“This is serious, Chelcie. What if you’re sitting here one day and you think ‘Damn, I really wish I had some anchovies with Cheese Whiz’? Well, no worries, because it’s here. You want to nibble on some pickles and grab some ice cream? I’ve got it taken care of. Go on. Look.” I push her towards the freezer, my chest puffing with pride. Yeah, that’s right. I took care of my woman.
She opens the fridge and almost gets nailed with a pint of Chunky Monkey when it falls from the cold depths. I see her lip twitch and decide to ignore it. This was genius.
“And what was blocking the door when I came in?”
“Ah! That was the juice. I got two of every brand they had. I wasn’t sure if you would want something sweet or something with a little tart taste to it. So it’s taken care of. I was moving the coats out of the closet by the front door when you came in. I need to make room for your juice.” I smile at her, proud as hell at all I’ve accomplished today.
She’s silent for a moment, just looking at me then back to the freezer. She opens the fridge and sees the stuffed shelves before looking back over at me. She glances down at the floor for a few beats before she looks up at me again.
“Thank you, baby. That was very sweet of you. I’m really glad that, if I ever need Cheese Whiz and anchovies, spinach, or olives, you’ve taken care of it.”
And just like that, my chest puffs up a little more. Damn, I’m good.
She rolls up to stand on the balls of her feet; I bend down and meet her lips for a few small kisses.
“Go on and relax. Dinner should be ready in about thirty minutes.”
“All right, baby.” She smiles, shakes her head, and walks away.
I hear the TV click on before I turn back to the stove and finish cooking dinner for my woman.
(Chelcie)
I have never tried harder to keep my face blank. To keep the laughter that is threatening to burst loose. When I opened my closet and came face to face with two small, black fridges, I was instantly confused. But when I noticed what they were full of, it all started to click together.
Every cabinet and closet I looked in had been stashed with more odd foods. There were nuts in the bathroom drawers. There were chips—of almost every brand and style—stuffed in the guest bathtub. Apparently, I have a small juicer in my closet too.
But even as funny as this is, I can’t help but love him a little more for how much thought he put into his weird stocking.
I round the couch, grabbing the remote and clicking on the TV as I go. I spot the mail and snatch it up before settling on the couch. When I lean back, I feel it. I’ve felt it a few times before, but this time, I can clearly feel my son making his presence known.
“Asher!” I scream, a huge smile taking over my face.
He comes tearing into the room, looking all over for a threat before settling his confused eyes on me. “What’s wrong?” he gasps.
“Come here! Hurry.” I keep my hands in the spot, the spot he is steadily kicking against from my womb. “Here, give me your hand!” He reaches out without question, kneeling on the floor next to my leg. “Do you feel it?”
“Do I feel what, Sunshine?” He hasn’t stopped looking at my belly, where my hand is pressing his larger one hard against my swollen stomach. I wait for it, praying as hard as I can that I get another firm kick. It takes a few minutes before I know he’s felt it. His eyes widen, and I watch as complete euphoria takes place of the confusion. His eyes shoot up to mine and I smile at him.
“Can you believe it?” I whisper, afraid that, if I speak any louder, I might scare the baby and he will stop.
“Beautiful,” he murmurs under his breath. Looking back up at me, he continues. “Absolutely beautiful. Thank you for making sure I shared that with you, Sunshine.” He leans in and gives me his sweet kiss before bending down and placing one against my belly. “God, I love you—both of you,” he says with a smile.
“I love you too, and if you want me to keep loving you as much as I do, you need to go cook my dinner.”
He throws his head back, his rich laughter raining around me, and I love every second of it. I watch him walk back, his firm cheeks looking hot as hell in his shorts.
Damn, I’m one lucky woman.
“Ten minutes,” he calls from the kitchen.
“Gotcha.”
I turn my attention back to the mail. Just bills, gossip magazines, and some junk. Apparently it’s been a few days since I checked the mail. It’s never full of this much junk. I am just about to toss everything except the bills when I catch an envelope that must have fallen from my pile. It’s just a plain, white envelope with my apartment number on it. Weird.
After tossing the other mail on the coffee table, I peel the back open and pull out the folded piece of paper before unfolding the single sheet and flipping it over so I can read the print. I gasp when I see the words that are staring back at me.
If you know what’s good for you – you’ll back the fuck off now. Or else.
Oh my God! I can’t stop my body from the uncontrollable fear that has taken over. My muscles have seized up in horror of what I hold in my hands. Coming out of my shock, I throw the letter from my grasp and jump from the couch before running into the kitchen.