She said, “That’s what you want to talk about, right?”

It was, but it wasn’t. And if Briana Marlon Deveraux was indeed my child, then my sister having an abortion would look very hypocritical. Man, I didn’t know what to think about anything anymore. The situation with Michelle had sucked me into a mental hurricane. I was just trying to find solid ground somewhere.

This has been one crazy-ass summer, I told myself. Ever since I received that phone call from Corey Sanders to meet him for drinks, things just unraveled. Him creating the leak of information about Andrea had led to everything that had gone haywire in my life, including having nightmares and dreams about women and fatherhood.

I told my sister, “We’ll just, ah, talk about it later.”

I hung up with her and I was itching for the rest of that day to talk to somebody about my concerns. I got a few more phone calls, but they weren’t from people I wanted to talk to. TaShay called to thank me for covering for her with her aunt, and to apologize for getting involved with me, but I just decided to leave that alone. She was too young for me to be dealing with.

I did want to call Victoria back though. I didn’t want her thinking badly about black men on account of me. Not saying that she would toss all black men in the same boat. She hadn’t done it yet, I just didn’t want to be the one who sent her overboard. Nevertheless, if I called her after concluding my situation with Michelle, I would have a concrete excuse not to deal with her anymore. In fact, Briana would give me a solid reason not to deal with a lot of women, if she was mine.

But Victoria’s been through that shit before with a black man, I reminded myself. She had lost her last black man to a former girlfriend, marriage, and children, so how would she feel about losing me under similar circumstances? It would pretty much make her look like a twice loser.

I finally told myself, “Wait a minute, I don’t owe her anything.” I didn’t treat her badly. I didn’t force her into anything. I didn’t mislead her. We simply had a couple of fun nights together, that’s all.

In fact, “I don’t owe any of these women anything,” I insisted.

I guess I was going through relationship withdrawal, so I stayed in my confused shell. Of course, that didn’t mean I wasn’t curious about what they thought of me. So I listened to another phone message left from Danni.

“You are a weak motherfucker, you know that. Why can’t you just face me like a man? Why you gotta dodge me like a punk? Be a man!” she challenged me.

I just laughed at it. I understood Danyel’s position. She would be pissed off until she got the last say. Well, I had news for her, she would just have to get over herself. She was only giving me more reason to pack up and leave Atlanta.