So You Call Yourself A Man. Carl Weber

there was some resemblance to me and my people. He wasn’t a dead ringer like my sons, James Jr. and Michael. They looked just like me. Ain’t no denying those two. Marcus, maybe he could be my son, but I still thought he looked more like the other guy Michelle was screwing. She’d admitted to me once while we were dating that she went raw-dog with her boyfriend Trent almost every time.

      Either way, I was in no position to stand up to Michelle and insist on a DNA test. Things at home were going too well between Cathy and me to take any chances. If there was the slightest chance he was my son, I didn’t need any drama, especially from Michelle. That girl would take the phrase “baby mama drama” to the next level.

      “What’s the matter, little man?” I tried to rub his head.

      He stared at me for a few seconds, obviously confused. The tears began to run down his face. “I want my mommmy!” he wailed.

      I took a deep breath because there was no bigger pain in the ass than a child who wanted his mother. I tried to warn Michelle of this before she left, but she wasn’t hearing me. She swore up and down that he’d sleep through the night and wouldn’t get up ’til daylight.

      “I know you want your mommy, but your mommy had to go to work. She’ll be home soon, okay?” I smiled at him, but he wasn’t going for it.

      “I want my mommmy! I want my mommmy! I want my mommyyyyy!” he screamed, each time louder than the first. He was about two seconds away from a full-blown meltdown, but I’d been through this same thing with my boys. I knew what to do. I was going to bribe him.

      “Hey, Marcus, you want a lollipop?” He shut up immediately, nodding his head, although tears were still running down his face. “Well, if you want a lollipop, then you gotta stop this crying, man.”

      He sucked back tears and wiped his face with his shirtless arm. I smiled, reaching in my pocket and pulling out three Tootsie Roll Pops I’d purchased on the way over for just such an occasion. Before I could even ask him which color he wanted, he grabbed the red one out of my hand, ripping off the waxed paper. I smiled as he shoved it into his mouth.

      Works every time, I thought. I never met a kid who wouldn’t take a bribe. All you have to do is find out his weakness. With some kids it’s candy, others it’s TV. I’ve got a nephew who won’t shut up unless you give him a dollar.

      I picked him up, placing him on my lap. “Do you know who I am?”

      He nodded his head repeatedly as he sucked on his lollipop. “You my daddy!”

      I almost dropped him off my lap, I was so stunned by his reply. I don’t know what I was expecting him to say, but it wasn’t that. “Who told you that?”

      He jumped down and headed toward a love seat across the room. Then he climbed up on it, pulling a photo album off the end table and on to his lap. He started flipping pages like he knew what he was doing and I walked over to investigate. About ten pages into the album he stopped, pointing at a picture. “Mommy and daddy,” he said in his rather cute child’s voice before pointing to another picture and repeating the same words.

      I took a good look at each picture, and to my surprise, each photograph had a picture of Michelle and me at various times during our relationship. I was surprised she kept those pictures and even more surprised that she showed them to her son. Now, if you ask me, that shit was low. She’d already had junior here brainwashed that I was his dad. I wondered, how long had she been showing him my picture? Not that it mattered. The damage was done now.

      I started to walk to the kitchen. “Come on, little man, let’s get your Lion King cup and get you some juice, so you can go back to bed and I can think.”

      I swear, I’d barely turned my back for two seconds when I heard Marcus sputtering and choking. I rushed back into the living room and there he was, laying sprawled out on the floor, gagging, with his hands near his throat. My heart was doing summersaults in my chest as I dashed across the room and grabbed him.

      “What’s wrong?” His lips were turning blue and he gagged. I immediately turned his back to me. In one swift movement I delivered the Heimlich maneuver, and the lollipop spewed out of his little mouth. Relieved, I had to choke back my own feelings. What the hell was I thinking about? Giving him that stupid lollipop almost killed him. Without thinking, I held Marcus close to my chest to calm both him and myself. His little heart was trotting like a racehorse and so was mine. After Marcus caught his breath again, he began crying in deep gasps.

      “It’s all right son, it’s all right, Daddy’s here. You’re going to be all right,” I said in a soothing voice. I thanked God Cathy had made me take a CPR class at the Y when our boys were infants. When he finally calmed down, I said, “Here. Let’s go get your juice.”

      “I wanna play with Majesty,” Marcus protested between hiccups. As if on cue, the dog began to bark from the laundry room.

      “Okay. I’ll let you play with Majesty or whatever his name is for a little while, then back to bed you go.”

      After Marcus drank his juice and went to the toilet, he romped around with his little mutt until he dozed off in the middle of the floor. I picked him up and carried him to his bedroom, feeling something stirring in my gut. Marcus had his arm wrapped snugly around my neck.

      I laid him down in his twin bed and shook my head. Lord, what if something had happened to him while he was with me? I don’t think I could’ve lived with that. He was a good kid, even if he wasn’t my son. And if he was my flesh and blood and died…dear Lord, I didn’t even wanna think about it.

      10

      Sonny

      “Ladies and gentlemen, please raise your glasses one more time and join me as I wish my best friend, Brent, and his lovely bride, Alison, farewell before they depart on their honeymoon.”

      Cheers and clinking glasses echoed throughout the Westbury Manor reception hall as Brent and Alison took center stage. I handed the microphone to Brent so he and his bride could say their final good-byes, then slipped into the crowd to check in with my wife. It had been one of the most emotional wedding ceremonies I’d ever been to. I don’t think there was a dry eye in the place after Brent and Alison recited from memory their very personal vows. If that wasn’t enough, the Westbury Manor reception hall looked like something out of a magazine, and the food they served tasted like it came from a five-star restaurant. Add in DJ Smooth, arguably the best old-school DJ in Queens, and you had the best wedding I’d ever been to, including my own. I’m sure the whole affair set Brent and Alison back a pretty penny.

      After maneuvering my way through the crowd now surrounding the Williamses on the dance floor, I found an empty table toward the back of the hall. I sat down, pulled out my cell phone, and dialed my wife. We talked for about fifteen minutes and I told her about the wedding. She was jealous, of course, and wished she was there, but said nothing could tear her away from packing up our belongings so we could move them to New York. Jessica was excited about our move. She probably asked me fifteen times a day when I was coming home to move them out.

      “Excuse me, sir. Can I have this dance?” a warm, sexy voice purred just as I hung up the phone.

      I looked up to see the woman who took my virginity, my high school sweetheart, Tiffany Boyd. She was still as pretty as they come, with her smooth bronze skin highlighted by a large dimple on her right cheek. She’d gained a little weight over the years, most of which ended up around her hips, and of course you know I didn’t mind that, being the ass man that I am.

      “It’s been a long time, Tiffany. I heard a rumor that you married crazy-ass Kareem.” I started to laugh but stopped when I saw her expression.

      “Crazy is right,” she said as she sat beside me. That man put me through hell before I divorced him.”

      “Oh, wow, I’m sorry to hear that.”

      “So am I, but he’s out of my life now.” She smiled, changing the subject. “So, speaking of rumors, I heard you were dead.”

      “No,