Page 49 of Her Baby His Gift

“Not a problem. If you don’t mind, I’d like some alone time with Damian too.”

Harlem couldn’t help but notice that unlike yesterday, Carter looked a little more stressed. Her heart didn’t just ache for herself, but it hurt for him too. She hadn’t shared many moments with Carter and wasn’t used to seeing him in this state. She’d only known Carter to be carefree. Harlem could tell that he carried a lot of weight on his shoulders. She was lucky to have family and friends to share her burden. Carter had . . . Elaina. Harlem hoped that Elaina was the support that Carter needed.

*****

Carter and Harlem stopped by the florist before they made the short drive over to the cemetery. Neither said much. The tension in the car grew thicker the closer they came to where Damian was buried.

Finally, the car stopped. Carter didn’t cut the engine because it was too cold.

Harlem glanced out of the window. The sky mirrored how she felt. It ranged from a mid-gray to a dirty white as large, fluffy snowflakes began to fall. “We’re here.” She said in a pain-filled voice.

Carter didn’t respond.

“I see they put down the headstone.” Harlem wasn’t really speaking to Carter.

She was only a few short steps away from her final goodbye. Her eyes started to glisten. Her voice was a barely-there whisper. “Do you want to go first?”

Carter cleared his throat. “If you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.” It would give her just a little more time to get her thoughts together.

Carter opened the door, and a gust of cold wind came inside. Harlem wasn’t sure if it was possible to be any colder. She was chilled from the inside out. He closed the door, and she watched him walk over to the gravesite.

Carter stood in front of Damian’s headstone before placing a single white rose on top of it. He read the inscription,In Loving Memory of Damian Jamal Fox. You are always in our hearts. You left us too soon, but we’ll love you forever.

“This is not how we were supposed to be spending your Birthday.” Carter glanced up towards the cloudy sky. He needed the cold from the snow to help him get through this moment. After he’d gathered himself, he continued with his conversation. “These past couple of months have been hell. Half the time, I don’t know if I’m coming or going. One minute, I want to call you just to chop it up, and the next, I want to punch you in the face. You left me in an impossible situation. You told me tolive. You told me tothrive. You even had the gall to tell me to make a life with Harlem. You said that she would be the perfect wife for me. Never mind the fact that I would feel like I was betraying you or that YOU were the only thing she and I had in common. I couldn’t imagine doing that, so I found my own version of the perfect woman. You remember Elaina Robins? Probably not. I only mentioned her once or twice. We dated casually but got serious . . .” His voice trailed off, “after you got sick. I think you’d like her. She’s all the things we discussed a good woman should be. The problem is, now that you’ve planted seeds of a romance in my head, I’m now having x-rated dreams about her. That was a fucked up thing to do. Just like making me a father when you know, I had no desire to be one. I don’t want to mess up another human being. You played God with my life andhers. As if all of this isn’t fucked up enough, you mailed a letter that just arrived a few days ago to give to Harlem for today. If you were alive, I’d . . .” Carter gritted his teeth. Emotionally exhausted, he dropped his head to his chest. “I’d hug you so damn hard. Damn, man. You were my only real family.” Carter sighed. “I have no earthly idea of what I’m doing, but I can promise you this, I’ll always make sure that both Harlem and the baby are well taken care of.” He ran a hand down his face. “You know she is not going to make it easy.” Carter released a long and heavy sigh. “The gang sends their love. They wanted to be here but understood the need for Harlem and me to have this time.” Carter paused for a while. “Do me a favor, try not to raise too much hell up there without me–until we meet again.” Carter placed his hand on the cold headstone for a few moments before finally backing away. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and walked back over to the car, and got inside.

It was evident by the look on his face that Carter was emotionally spent. Harlem felt it was best to leave him alone with his thoughts. They could support one another, but they both had to figure out a way to reconcile their feelings on their own. Harlem was just about to open her door to get out when Carter stopped her. “Wait . . .I have something to give you."

Harlem looked confused. Carter reached over her and into the glove compartment. He opened it and pulled out a letter. “He asked me to give you this.”

