Love Delivered (49 page)

“So you
are
marrying him.”

Fucking prick.

“Yes. No…I don’t know. We’re just…
together
.”

And there’s that fucking term again
. The one she and I are struggling to define. I have one meaning, she has…none.

Things go quiet again. 

“I’m sorry for the messiness in all of this, Bernard.”

The asshole scoffs. “No need to feel sorry for me. I feel sorry for you. I was ready to marry you. Give you and Jordan the commitment you deserve. All Rogers is offering is you being
together
,” his inflection changed in that last word. “Have a nice life, Zoey. My sincerest prayers are with you and Jordan. See you around.”

I can hear his ballerina taps out of her office and the door slam. This time I don’t jump. I stay put. For the first time, I empathize with Bernard. He’s lost her. I have too at a point in my life. I’m not sure how he valued Zoey or why, but I do know life without Zoey’s bright light is worse than not having it shine on you at all before. She’s that incredible.

“Well, Mr. Rogers,” Angela sighs as she stands from her seat, wearing an indisputable grin. “This has been a robust conversation, but I have a batch of cupcakes to whip up before boss lady comes fumbling out of that office, ready to shoot anything not moving.”

Angela leaves the small office and I’m up seconds after her. I gait over to Zoey’s office and open the door without bothering to knock. She jumps at my presence. She’s surprised. Through her eyes, she asks if I heard. I offer a small smile as I hand her the bouquet of flowers over her messy desk. I bend over and kiss her on the forehead.

When I pull back, I offer softly, “As usual, you were on my mind. I just wanted to show you. Have a good day, Zo.” And I walk out.

I’m not angry, but a bit frustrated after hearing that shit with Bernard. Who the fuck is his cotton candy ass to speak about my commitment to my family. Shit, I may have caused Zoey lots of confusion and pain, but I’ve never ventured far. I’ve never left her side.

As I hop into the truck, my phone goes off. It’s Zoey.

Zoey:
Are you mad?

Me:
No

Zoey:
Well why did you leave?

Me:
Because I know when you get upset like that you need a minute to settle shit.

Zoey:
He doesn’t know us. What he said doesn’t matter.

Me:
But what you believe does. You know what I ultimately want from you. I guess I’ll just wait for you to want it too. Until then we’re just “together”.

Zoey doesn’t respond. I don’t expect her to. She’s still brewing. And me? I’m brooding. That conversation with Bernard and Zoey leaves me feeling unsettled as I go about my day. I have a league signing at Wells Fargo and I’m cutting it close, time-wise. It’ll be good to get my mind off this frustrating woman.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Mommy,” I hear soft knocks at the door. “Mommy, you locked yourself in there?” More knocks.
Impatient knocks
. “Mommy!”

Goddamn demanding knocks, disturbing my comfort around a soft warm frame, bathed in our collective erotic scents. I open my eyes to the sunlight.

Damn
. I overslept.

I tap Zoey who’s sleeping blissfully. She should be. With the stunt she pulled last night, using the body candles we used in our scene, her ass should be out for a while.

“Zo,” I tap her. She stirs a bit, but doesn’t rouse. “Zoey, it’s time to get up. JR’s up.”

That woke her ass up. Zoey jumps from the bed like a mad woman, her eyes are wild in search of something…clothes maybe.

“Holy mother of Joseph! Hide!”

I ball up my face. She’s nuts. Where is my long ass going to hide?

“Stent!” she whispers forcefully. “He’s going to see us! You have to hide. Go in the bathroom or something!”

Zoey comes over and grabs me at the arm with her small hands, trying to tug me off the bed without success.

“Stenton, please!” she cries in a panic.

“You know what?” I throw the covers off as I leave the bed and snatch up my underwear then jeans. “To hell with this.”

