La Muneca De Los Dos

Toussaint Under Pressure: Part 16

When you live on a beautiful island the days seem to drift away. Life was simple and carefree. Toussaint made love to me each morning and every night. We had started rebuilding the relationship he said we always had.

There were minor inconsistencies in his stories for instance he said that we met in St. Croix but one day he told me he had been attracted to me since he saw me at a party in Tampa, Florida. He told me he got confused because he was under a lot of stress.

He had been receiving phone calls. He'd leave the house and not return for hours. It happened for several days and suddenly stopped. He stated he had a cousin that was going through some troubling issues.

One night after he made love to me, I was in a deep slumber. My mind drifted. I had a terrible dream. I heard a man's voice. It sounded a lot like Toussaint's.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he asked angrily.

"I'm not spending the rest of my life in jail. They think I killed her."

"As far as we're both concerned...Zora is dead."

"No. No. No. Oliver—"

"My name is Toussaint."

"You said you would take care of what happened in Mexico. You just used it to take advantage of—"

"Look. I told you I'd take care of it. I'll take care of it. No one knows where you are right?"

"No."

The voices stopped. My stomach cramped something awful. I woke up in pain grabbing my stomach. I looked to my left Toussaint wasn't there. I called his name. He entered the room, "Yes, my love?"

"My stomach hurts."

"The baby isn't due yet."

"I know but it hurts. Please can I go to the hospital?"

Reluctantly he agreed and took me.

*********

At the hospital, I lay on an exam table. Toussaint stood by my side. The doctor examined me, "How old are you?" he asked me.

"I'm 21." That's what Toussaint told me. He even paid for an ID card that said so.

"You barely look 18."

Toussaint chimed in, "You know black women rarely look their age."

The doctor nodded, "This is true. My wife barely looks 30 and she's 50 years old." He continued to touch my belly. He ordered an ultrasound.

When the technician performed the ultrasound, she was flabbergasted. "Oh my, she's having triplets."

"Triplets?!" gasped Toussaint right before he passed out and hit the floor.

She had someone attend to him as she continued to examine me. She gave the doctor her findings and when Toussaint was conscious, he scolded him, "This woman needs to be under a doctor's care. Three babies are a lot for a doula to handle. There could be complications."

"Before technology, women gave birth with the aid of midwives."

"And some of those babies didn't make it. Thank God for technology. I'll expect to see her here every two weeks or so. She'll probably deliver early."

"Yes. Thanks. I'll ensure that she makes her appointments."

*****

For two days, Toussaint seemed distant. I assumed he was upset with me for getting ill that day. Or it was because I was having three babies at once. He didn't touch me. He hardly looked at me. I decided to go for a walk.

After about thirty minutes, I stopped to rest. I was lost in thought when a man sat next to me and said, "Hello there."

I looked up into his blue eyes, "Hello," I replied.

"How are you?"

"I'm well."

"When are your babies due?"

"Babies?"

"I meant baby."

I nodded, "In a couple of months. I'm having triplets."

"Oh, so you are having babies. My slip-up happened to be correct."

We shared a laugh. I saw Dominique hurrying towards me. "Mrs. Clarke. Your husband is looking all over for you!"

He stood and then helped me to my feet, "Your husband?" he asked with curiosity.

Dominique stared at him, "Yes. Husband. Now you just go on and find some other woman to bother. This one is taken."

He nodded, "Have a nice day." He walked off.

I looked at Dominique, "That was uncalled for."

"You are a married woman and what did he want anyway."

"He was just being pleasant."

"Dinner is ready. Your husband wants you at home with him. And some gyal done come to the house. I swear she irks my nerves."

"Girl? What girl?"

"Some blonde-haired blue-eyed gyal. He says she's, his cousin."

I nodded. "She must be the one who kept calling last week."

We continued on our journey back to the house. We entered. It smelled delicious as always. There was curry goat and rice and peas. Toussaint was sitting on the sofa with the woman. They stood. "Yvette this is my cousin Danielle. She'll be staying with us for a while."

I saw that her belly was full, "You're pregnant."

"I am. The father is an asshole."

Toussaint stared at her disapprovingly, "Language."

"My apologies. He's a jerk. He's off with some other woman while I struggle to carry his kid. I'm hungry. Can we eat?"

I felt bad for her. Such a horrible situation to be in. Dominique rolled her eyes and went to the kitchen. She placed the food on the table and we sat. It was quiet. I watched her tear into the food wildly as if she had not eaten in days.

She looked up into our eyes, "I did mention that I was hungry. This kid has my appetite crazy."

"What are you having?" I asked.

"They say it's a girl. I was hoping for a boy. What are you having?"

"I have three babies. Two boys and a girl."

Her jaw nearly hit the floor. "Ay dios mio."

"You speak Spanish."

She nodded, "I'm Cuban."

My head tilted, "But Toussaint is from the Virgin Islands and you're from Cuba?"

"One of her parents is Cuban," interjected Toussaint.

I nodded. After dinner, I went to the bedroom to rest. Toussaint joined me in bed after a shower. It would be the first time in days that he'd touch me, "I'm sorry I've been so distant. a lot is going on," he said to me sweetly.

"I understand. You're a good man. Everything will be okay."

He kissed my mouth and pressed his way inside from behind. "My sweet, sweet, Yvette," he said as he stroked. He continued until he filled my center.