~Zoey~
As soon as we walked through the door, I told Jordan to head straight to his room to put his things away. I dropped my purse and keys and started off to the kitchen when I heard a screech so shrilling, I could swear my child’s vocal chords had burst.
“Daddy!”
That shrill stopped me in my tracks. It hit me. His presence is powerful in this house. I wish I could say that fact was exclusive to Jordan, but it wasn’t. Stenton being around for the past few days had charged the atmosphere even for me.
“Mommy, Daddy’s here! Mommy, look!” Jordan screamed.
I didn’t move. I didn’t feel it was appropriate, and Jordan didn’t need me. He was simply expressing his joy and sharing it with me. I continued to the kitchen to get a snack together for us before bed. It was the night before school started and I wanted to ease him into it evenly. It was almost seven in the evening and I knew Jordan would be complaining about being hungry before going to bed. I also didn’t know if Stenton had eaten since I’d left. And me, during that quagmire of a date I had with Jae, the last thing I had an opportunity to do was eat.
There technically wasn’t an opportunity to eat, seeing we met at a coffee shop in Montclair. While there, all Jae had in mind was sex…and Stenton Rogers. He wanted to know when we could meet for the second time…to talk about Stenton’s retirement. I’d only been chatting with Jae on the phone for less than a month. I met him at a barbeque I attended this summer with Angela in West Orange. He was handsome and charming, so I figured why not. Big disaster. I wouldn’t be seeing Jae anymore. Jordan’s excitement of coming home to his father eclipsed the huge blow to my ego from my time with Jae. Jae, who by the way, is an editor of a small and unheard of urban magazine. Of course, he hadn’t mentioned that in any of our conversations, not even the few recent ones with the context of sex that Stenton had heard.
When I made it to the back of the apartment, I could hear Stenton instructing Jordan on getting ready for bed, starting with a bath. I decided to shower myself before returning to the kitchen to finish the pizza rolls I put together and needed to bake. Jordan loved those things. As I dressed when I got out of the shower, I heard another alarming yelp. This time it held lots more testosterone than the previous one. I threw on my clothes and skipped down to Jordan’s room.
I saw Jordan, at his desk, apparently reading a book. I recognized the book. It was one I assigned to him over the summer while he was in summer camp. Stenton appeared ghostly.
“What’s wrong?”
“He’s reading this without a break!” Stenton’s eyes were spooked and his nose flared.
I shook my head softly while wrinkling my brows. “Jordan knows how to read. He’s been reading for almost a year.”
“I knew he could recognize some words, but…this?” he pointed to the book.
“Stenton, that’s not much of a challenge for him. He reads at a third grade level, though I’m pushing for sixth.”
“Third…sixth? Hell, I was bragging about him being able to oil paint and spell his name, mine, yours and his grandparents’.” Then he turned and glared at Jordan, who fought to hide his gloating smile. I guess he could sense his dad gushing over him. “You’ve been holding out me.”
“What?” Jordan burst out in giggles, looking just adorable. A miniature Stenton, that kid was. He really was. The way his eyes slanted to the point of closing, and when his thick, curly eyelashes would connect, it was one of my favorite features of his father’s. Just one.
“You know what, man!” Stenton yelled, playfully. He was impressed. “I’m gonna go hard on you now. You’re going to read my contracts while I put my feet up from now on.”
“Contracts?” Jordan and I screamed at the same time.
I walked out, shaking my head. “We’re having pizza rolls. Be out in twenty minutes.”