Slowly, Harlem looked down at the letter Carter was holding. She didn’t have to read who it was from. Harlem would recognize Damian’s handwriting anywhere. With shaky hands, she took the envelope. “How long have you had this?”

“It arrived a couple of days ago. Damian sent me one too. In my letter, he asked that I give it to you on his birthday.”

Harlem’s throat locked up. She couldn’t form words. Instead, she opened the door of the car and got out. She needed the blast of cold to keep her body from going completely numb. It was vital for her to feel all the hurt, the anger, and pain if she were truly going to heal.

Harlem sucked in a deep breath and took the short walk to where Damian had been laid to rest. She held the dozen white roses she’d purchased from the florist in a death grip. It was jarring to see Damian’s headstone for the very first time. She stared at it for a while. Then, bending low to place her flowers into the beautiful bronze vase that was left at the base of his headstone for this very purpose. Slowly, she stood. Her hand caressed his name that was etched into the stone. “Happy Birthday. You always knew how to throw me off balance. I kind of had a whole speech prepared.” Harlem’s hands shook, and it had nothing to do with the cold. She released a humorless laugh. “You talked about my planning skills. I’m going to say, you have one-upped me in that department.” With trembling fingers, Harlem opened the letter.

Hey Beautiful,

Thank you for the white roses. I know you only give those to people that you really care about. This is the hardest letter I’ve ever had to write. You’re only reading it because I’m no longer physically with you.

Having you in my life has been the greatest gift anyone has ever given me. The way you cared for me at the end. You were amazing. Not many women would wipe a grown man’s ass when he couldn’t wipe it himself. Thank you for being so selfless and loyal. You taught me so much, but nothing more important than about family and love. Unfortunately, I learned some of those lessons too late.

There’s so much I want to say, so much I need to apologize for. But before I get into that, I want you to know that you’re the only woman who ever gave me butterflies. I knew the moment I saw you that it was a wrap for anyone else, and I was determined to make you mine. After six years, you wanted marriage, and I wanted a child, but we both wanted them for the wrong reasons. I didn’t doubt our commitment to one another, but we both knew something was missing between us. My guess is your need to get married was a way to fix it. My desire to have a baby came from the same place. If I had the strength, I would have let you go to find the love of your life.

Here comes the hard part, I knew I was dying before we started in-vitro. It’s the reason why I came up with this crazy scheme to get the two people I love the most together. It wasn’t until after I started to get sick and you found out you were pregnant that I realized I was wrong. I had no right to make these decisions for you, but please understand that I thought her baby was his gift–a baby for you to love and a baby to give Carter life. He would stop going through the motions of life, and you would stop living according to your lists and plans. My guess is children won’t allow you to do that.

I’m sorry that I lied and hid my diagnosis from you. There is not enough I’m sorry’s in the world to justify my actions. I wrongly took it upon myself to think I knew what was best for everyone after I was gone.

I knew that my death would be hard on you and that Carter would have the most difficult time adjusting. He’s alone. His family is shit, and for people like him and me, being vulnerable with our inner feelings is nearly impossible. That was the thing we had in common. I also realized that you and Carter have a chemistry that isn’t easy to find between two people. If we’re honest, it’s a chemistry you and I never shared. I know I shouldn’t say this, but if you both let down your guards, you might realize it too. Maybe you could even help each other heal.

Finally, my letter's purpose is to do in death what I couldn’t do in life–let you go and help you let me go. I know you’re angry, but when that dissipates, please don’t allow your loyalty to me to prevent you from moving forward. Please don’t carry the guilt of not being in love with me haunt you. You’ve always had a little trouble dealing with things when they didn’t go according to your carefully crafted plans. But know this . . . you’re going to be an amazing mother, and Carter will be an incredible father.

I pray that one day you will both forgive me. My intentions were pure, and if I had to do it all over again, I’d do it differently. I only wanted you both to live and thrive. But . . . wouldn’t it be wild if you and Carter did fall in love and raised the baby together?

Harlem Denise Thomas, I will always love you. Always.

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