Love Delayed

“You heard me, Dad?”


“Huhn?” My head jerks toward Jordan.

“I asked which one I should choose; Mariah or Marie?” Jordan asks as he tussles with his wrestling figures on the bed next to me.

I wrinkle my eyebrows, trying to recall previous conversations about these girls. “Mariah is the Puerto Rican girl and Marie is the Haitian, right?”

“Yeah.”

I shrug. At least he’s an equal opportunist. “I really don’t have an answer for that. How about neither? What’s wrong with being single?”

My son is only six and talking about girlfriends, not just me teasing him on the subject like before. What are they teaching at that preparatory academy? My attention goes once again to the muffled voices I can swear to hearing beneath my room.

Is that her?

“I know. I told them both that, but they keep saying everybody else is hooking up—”

“Hooking up? What the hell, JR?” He has my attention again that quickly. “You know about peer pressure. Your mother and I both talk to you about leadership. There’s nothing wrong with blazing your own trail. You don’t need a girlfriend to be the man.”

“That’s what I told everybody in the class. I said my Dad is the coolest man on the planet and he ain’t got no girlfriend.”

“Doesn’t have.”

“Huhn?”

“Your Dad doesn’t have a girlfriend,” I correct. I’m not paying out the ass in tuition for my son to speak like he’s from the fucking Westside of Brick City.

There’s a knock at the door.

“Come in,” Jordan calls out.

The door cracks and in seconds, I see her tentative smile as she scans the room while walking in. She’s wearing a simple fitted white tee with light gray cropped jeans and flip flops. Zoey’s mane is pushed back with her long hair falling onto her shoulder blades. Her face is naked and her visage is breathtaking.

“Mommy!” Jordan jumps from the bed and is in his mother’s arms in milliseconds.

Lucky kid.

Zoey giggles. “Whoa! If this is how you are after just two days, what’s your summer going to look like, kid?” She smiles without guards just the way I met her seven years ago.

Jordan is clasped to her small frame, being silly. Zoey’s eyes trail up to me. “Hey.”

I fight my excitement at seeing her and offer her a one-cheek smile instead. “Glad you made it down safely.”

“I did. Even survived Bernard’s snoring on the plane.” She attempts to pull JR from her.

Bernard. I forgot he was coming.

“Mom said you guys made it in this morning. I’m jealous,” she calls over to me, then drags her body with Jordan still clamped onto her towards me on the bed. “I’m sure she cooked for a castle.”

“Yeah, she did,” I confirm. “I’m sure there’s more left.” Zoey stumbles. “Jordan, off your moms, dude. She just got in,” I chide. I know he’s happy to see her—shit, I’m happy to see her. Zoey has that effect on people. Her presence lights up a room.

“Mom, come look at these new wrestlers I got.” Jordan hops back on the bed.

Zoey follows and tosses herself on the bed as well, at a close proximity. I haven’t shared a bed with her in so long, which could likely be the reason my heart rate just increased. After paying a few minutes of attention to Jordan’s animated talk and fight with his action figures, she turns towards me.

“So, Mexico this summer?”

“Yeah. I have a photo shoot out there and I figured I could take JR to Punta Mita.”

“Nice!” She beams.

“Mom, you should come,” Jordan calls over his shoulder.

“I wish.” Zoey pouts playfully. “I have work and meetings. Tynisha is still holding rehearsals for her fashion show, and Bernard has a gig in Baltimore next weekend. I don’t know when I’ll be able to slip in time to sleep.”

“You could always sleep here,” I murmur slickly.

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