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bestfriend, or get her pregnant. Matter of fact, he wouldn't dare look at another woman the way he does me."

 

Tamarah furrowed her brows, "You sure about that?"

 

Denise smiled, unflinching, "Yes, Jordan loves me way too much for that. He's not like that."

 

"...That must be nice." Tamarah sighed, wistfully. Just then, the door opened and Angela Grey entered the house.

 

 "Hi Tamarah." Her mother greeted. 

 

"Hi mom.Mrs..." Tamarah started, but her mother, interrupted her as she hung her purse on the coat rack near the front door. "You and I need to talk. We need to discuss the little doopsie you got yourself into." 

 

"Mom, Mrs...."

 

"i know you aren't going to like what I have to say, but it's crucial that you look at your future." Angela continued, taking off her purple pumps and placing them in the small cubicle area next to the kitchen, where she kept her most recent shoes. That night, she'd take them upstairs as usual and place them in her closet. 

 

"Mom, please..." Tamarah started again. However, Mrs. Grey was not trying to listen, she kept on with her spill. "Tamarah you have your whole life ahead of you..."

 

"Mrs. Grey, I believe your daughter is trying to let you know that you have a visitor." Denise stated, her voice strong and loud. Angela turned from her position near the fridge, where she'd been about to open it and looked over at Mrs. Williams, who stared back at her, her long hair pulled into a pony tail, her dark skin flawless and free of makeup.

 

Her eyes were dark and irritated as she glanced up at Angela. Angela's face broke out into a smile, "Mrs. Williams. Oh, my I didn't realize that you were here." As she walked up to her Angela thought she could stand to use a little lipstick and hairstyle to help with her appearance.

 

She couldn't believe she'd stepped out the house the way she had, dressed in a pair of cooloxs short and matching shirt. It was such an out dated fashion.

 

Angela sighed, "Hello, Mrs. Williams, I didn't see you there. What do we owe this visit too?" 

 

"I just came over to give Tamarah some encouragement. Considering her predicament." Denise stated.

 

"Encouragement? How can you encourage a teenage pregnancy Mrs. Williams? If she were your daughter, would you be so studious regarding something conceived so foolhardy?" 

 

Denise raised a brow. "Angela, I'm sure that you were a teenager before. You know this is a period of learning and growth. Tamarah had not been thinking clearly. Teenagers make mistakes."

 

Angela's head tiled upward, as she crossed her arms over one another and her gaze condescending to Tamarah. "As a teenager, I would never have engaged in the behaviors that she'd involved herself in. Getting drunk at parties and sleeping around. I had better sense than that." 

 

Tamarah's lips trembled as she struggled to keep the tears from falling down her face. 

 

Denise's anger got the best of her and she found herself booming her next response, "How dare you talk to your daughter like that. She needs your help, not your criticism. She's only fourteen and she's pregnant with your grand child."

 

"This is not my grand child. Tamarah's not having a baby. Not until she's older."

 

"What?" Denise inquired, "That's such a shallow thing to say."

 

Angela went to Tamarah, "I booked you an appointment at the Marshall Hall Clinic, for tomorrow. We are going in there together."

 

"Mom..."

 

"Tamarah...."

 

"Look, I really..." Tamarah paused. Not sure what she was trying to say. Feeling a headache come on, she covered her face with her hand. "I..I...I gotta go." With that, she grabbed her purse and walked toward the front door. 

 

"Tamarah, where are you going?"

 

"I need to think. I'll be back a little later." She stated, opening the front door, making her exit.

 

As the door closed, Denise turned back to Angela. "Look, Angela, do you think it's necessary to take Tamarah to a clinic?"

 

"Yes, I do. There's no way, I'm going to let her become a mother at fourteen, nor am I becoming a grand parent. It's absolutely absurd." 


"Angela,  Don't you think you're being a little hasty?"

 

Angela cleared her throat, "Denise. I appreciate your concerns, but the decision is final. I've made up my mind."

 

Denise sighed, glancing up at Angela, "You should show Tamarah some type of care. Support."

 

Angela who was becoming overly irritated being challenged sucked in a deep breath. Going to the front door, she opened it. "Thank you Mrs. Williams for your visit."

 

Denise licked her lips. Picking her purse up, with the car keys attached to a zipper pocket,  she sighed, " Please Angie from one mother to another, perhaps you should think more of the situation before deciding it's out come."

 

Angela cleared her throat. " Denise I know that we have known each other for years, but you have no say over what's best for my child." 

 

Denise sighed and nodded her head. " You're right." Without saying another word she walked out the door and down the hall. 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Eighteen

 Vanessa POV:

 

 

Great things come to those who wait!

