December 2006 ~Stenton~
I rang the doorbell, not understanding what the fuck I was doing there. I knew she texted me, asking me to shoot by because she had something to show me, but that still didn’t explain why my dumb ass went to this girl’s house on Christmas day, who I’d only known since the summer. I could hear the chatter from inside and sounds of a television. I had no idea if this was a dangerous set up or not. Shit! This was some risky shit. Some shit that I’d never done. To add insult to injury, I had my security stay in the truck because I didn’t want to come off as supercilious. Zoey wasn’t with that shit, so I wouldn’t be either.
On the third ring, I heard movement beyond the door. When it pulled open, I recognized the exuberant smile of the little lady wearing it. Zoey looked far more innocent than that vixen I’d last experienced with her tongue down my throat. The thought of that made my dick twitch in my pants. Her hair was in a messy ponytail, she wore an oversized Princeton sweat-shirt and loose gray sweats, and her feet covered in black furry socks. She looked homely, but her beauty was glaring through all the loose clothes. I didn’t need to be reminded of what was under those layers; I’d committed Zoey’s sexy ass body to memory.
“You came!”
Suddenly, I couldn’t fight my spouting grin. “Yeah. My uncle was sick of my ass laying around his crib. I told you I’d stop by on my way home if it wasn’t too late. I hope it’s not.”
“Oh, of course not,” she breathed, and appeared somewhat nervous. That made two of us. “Come on in.” She backed away to give me entrance into the small home.
I entered straight into the living room where a game was playing on the television. The walls were covered with photos, a few I noticed immediately were of Zoey. The fragrance in there was a miscellany of an aged home, Zoey and soul food. The lighting was a bit dim because of the dulled bulb. I heard muffled voices from a distant room. Shit! I wasn’t up to meeting people. I’d hoped that wasn’t the plan for the visit. There, in the living room, was a young girl on the phone, chatting spiritedly while holding a small baby.
“I hope you’re paying attention to what you’re holding, Shemma!” Zoey scolded as she led me into the short hallway that connected to the kitchen.
The little girl shot back over her shoulder, “I am, Zo. Dang!” That’s when she caught a glimpse of me, possibly recognizing me. I didn’t stay around to know for sure. I stayed on Zoey’s heels.
“Ruth…Zo, where is your Daddy?” A woman with a soprano tone called out as she bumped into Zoey in the hallway. The three of us damn near collided, I was so far up on Zoey’s ass feeling a bit wary about voyaging through a strange home…without security. “Oh, my!” the woman’s eyes batted in a bashful manner. I could tell my presence had caught her off guard. “Who is this?”
Shit. Here we go.
“Momma, this is my friend, Stenton. Stenton, this is Sarah Barrett, the bestest Momma in the whole wide world,” Zoey charmed. I could tell it was something she did often.
“Oh, girl!” her mother swiped her away as Zoey tried planting an endearing kiss on her cheek.
When Zoey pulled back, I proffered my hand. “Mrs. Barrett, it’s an extreme pleasure to finally meet Zoey’s mom.” And I meant that. The strength that Zoey exuded could have only come from a woman who positively guided her. I’d meditated on that since our first one-on-one conversation. Zoey’s maturation could not have been totally organic. It had to have come with wise impartation.
“Why, thank you…” Sarah struggled to remember my name, which explained why she didn’t have that gleam of recognition in her eyes. But there was one of trying to figure out where she’d seen my face before. I’d give her some time and hoped the revelation would come once I’d left.
“Stenton, Momma,” Zoey assisted her mother.