Read Online Every Reasonable Doubt by Pamela Samuels-Young - Free Book Online
Authors: Pamela Samuels-Young
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anger. “I thought you had your priorities in order after leaving Brandon & Bass. But it looks like our marriage is being pushed off to the side again.”
“That’s not true.” I didn’t want to look at him, so I picked up one of the Styrofoam containers and dumped more green beans onto my plate even though I had lost my appetite. I wanted to run from the room, or maybe even the house.
“Sure seems like it to me.” He marched back over to the table and sat down again.
“I don’t want to argue, Jefferson.”
“We’re not arguing. This is a discussion.”
I inhaled. “Having a baby is a big decision. It’s my body that’s going to blow up like an elephant for nine months. It’s my life that’s going to change.”
“You know I’ll be there helping you every step of the way.”
“Yeah, like when I’m having morning sickness and I have a brief to write, a deposition to take and a client to interview. I’m sure you’ll be right there feeling all my pain.”
“So it is all about the job,” he said accusingly.
“No, it isn’t. But you act like I can just walk away from what I do. We need two paychecks to pay the mortgage on this house.”
My statement was not intended to say he wasn’t an adequate provider, but the quick flinch of his left eye told me he had interpreted it that way.
“So you’re saying you’d quit your job if I could handle paying all the bills? Because if that’s what it takes, I can make it happen. The rental income from the duplex in Gardena my grandmother left me could easily cover your half of the mortgage.”
“I’m not quitting my job, Jefferson,” I said. “I didn’t go to law school so I could stay home and bake cookies.”
“Nobody’s asking you to stay home and bake cookies. Anyway, you told me your firm gives you four months paid maternity leave. So, it’s not about the money then, is it?”
When the hell did I tell you that? And why did I tell you that?
“Jefferson, I can’t make a life-changing decision like this overnight. Just give me some time.”
“I’m not asking you to make a decision overnight.” The way his nostrils flared told me he was getting even more upset. “We’ve been talking about this for months, except every time I bring it up, you want to put it off. Well, we ain’t putting it off any longer.”
I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen him this mad. I didn’t like where this conversation was going. It would be a mistake for either one of us to put an ultimatum on the table. “Jefferson, I just need some time,” I pleaded.
“Okay, you want time, how much time do you need? We don’t have a lot of time to play with. You’re 32, I’m 36. I want to be able to enjoy my kids while I’m still young.”
I pushed my plate away. The pungent odor of the food was suddenly making me nauseous. “I know lots of women who have babies in their forties,” I said.
His body tensed. “I’m not waiting eight years to be a father.” His statement sounded like a threat.
“I’m not asking you to wait that long. I just—”
“Just forget it.” He got up from the table and headed for the den. “Take all the time you need.”
I followed after him and joined him on the couch. I tried to find the words to make him understand my point of view, but before I could speak, the telephone rang. It was Special.
“Girl, can you believe it? That woman murdered her fine-ass husband!”
“What are you talking about?”
“The wife of that rich, fine-ass Max Montgomery. They just showed her on TV. They brought her in for questioning in her husband’s death. And I just know she did it. That boy was a big time ho. He even tried to hit on me once. I was at this pool party up in Bel Air and I was wearing these shocking pink hot pants and he—”
“Wait,” I said, running into the bedroom to turn on the TV. I hoped Jefferson didn’t follow me. This was not the way I wanted him to find out about the Montgomery case.
It seemed to take forever
“That’s not true.” I didn’t want to look at him, so I picked up one of the Styrofoam containers and dumped more green beans onto my plate even though I had lost my appetite. I wanted to run from the room, or maybe even the house.
“Sure seems like it to me.” He marched back over to the table and sat down again.
“I don’t want to argue, Jefferson.”
“We’re not arguing. This is a discussion.”
I inhaled. “Having a baby is a big decision. It’s my body that’s going to blow up like an elephant for nine months. It’s my life that’s going to change.”
“You know I’ll be there helping you every step of the way.”
“Yeah, like when I’m having morning sickness and I have a brief to write, a deposition to take and a client to interview. I’m sure you’ll be right there feeling all my pain.”
“So it is all about the job,” he said accusingly.
“No, it isn’t. But you act like I can just walk away from what I do. We need two paychecks to pay the mortgage on this house.”
My statement was not intended to say he wasn’t an adequate provider, but the quick flinch of his left eye told me he had interpreted it that way.
“So you’re saying you’d quit your job if I could handle paying all the bills? Because if that’s what it takes, I can make it happen. The rental income from the duplex in Gardena my grandmother left me could easily cover your half of the mortgage.”
“I’m not quitting my job, Jefferson,” I said. “I didn’t go to law school so I could stay home and bake cookies.”
“Nobody’s asking you to stay home and bake cookies. Anyway, you told me your firm gives you four months paid maternity leave. So, it’s not about the money then, is it?”
When the hell did I tell you that? And why did I tell you that?
“Jefferson, I can’t make a life-changing decision like this overnight. Just give me some time.”
“I’m not asking you to make a decision overnight.” The way his nostrils flared told me he was getting even more upset. “We’ve been talking about this for months, except every time I bring it up, you want to put it off. Well, we ain’t putting it off any longer.”
I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen him this mad. I didn’t like where this conversation was going. It would be a mistake for either one of us to put an ultimatum on the table. “Jefferson, I just need some time,” I pleaded.
“Okay, you want time, how much time do you need? We don’t have a lot of time to play with. You’re 32, I’m 36. I want to be able to enjoy my kids while I’m still young.”
I pushed my plate away. The pungent odor of the food was suddenly making me nauseous. “I know lots of women who have babies in their forties,” I said.
His body tensed. “I’m not waiting eight years to be a father.” His statement sounded like a threat.
“I’m not asking you to wait that long. I just—”
“Just forget it.” He got up from the table and headed for the den. “Take all the time you need.”
I followed after him and joined him on the couch. I tried to find the words to make him understand my point of view, but before I could speak, the telephone rang. It was Special.
“Girl, can you believe it? That woman murdered her fine-ass husband!”
“What are you talking about?”
“The wife of that rich, fine-ass Max Montgomery. They just showed her on TV. They brought her in for questioning in her husband’s death. And I just know she did it. That boy was a big time ho. He even tried to hit on me once. I was at this pool party up in Bel Air and I was wearing these shocking pink hot pants and he—”
“Wait,” I said, running into the bedroom to turn on the TV. I hoped Jefferson didn’t follow me. This was not the way I wanted him to find out about the Montgomery case.
It seemed to take forever
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