hair had lost a few curls from the steam of the shower, it still looked good.
I heard my iPhone7 going off in my room, so I ran to get it. As expected, it was Pat.
"Yes?" I said with irritation. He had called me twenty minutes ago.
"You b-b-bout ready?" he stuttered.
I told him that I needed at least fifteen more minutes. He said, "Okay." And then we hung up.
"So damn annoying," I said aloud.
My phone rang again. I already knew it was Pat, so I picked up. "I'm coming out the door," I said and hung up. I knew at that moment that this would be our first and last date.
I entered my little sister's room to check on her. She wasn't there. I had totally forgotten that I had sent her off with my childhood best friend, Tiffany. I figured it was my meds that had made me forget; temporary memory loss was one of the side affects.
I shut her bedroom door and headed down the steps.
Pat was all smiles when I slide inside of his car. His 350-pound frame was overpowering his seat. His missing tooth almost made me throw up in my mouth. He put his hand on my thigh and rubbed it. I shot him an evil look, and he quickly removed it. We pulled off and headed our destination.
"So you gl-gl-glad you decided to come ch-ch-chill with a nigga?
In my head I said, HELL NAWH, but out my mouth I said, "yeah. So far, so good"
"I'm gonna t-t-take you to a five star restaurant since you a five st-st-star bitch," he said with a smile.
"Please don't call me out of my name,"    I said.
We ended up at Keefer's, a five-star steak house.
"Table for two?" the host asked us.
Pat shook his head as a young, perky Hispanic girl grabbed two menus and told us to follow her. We told her what we were drinking, and she was on her way.
I noticed a guy making his way into the restaurant and sat two table behind ours. He was wearing an expensive black suit and reading the Chicago Tribune. In my eyes, that said "Money" loud enough for me to hear.
I watched his every move and didn't pay Pat any kind of attention. I wanted to fuck the lights out of Mr. Expensive.
"Angel!" Pat yelled
I snapped. "What? Damn!"
We placed our orders and I continued to gaze at Mr. Expensive.
Soon as it was time to go me and Pat got up out of our seats and headed to the car so I can go home and get ready for my night job as a bartender at NightVision club as we sat in the car
"Y-y-you one disrespectful-ass b-b-bitch," he spat as soon as he managed to get in.
"Excuse me," was all I could say.
"Ex-ex-excuse you?  No, bitch, excuse me," he yelled as he drove away from the restaurant. He had called me one too many bitches, and that was where I drew the line. I started cursing back at him. After a lot of screaming and too much miscommunication, he stopped the car.
"Bitch, get out," he said loud and clear.
I twisted my face up. There was no way in hell I was getting out and was walking anywhere. I sat there. He threw his door open and climbed out of the car. He speedily came over to my side of the car. I had no time to think of locking the doors. He opened my door and tightly grabbed my arm. I was sure he left a mark.
"Get yo' muthafucking hands off of me!" I yelled.
He yanked me out of the car and lifted me in the air. He then placed me on the ground. After I landed on my ass, he headed back to the drivers side of his car. Cars slowly rolled past as they watched him embarrass the hell out of me.
I jumped up. "You stuttering bitch," I yelled at him. I was pissed and humiliated.
"Fuck you," he yelled back. He got in his car faster than he got out and sped off.
I looked down at my grass-stained jeans.  My vest and the back of my pants were muddy. It had rained the day before, and unfortunately, the grass was still very wet. A tear fell from my eyes as I picked my purse up from the ground. I opened it and retrieved my phone. It read 8:55 p.m. I had to hurry and get home. I had to be at my night job no later than 9:50. I had to make this 45 minute walk a 30 minute one.
It wasn't that I needed two jobs. I just enjoyed the money. I loved being independent and getting the things that I wanted. I rarely worked at my second job. In fact, I probably worked two weekends out of the month there, if that.
I began my long journey home with my head held low. I was beyond annoyed at the hooting and the hollering by the thirsty men that drove past, not to mention the eye-problem-having females that stared and glared as they sped past too. Already I could tell that this was going to be a long night.
A horn beeped behind me, so I cautiously turned around to see what car it had come from. It was a smoky-gray Bentley with tinted windows. I became skeptical as it pulled over to the side of the road. I was almost certain that it wasn't a serial killer or a rapist, being that they were riding in a 150,000-dollar car.
The car lights shine in my eyes. I covered the glare with my hand. Reluctantly, I walked to the car. When I got to the drivers side window, I wondered who could be sitting on the other side of it. The window rolled down slowly. The smell of Black Ice car freshener escaped the car. To my surprise, it was Mr. Expensive pushing this whip. Something told me that the brother was paid... but damn!
"Now, I know I just seen you with a guy. What happened?"
I stood there wondering if I should tell him the truth or make up something.