I go toward the door, and from behind me, hear Zoey whisper, “Stenton! What are you doing?” I unlock and yank the door open. “Holy mother—”

“What the?” Jordan’s mouth drops. He’s not scared, just a bit surprised as he examines my topless form in his mother’s bedroom. “Daddy…”

“Morning, Lil’ Captain,” I greet as calm as I can. Zoey’s gasping in the background doesn’t help. “Listen, remember when I told you Mommy and Daddy would be boyfriend and girlfriend?”

With big eyes, Jordan nods.

“Well, that means sometimes—no, lots of times—we’re going to sleep in each other’s beds. This way we can spend as much time together and with you as we can. So, from now on, you may see Mommy coming out of my room or me coming out of hers in the morning, but what you won’t get to do is just walk in the room without being invited in, okay?”

He nods again. “Okay, Daddy.”

“Good. And another thing, when you wake up in the morning, you don’t need to wake us up. You can go pee, wash your hands good, grab yourself a snack, and watch TV until we get up, got that?”

“Yes, Daddy.” Jordan’s eyes divert behind me. “You okay, Mommy? You look scared.”

“
I
—I’m…” Zoey clears her throat. “I’m okay, pumpkin. Go do what your father said and I’ll be right there with you.”

Jordan takes off to his room. I know my son. As I observe his gait, I know he’s confused. Jordan and I are tight, so tight that I occasionally have to check him about his mouth at times when he speaks to me like we’re the same age. He’s not by any means disrespectful, he just has a sharp wit like his mother’s that needs to be curbed. He’s also surprised, but in due time, he’ll understand.

Now, his mother on the other hand… I turn to Zoey as I close the door to find her shaking her head, seemingly exasperated.

“I don’t know why you did that. You should have consulted me before making that call. It’s something we should have planned together. I’m his mother, Stenton. It’s one thing to see his father with a woman, but it’s an entirely different thing to see his mother with a man in—”

“No! To see
his mother
with
his father
. I am his father! I am not a stranger here. I am his father. I am a part of this unit. No, he’s not accustomed to seeing me half dressed in this bedroom, but as he gets older he will appreciate that I’ve paid for this bedroom. He’ll know that I’ve loved his mother. I’ve taken care of her and this family. That even though I hurt her, manipulated her, I’ve been here. And I’m tired of feeling that a cloud is hovering over my head no matter my efforts of moving this family forward. I’m done with that, Zoey. I’m ready to move on!”

With hiked brows and a tucked chin, she calmly points out, “This seems to be about more than you spilling the beans to Jordan before I was ready.”

“You’re damn right it is!” I clap back and Zoey leaps. “I’m tired of tiptoeing around things. I’m tired of taking things slow.”

“Well, what do you want?”

I step closer to her. “I want marriage. I want to be official. I want my son to wake us up in our bed. Not just your bedroom, not just my bedroom, but our bedroom. Why is it taking so long?”

Why does something so elementary to a Christian woman sound so foreign to Zoey? You would think with her church background, she’d be dragging my ass to the altar.

“Well, I want things here, too! I want a baby—”

“You ain’t getting
SHIT
until I get marriage!” I’m even taken aback by my volume.

Zoey jumps even higher in place at that. I’ve passed the point of no control. I’m ready to take her on. I know Zoey stays on her toes and has some sharp shit to spit back. She never takes anything and rolls over. I’ll demolish anything she throws. I’m ready.

What I’m not prepared for is when she stretches her neck, tosses her chin in the air as she marches into the bathroom. On her way, she informs, “Breakfast will be ready in thirty minutes.” When the door closes—not slams, might I add—I let out a heavy breath. This woman never fails to surprise me.

I head out to the bathroom in the hall to take a leak before going to JR’s room to check in on him. It’s been a morning of surprises and emotions running high for all of us. I tend to him, being sure to talk and make sure he’s okay. And he is. Jordan is his usual self, not mentioning anything about finding me in his mother’s room half dressed. We do our usual morning chant about daily success followed up by a two-step and make our way to the kitchen.

