Page 14 of His First Wife

FROM: [email protected]

DATE: 4/09/07

TIME: 12:01 PM

Cute screen name. I was never bothered by the other one.

As far as dinner, I just don’t think that’s appropriate. I’m married. I hope you understand.

Thanks again for your help.

E-MAIL TRANSMISSION

TO: [email protected]

FROM: [email protected]

DATE: 4/09/07

TIME: 2:16 AM

I’m so embarrassed. I hope you don’t think I’m some kind of crazy person. I know you’re married—I peeped that Cartier band when you came to get your PalmPilot. But you seem cool and I was just hoping to be friends. I don’t have many friends in Georgia. After Duane died, I used the insurance money to move down here to buy my house, so I’m pretty much alone. And you seemed nice and safe and a great example of where I’m trying to go in my life right now. I just don’t get to meet too many successful people like you. In these few weeks, you’ve inspired me.

And I’ve decided to fulfill my dream of finally going back to college. At 31!

I apologize if I came off disrespectfully. No harm intended.

E-MAIL TRANSMISSION

TO: [email protected]

FROM: [email protected]

DATE: 4/09/07

TIME: 2:25 AM

See, now I feel bad for writing the things I wrote. I could imagine what you’re going through having lost your husband. And I think it’s great that you’re working on trying to do big things with your life. You deserve it. Look, I’m here if you need help. I wouldn’t be where I am today if no one helped me, so I understand what you mean.

Please accept my humble apology. I just didn’t want to lead you on.

Naked for the First Time

The worst thing about being pregnant is that you have to get used to the fact that you’re sharing your body with another person. Yes, it’s a person you made. And it just happens to be a tiny person. But that little person that’s a part of you pushes your body to the limit—first hormonally with the nausea and fatigue and then as the teeny tiny person grows, he continues pushing by stretching and kicking at your insides like he could make more space, simply by wanting it.

By the time I was eight months, the tiny person inside of me who was to be named after his father became a beautiful struggle. I was happy he was there and seeing his little body on the monitor was wonderful, but I could never get comfortable with him inside of me and sometimes I would just sit back and look at my fat black belly that had a platoon of stretch marks on it and pray that he would come out already. I felt bad, but I was getting tired of sharing my body and wanted out of the pregnancy thing. I wondered if I’d ever get my shape back and knew I’d have to jog a thousand miles before I’d wear my skinny jeans again.

Laying in bed in Marcy’s guest room, I just couldn’t get comfortable. If the baby wasn’t turning and kicking, I was thinking about Jamison and crying. I took a long, hot shower when Marcy and I got in from the precinct. And while Marcy dutifully found one of her old maternity sweat suits and laid it out for me, I just climbed into the bed, wet and naked as the day I was born. I wanted to feel my skin against the crisp linen, shock my body with the empty coldness waiting beneath the sheets, curl up like the little baby inside of me and cry myself to sleep in the middle of the day.

With the lights off and the curtains closed, sleep came quickly to my exhausted body, but after two hours, rest faded and I was up again, tossing and turning, trying to get comfortable with my body and the situation. I wondered if being at Marcy’s was a mistake. I couldn’t let Jamison run me out of my own home. It belonged to both of us. But I knew if I went home, he’d be there. I didn’t want to see him. And I also kept wondering what I’d do if he wasn’t there, if he never came back. I wasn’t ready to face either situation—seeing Jamison or not seeing Jamison. I needed time to think. Time alone.

“Uppy, puppy?” Marcy said, pushing herself and the sunlight behind her into the room.

“Yeah,” I said, squinting.

She came and sat on the bed beside me, placing a warm cup of milk on the nightstand.

“I thought you might like that,” she said. “Something to calm your nerves.”