Free What a Sista Should Do by Tiffany L. Warren

know, you really could have given me this after dinner. I don’t like to argue while I’m eating. It ruins my digestion.”
    “Answer my question, Luke. I’m being really patient here, so don’t try me.”
    “Well, you really haven’t asked anything. If you’re asking did I sleep with Taylor, well, yes, I did. A few times. It was nothing serious, and it ended almost as soon as it started. If you’re asking if I’m the father of her child, then my answer is absolutely not. I can’t believe she’s trying to pin her little bastard on me.”
    “How do you know he’s not yours if you slept with her?”
    “Because, believe me, I was not the only one she was with. The brothers have been passing Taylor around for months. She’s nothing but a worthless whore.”
    For some reason, I think that Luke is lying about the duration of their affair. He’s too calm. It’s like he’d already planned and practiced his responses. He sounds like a rehearsed witness on one of those court television shows.
    “Well, even if there were others, there is still the possibility that you’re the father. Right?”
    “I suppose that there is a remote possibility. More than likely, she thinks that I’m just going to accept this and give her money to shut up. She’s after my pockets, just because we have a little something. There is no way that I’m going to give my hard-earned money to that little tramp.”
    I feel a well of questions bubble up—questions I had kept to myself over the years. “So those weekends when you disappeared, you were with her?”
    “Yvonne. Don’t do this.”
    “I mean, I just want to know. You said you were only with her a few times. But you’ve taken your little trips once, sometimes twice, a month. Now, I’m no math genius, but that adds up to way more than a few times.”
    “Vonne, I was not with her all those times.”
    “Oh? You weren’t?” I feel my anger rise. “Well, then, who were you with? Because you sure ain’t about to sit up here and tell me that you were alone.”
    “Woman, I don’t have to explain anything to you. And you ain’t about to sit up here questioning me like I’m some criminal.”
    Luke wipes his mouth and hands meticulously, as if he’s daring me to do something. I want to leap across the table and slap his smug-looking face. Of course, I don’t do nothing but sit here.
    “Luke, whether you think so or not, you owe me an explanation.”
    “For what?”
    “For you going over there with Taylor, doing what you should only be doing in our bedroom! In our bed!”
    “What can I say, Vonne? A man needs some variety every now and then. It don’t mean that I don’t love you.”
    “What does it mean, then?” I ask, feeling tears come to my eyes.
    “Nothing. Like I said.”
    Luke gets up from the table and goes into the living room. I hear
Monday Night Football
come on. I guess he’s finished talking about this. I’m not, but I’m not going to try and force anything else out of Luke.
    Try as I might, I can’t get up from the table. It feels like I’m spinning or something. I’ve never been drunk, but I imagine that this is how it would feel. Shouldn’t he be the one reeling right now? He’s the one who just had a bomb dropped on him. But maybe something is not much of a bomb if you know it’s coming.
    I was hoping that Luke’d deny everything and that we could go back to what we call normal. Now what?
    What is everyone at church going to think? What about Pastor Brown? Luke is a minister, for crying out loud. Even though I’m the victim, I probably won’t even be able to show my face once everyone finds out. And for some reason, I think that Ms. Taylor Johnson has no intentions of keeping this thing a secret. And to think, I actually tried to do something nice for her and that baby.
    Maybe I’ll tell my close friends so that I can have someone on my side. You know, rallying behind me. Taylor’s got the whole singles’ committee. They’re nothing but