Still nothing.
“I’ll shootthe door handle off.”
Nothing.I wait a few minutes and tug on the handle again. Keyshawn doesn’t come to her senses.Fine.I walk back out to the kitchen, crouch down to the lower cabinet in my kitchen island and pull out my pistol safe and earmuffs. Firing a weapon like that inside could fuck my hearing up for the next few hours, if not for life…
I approach my bedroom door once I load the gun, keeping one earmuff off so I can hear what the hell is going on inside and give Keyshawn one last chance to find the right path.
“Keyshawn,if you don’t open this door, I’m going to shoot the handle. On the count of three…”
I put my ear muffs on and count loudly. (I can barely hear my muffled voice, but I can feel the vibrations in my chest.) She can definitely hear me, which is what matters. Not like she’s changing her behavior to suit the situation.
1…
2…
3…
“COVER YOUR EARS!”
The door handleexplodes and wood chips fly everywhere from the first shot. A few splinters come flying at my chest, but bounce off my torso onto the ground.There.The door swings back and forth a few times before I walk through to find Keyshawn, ears covered, glaring at me.
I take my earmuffs off and she uncovers her ears.
“You are apsycho,” she yells at me. Clearly, her DIY earmuff job wasn’t completely effective.
“Yes, I am!” I yell back. “And this psycho is taking your ass to the doctor next week.”
“I’m PREGNANT!” Keyshawn yells, throwing one of my pillows straight at my head. She’s a pretty good shot and I have to hit the pillow out of the way.
“I know that! That’s why I’m trying to look after your crazy ass.”
She folds her arms, fury written all over her face.
“A doctor’s sole purpose on this earth is to abuse and mistreat black women, and I will not be a part of it.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“You don’t understand my past, my community oranythingabout who I am Deacon. I’m just some sick fantasy you have enough money and power to bring to life.”
She’s wrong about me, but I can tell that Keyshawn is 100% earnest in her emotions here. I might think it’s crazy, but telling her that will only make the situation worse. I want to understand her, but I also know there is no way in hell I’m letting this woman go through an entire pregnancy without visiting a doctor.
I try to offer her that understanding despite my frustration that Keyshawn won’t be immediately obedient. “You’re afraid.”
“Yes!” she yells. “You justshotthe door because I wouldn’t unlock it.”
I shrug and set my pistol down on the side table, trying to scare her a little less.
“First, it’s my bedroom. Second, if the most precious woman in the world to me is behind any door, I’ll do anything to break that door down.”
“Whatever.”
“Not all doctors are racist. And I have never known any doctor to abuse or mistreat any black women.”
“Really? How many black women do you know, Deacon?”
The redness around my ears spreads across my face. She is so fucking difficult, but the more I unravel about Keyshawn, the more I discover. She started as a hot set of lips, but after all this time, she’s clearly more than that.
“I don’t know what to tell you, Keyshawn. We need to look after the baby.”