“So, how was the visit?” Dr. Singh-Patel asked.

I had been sitting in my new therapist’s office for over 30 minutes replaying how I was going to tell him the latest. After my brief, but eye-opening discussion with Mr. Taylor in the days following the barbecue fiasco, I’d decided to switch therapists.

Dr. Maxwell and Alex were growing too chummy. I mean, how do you tell a therapist, who is friends with your man, that there are some things going on that could devastate him? Besides, I kind of liked the relationship Dr. Singh-Patel and I shared.

He was a no bullshit kind of therapist and, if you were off your game, he called you on it. I wasn’t sure if it had anything to do with him being a foreigner, but I had to admit, I liked the attention.

“Starlet, are you going to keep staring at your nails?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry—what did you say?” I silently counted that as the third time I’d blanked out in the short time I had been there.

He sat fully up in his seat. “Let’s cut down to the chase. What is going through your head? Every time you come in here, you have a lot to get off your chest, but today is different, no? What has happened in a week’s time?”

I smiled at his brutal way of killing American slang, and replied, “It’s cut to the chase. You don’t need ‘down.’”

He frowned in confusion. I shook my head. Saying anything more was useless. We’d been down this road one too many times. I sighed. “You asked what happened. A lot. A lot of what I knew. A lot of what I don’t want to know. A lot.”

“Well, let’s start with the lot you knew,” he said, relaxing his posture.

“What I knew, the doctor confirmed the other day.”

“Which is?”

“You can’t tell?”

“Tell what? Is this some chariot game or something?”

“Charades.”

“What?”

“Never mind. Anyway, once again, everything’s about to change for me. I just can’t believe I’ve gotten myself into the same predicament all over again.” I rose from the chaise lounge and walked over to the bay window. Looking out always seemed to allow me to get the worst off my chest.

“I’m not following,” the doctor said from behind me. “What predicament?”

I turned to look him in the eye. “The fact that I’m pregnant again, but the father of my baby is not around. I have to do this all by myself. All over again. This time though, I just can’t fall apart, because there'll be nobody there.”

There was dead silence.

Then he clasped his hands together, as a smile slowly crept to his lips. “You’re going to give birth to a new life. That’s something to celebrate. What are you worried about? You’re about to make AJ a big brother. Growing up, I cherished my big brother.”

I flopped onto the window seat. “You’re missing the point. I’m pregnant and my baby’s father is in jail. That would mean I’m all alone. Again.”

“But Alex was here the last time you two were pregnant.”

“Only I can get pregnant,” I said, realizing the futility of the statement as soon as I uttered it. This time it was my turn to have a pregnant pause, literally.

He studied me a moment, before pushing to the front of his seat again. “Starlet, you are saying a lot without saying anything at all.”

“I know. My mother has been saying that for days.”

“Are you telling me she hasn’t confirmed on sight your pregnancy?”

“I think she has. She did when I was pregnant with AJ, but I think she knows I can only handle so much of her shit right now.”

“And what is her sheet?” He twisted up his face, as if the word took too much effort to spit out.

I had to chuckle. Even though he was West Indian, he had a mixture of accents from his stateside time. To hear him cuss was absolutely comical. It was like a Southern, Midwestern, West Indian thing all rolled into one.

“Her shit is being a nag. I love my mother, but she is overbearing. Worrisome. I think what Eric used to say was, she hadn’t cut the umbilical cord.”

“That is a powerful statement.”

“What? Cutting the umbilical cord? I think so, too. Sometimes I thought he said it because he was jealous of how close I was to my mother. But you know what, that is water under the bridge, and I can’t worry about that.”

“Water under the bridge? You have lots of sayings. I learn enough from you to use on other patients,” he said, laughing. “Now, you passed over something I mentioned earlier. I would like to address it.”

I got up, walked back over to the easy chair and plopped down, facing him. “What do you want to know?”

“I want to understand why you got so silent, when I mentioned Alex being there for you the last time. He was there, unlike Eric, who has died.”

“Had died. He died because he was stupid. He let his ego take over, but isn’t that what a lot of men do? Well, I shouldn’t say his ego. Hell, his brother had the ego issue.”

“You seem very firm on this. Are you angry that Eric wasn’t there?”

“I’m not angry at all. I was blessed. Very blessed. Alex is truly God sent. That’s why I wish he wasn’t locked up.”

“But, Starlet, you are dancing around. You dance around when you don’t want to hit the point.”

“It’s get to the point. And what point?”

“Is Alex actually AJ’s father?”

He shifted in his seat, as I shifted in mine.

My Blackberry went off, breaking the intense silence. I looked down, saw a familiar number and sent it to voicemail.

“Starlet, are you ever going to address the fact that Alex isn’t AJ’s father?”