True to her word, the smell of breakfast is in the air as we travel down the hall. Zoey’s sitting at the bar, eating already. She has Jordan’s plate across from hers and mine next to his. She doesn’t regard me, but smiles at Jordan. I don’t want things to turn sour for us, especially since we’re naturally inclined to be lighthearted with each other, constantly teasing and joking around. I want to grab the bull by the horn and redirect its path. I grab the fork she has lying next to my plate and the stool and pull it as close to her as possible. I scoop up eggs from her plate with my fork. Zoey’s neck snaps in my direction and I avoid her eyes.

“So, JR, we usually take our annual vacation the week before I return to work,” I call over to Jordan as I chew my food. “You know the season starts soon, so where do you want to go?”    

His eyes go big. “Can we go back to Mexico? That was fun!”

I dip my fork in the grits on Zoey’s plate, loving the proximity. “Nah. That’s too far. We don’t have that type of time. How about somewhere closer?”

I can see the cogs of his mind going.

“What about Disney?” The mention alone excites him.

I snatch a piece of crispy bacon from Zoey’s plate. “Well, you know your mom doesn’t like being around large groups of kids and we have to include her from now on. Plus, you can’t take too much time off of school. It will have to be something close and low key.”

Jordan shrugs. “Then I don’t know. Let’s just do something fun.” His enthusiasm has waned.

I toss Zoey a glance, lowering my chin playfully. “Mommy, do you have any ideas…suggestions?” I inch closer to her and lower my voice, just slightly. “Where do you wanna ride Daddy next?”  

Zoey jolts and with wide eyes, observes Jordan, who is immersed in his plate. Then she looks at me with a face-splitting grin. And that’s when I know we’ll be fine.

“Ah, man! I forgot my calculator!” Jordan yelps and shoots out of the kitchen.

When he leaves, while forking into her plate, I mutter, “I’m sorry.”

“No, Stenton. I know I need to be more progressive about this marriage thing.” She shakes her head. “By all means, I do want to be with you forever. There isn’t another man I can imagine doing
my
forever with.” Her eyes lock with mine. “I just need time. It’s just that this is all happening so fast. It’s something I’ve spent
years
dreaming about, and now it’s finally here. I just need time to wrap my brain around the turnaround. I just need time to make sense of it all, you know?”

“I do.” I drop my shoulders. “And I know I haven’t helped, but Zo, about the baby…we really do need to discuss that. I want to grant you that; it just won’t be as easy as it sounds. So, we need to talk about it.”

More subdued and even tender, a far cry from her Niña persona, Zoey shakes her head with parted lips. One thing that hasn’t changed about our dynamic is how she can frustrate the hell out of me and quickly assuage with her submissive posture.

~~~~~~~~~~

September 2014

~
Zoey
~

I keep checking my watch and the doorway of the sanctuary.

Where are they?”

I text Stenton again, asking for their ETA. As soon as I let out an exasperated breath, I see Kim approaching me.

“We’re taking the kids to the back to line them up for the processional. I can grab JR when he comes in from there, okay?” Kim gives a brief nod, showing far more calm than I’m feeling right now.

“Okay. Thanks, Kim,” I return.

Stenton is never late with dropping Jordan off to me. I was surprised when he kept him last night after I’d gotten off work, knowing he has to fly out this afternoon for preseason training. He’s even going to be late. I called him as I walked out the door, offering to pick up Jordan on my way to church. Stenton didn’t seem out of sorts then. He said he’d wanted to spend a few more hours with him seeing he would be gone for almost a month, on endorsement business then fulfilling annual NBA obligations. Maybe I should have been more forceful. Jordan is participating in our annual Children’s Day at church this morning. We do it every year during the first week of September. He has a huge role this year.

I glance down to my phone again. Nothing.
Crap! Where could they be?

“’Morning, everyone.”

My head pops up to the altar and finds Pastor Whitaker on the pulpit. I check the time again. There’s still fifteen minutes before service is due to start. This is unusual.