I waited a couple of days before I started up on him again. He enjoyed all the attention and the sex. But three more months went by and I hadn’t gotten pregnant again. I was getting worried that we’d never have a child. “Maybe it wasn’t meant to be,” Odell said, trying to make me feel better. “Maybe God got other plans for me and you.”
“Like what? What other plans would God have for us, especially when He knows how desperate we are to have a baby?” I cried.
“Joyce, we ain’t that old. We got a lot of good years left and I’m sure my jism and your eggs won’t expire no time soon.”
“Well, I don’t want to be forty-eight-years old like Mama was when she had me. Even if we have children within the next three or four years, by the time they get old enough to go to school, Mama and Daddy will be too old to enjoy doing things with them.”
Mama was so anxious to be a grandmother she had already knitted several pairs of booties and blankets and was about to do a few more. Daddy was even more anxious. He couldn’t stop talking about how much fun he was going to have teaching his grandchildren how to fish. It got to where I hated when the subject of babies came up.
“I wish you would stop all that unnecessary worrying. I know we’ll have a baby way before you get as old as your mama was when she had you, sugar.”
“I just don’t want you to be disappointed in me.” It was hard for me to speak and hold back my tears.
“You ain’t disappointing me by not giving me a baby. But you do disappoint me when you keep harping on it. That ain’t helping the situation at all, and it’s just making you feel even worse. Now let me tell you again, I’m very happy with you and I’m always going to be happy with you, whether we have children or not.”
I was so glad Odell had such a positive attitude. If any man deserved to have children, it was him. Somehow I knew he was going to get what he wanted and I knew it wouldn’t be too much longer. That was one of the things that kept me going. Another one was all the attention he gave me.
Some days I couldn’t walk past him without him lunging at me. If we were in the living room, he’d wrestle me to the floor or the couch and we’d make love. Then we’d move to the bedroom and start all over. The last time that happened, he told me, “I’m just getting started on you.” Those words made me tingle all over. I couldn’t imagine how much more he could show his love for me. I didn’t know what I had done to deserve a man who practically worshipped the ground I walked on.
Even without makeup and my hair fixed, Odell had me believing that I still looked good to him. We made love every way possible two human beings could. I’d even started doing things I never thought I’d do. Once I got used to oral sex and French kissing, I enjoyed it as much as he did. On the nights that he didn’t jump on me, I jumped on him. I liked to hem him up in the bathroom and make love leaned up against the wall. Another favorite location for me was the kitchen. I looked forward to the times when we’d get buck naked and do our business on top of the same table where we ate most of our meals. One time we got so carried away, we rolled to the floor and Odell’s foot hit the stove and knocked off a boiling pot of collard greens. It missed our naked asses by a few inches. We never made love in the kitchen again.
People noticed how much I had changed since Odell had come into my life. “I’m so pleased to see how much you’ve blossomed,” Miss Kirksey, the teacher I worked with, told me one morning a few minutes before our students arrived. “I guess love is the cure-all some folks claim it is.”
“Sure enough,” I agreed, grinning from ear to ear.
I still enjoyed working with young kids and I felt that the practice was going to come in handy for when I had my own. However, there was one little girl named Minnie that I didn’t care for. She lived with three divorced women: her mama, her grandmama, and an aunt. One was just as bitter and miserable as the next, so I was not surprised that Minnie had such a bleak outlook on life. She was a pretty little thing, but she was a bully and had no friends. It seemed like every time she opened her mouth, she let out something offensive, mean, or just plain nasty. “Mrs. Watson, how did you get such a handsome husband?” She had asked this rude question in front of the whole class last Thursday when Odell came by the school to bring me some flowers for no reason.
“What do you mean by that, Minnie?” The minute I asked that question, I regretted it.
“Did you hoodoo him? My mama said you must have.” She had a serious look on her round face, but the other kids snickered.
I was so shocked and annoyed, I wanted to slap that nosy little heifer. “No, I don’t believe in all that hocus-pocus and you and your mama shouldn’t either.” I was
