Love Delivered

Hmmmm…


My parents are not too far behind Ruth and Stenton. They’re perusing Facebook, commenting on the content there. I swear I hated the moment my mom signed up for Facebook. She has pictures of Jordan all over, showing off her pride and joy. This is something I’ve avoided on my own social media accounts over the years, not wanting to over-expose him. Now she’s talking Instagram and I could just croak.

“I’m taking JR to the bathroom,” my dad calls over to me.

I nod my acknowledgement. When they leave the room, my mother waves me over to her. I suck my teeth while standing to my feet. When I arrive, I plop down into the seat my dad vacated. Instinctively, my arms encircle her soft and plump frame and I find instant comfort.

“I have zero interest in your Facebook friends, Momma,” I muffle into her shoulder.

She giggles. “Dear, I have no interest in you seeing the happenings of my Facebook life. I just wanted to know why you’ve been pouting all afternoon. You and Stenton okay? You’re back together now, right?”

I nod my head into her shoulder.

“Then why the physical distance. You two should be no more than a half an inch away from each other in this phase.”

I shrug, my arms still around her. “We’re fine.”

“With the way he’s pouting over there like he’s jealous of the attention you’re giving me, I don’t think so, dear,” she keeps her voice low.

“Trust me, Stenton and I are finally going at this the right way. One thing we’ve never been good at together is pacing ourselves. We rush, we manipulate and get it all wrong. I don’t want it to go wrong this time. I want this thing to be right.”

She pats the side of my face with her left hand. “Okay, baby. If you think right is being so far away from him, maybe you can teach this thirty-five-year marital veteran something about love in this new day and age.”

My head jerks up. “Don’t be patronizing, Momma.”

“And don’t use those formal words that you do with your staff. I’m your momma. And that…” she gestures to Stenton who’s trying to avert his eyes from me. “…young man wants me to be his official mother-in-law. That won’t happen with you over here, laying out on your momma. You don’t get a man that way. And if you can in this new age, I ain’t with that type of freaky stuff. Do you catch my drift, young lady?” her tone is definitely patronizing.

“Yes, ma’am,” I shrill.

What my momma doesn’t know is three nights ago, on our last date, when the car arrived at my apartment to drop me off, Stenton and I were locked at the lips, under each other’s garments gripping skin and moaning like a pair of horny teens. If it weren’t for the door slamming closed from his driver giving us privacy, reminding us that we weren’t alone, we would have engaged in copulation right there in his truck.

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