 

I rolled my eyes at this lame fortune cookie, threw the paper in the trash and slipped my fork into the pork dumplings on my plate. Tonight was Chinese night at aunt Vicki's house. It seemed that having left school early had it's perks. One was that my mother allowed me to stay at Aunt Vicki's for the night because she'd had another Dr. Appointment. It seemed like being pregnant meant you had to stay at the doctor's office more than you stayed at home. Children would be added to my do not list. "Vanessa are you enjoying your meal?"

 

Aunt Vicki inquired as we sat at the dinner table eating our food. I sighed, "Yes, it's delicious, except the lame fortune cookie."

 

Aunt Vicki laughed, "I hear you on that one. I don't know why The Fang insist on americanizing their products. It's kind of like a defiant of culture."

 

I sighed with a smile,  "Not necessarily, remember the Choos are third generation americans so it's understandable how they would adapt certain cultural habits."

 

Aunt Vicki laughed, "I suppose so, but that's not what I want to talk about right now."

 

"No?" I inquired.

 

She shook her head no, her beautiful eyes staring back at me. "What I want to talk about is, your mother."

 

I wrinkled my nose, partially confused, "Why?"

 

"She's pregnant."

 

I raised a brow and nodded my head in agreement. "Yeah."

 

"I want to know how you feel about that."

 

I furrowed my brows, "Didn't you tell me if I couldn't say anything nice, don't say anything at all?"

 

She nodded, "Yes, but this grass hopper, is the exception to the rule."

 

I laughed at this, shaking my head. "Well, I for one thinks it sucks."

 

"Why's that?"

 

"Because it just does, ok. It's disgusting."  I pouted, crossing my hands over eachother, sitting them on my lap."

 

"Why's that?"

 

"Because it just is. They are way too old to be having kids. Me and Craig are a decade older than the one their having, that's retarded. Who decides to have a child when your oldest is three years from her high school graduation date?"

 

"They're married Vanessa. A baby can be produced at any time."

 

"Yeah, but at the wrong time? Seriously? It's embarrassing to think that my mom and my ex bestfriend will be having a baby at the same time. Do you know how-excuse my french-fucked up that is?"

 

My aunt shook her head, "Hon, you are way too old to be thinking in such a childish way."

 

I flickered my gaze to her, "Childish? How am I being childish?"

 

"While I can understand the confusion you have regarding your mother and friend both being pregnant at the same time, however, to expect that you and your brother be the only two children they have, is blatantly childish."

 

"It's not the fact that we'd be the only two but why wait til we are so much older. I mean Craig will be eleven this year, going to the sixth grade. Why have a baby now? No one will be there with it. I know I won't. I'll be fifteen this year."

 

Vicki sighed, "How do you know God hasn't planned things this way?"

 

I folded my arms in defiance. "How do you know that he has?"

 

"Because if he hadn't, it wouldn't be so."

 

I cleared my throat, "I'd expect this from Kalen or Timothy, but not a woman who's never stepped foot inside a church."  

 

 

"You don't have to go to church to believe in God. The world itself is proof of his existence."

 

"If you say so auntie. I still think they could have had this baby way before now. I mean why wait til we are old enough to leave?"

Aunt Vicki licked her lips. "Maybe this one wasn't planned on their end." I shrugged, "maybe." As I thought of this my mind went to my former best friend. I hope her baby die. I wish she had a miscarriage or abortion or what ever because she didn't deserve a baby.  Sighing, I ran my hands through my hair. God, I hated her so much. 

 

"It's not the end of the world Vanessa." 

 

I shrugged my shoulders again. It sure felt like it.

 

Chapter Nineteen

   Timothy tried to keep his mind on the bible study lesson he was preparing for youth night but couldn't concentrate on the subject he'd begun because his heart was on Tamarah. He couldn't keep her out of it.  Sighing, he closed the book and grabbed a bottle of water in the mini fridge next to his wall and made his way to the front door.

" Dinner is at seven.", his mother stated while chopping vegetables on a chopping board. Timothy nodded his head in understanding as he pulled open the kitchen door to walk through it. 

--------------

 

Tamarah crossed the yard to his house, reached toward the door to knock but paused. He probably was too busy to talk. Sighing she pulled her hand back to turn away but the door opened and she was face to face with the very person of her thoughts. Furrowing her brows at him she stated, "This is interesting." He stood there staring at her, her eyes connecting  to his. "What's wrong?"

He inquired. Tamarah slid her hand over her hair while tears gathered in her eyes. " Mom is taking me to the clinic tomorrow." 

"That's good Tamarah , you get to do what you wanted. Tamarah cleared her throat, "Well...I'm not sure." 

"What do you mean?" Timothy was confused. Earlier that day he was sure she'd wanted an abortion.

"Well, I felt different just hearing her say it, it was like she was disgusted with me."

Timothy furrowed his brows. "Disgusted?"

"Like I repulsed her."

Timothy slipped his hand in hers, feeling the

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