Black Girls Must Die Exhausted: And Baby Makes Two by Jayne Allen

Black Girls Must Die Exhausted: And Baby Makes Two by Jayne Allen

Author:Jayne Allen [Allen, Jayne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Quality Black Books
Published: 2019-12-19T16:00:00+00:00


Chapter 18

I sat in the grey of Chris’ office, feeling myself sink deeply into the chair across from his desk. The white stacks of paper that were always there seemed to be growing rather than shrinking. He was still old school in that way, printing out everything, writing notes by hand, reading ratings reports and viewer letters, all over paying attention to social media. I couldn’t help but wonder if following his lead was the truest way forward into a future of higher ratings. Maybe things did need to change, but who was I to take that on? I could barely stay on his good side as it was.

The sinking feeling on the outside matched my sinking feeling on the inside. Chris hadn’t given me a clear directive, but essentially implied that he wanted, and I’d done it. Yet still, every time in his office was a lead-up of dread and a true roll of the dice. For distraction, I buried myself in scrolling through my phone. The five minutes that passed felt like fifty before Chris finally pushed the door open and walked in. His stocky frame and huffing presence elevated the stress of the environment, even in relative silence. He seemed to carry the weight of our entire staff on his sloping, meaty shoulders. Chris exhaled deeply, taking a seat behind his desk, and leaned forward to look at me over his circular wire-rimmed glasses.

“So,” he said, studying me from the top of my wig-covered head to my protruding stomach, “let’s talk about your maternity leave situation.”

“Well, I didn’t know it was exactly a situation, Chris.” The words escaped my mouth before I really had a chance to consider what I was saying.

“Oh.” Chris laughed uncomfortably. “I didn’t mean it that way.” He shifted in his seat. “We just need…to prepare the viewers for your leave. I want to have your pregnancy mean something for them. I mean…” I watched in the pause as his eyes shifted to my empty left hand that rested on the side of the armchair. “Once again, Tabby, you have a unique situation, so I’m saying, let’s share that perspective.”

At his words, I felt the same all-too-familiar pang in my gut. It was the feeling I felt in the grocery store that accompanied uncomfortable stares and silences every time people took their own look at my protruding stomach and then at my ring-less left hand. I knew that look; I knew that judgment, and I didn’t like it. I thought back to Marc’s unromantic offer at the Jewelry Mart. In that moment, a lesser part of me pleaded for us to take the deal.

“Chris, I’m not sure what you’re talking about, but I’m open to hearing your idea.” I tried to soften my voice into an airy professional friendliness and hoped it sounded at least half-way believable.

“Oh, come on Tabby!” he bellowed enthusiastically. “You know you’re on the cutting edge of a new trend. I’ve been reading about it, it’s called, ‘single mothers by choice.



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