“Is my Boopee taking a poopee?” Sarah asked in her baby voice.
Zoey smiled at Jordan with adoration as she typically did.
“Well, I ain’t changing him. You my lil’ man and all, but that smells like a load,” Ruth stated with her nose still wrinkled.
“Oh, whatever, Ruth,” Zoey hissed. “He’s not done yet. Are you, pumpkin?”
“No, he isn’t. Let my Boopee finish in private please,” Sarah’s voice was more terse and protective than I’d ever heard. “Bernard, are you saying you’re doing the McDonald’s Gospel Fest again this year?
“We’re gonna try. It was really fun last year. I told Zoey she should come next time. Everybody goes.” Bernard was gushing like a bitch.
My eyes flew over to Zoey, who smiled at him in response while chewing her food, but not with her eyes. Her body language revealed she wasn’t as enthralled with him as he was fixated on her. What the fuck was her angle? My next question was did Bernard have the finesse to change her mind. Was she available?
“Don’t nobody wanna go to that concert with a whole bunch of fronting queens. Like eighty-five percent of all men at those things play for the other team. Ain’t no straight woman beat for that sh—” Ruth caught herself. “I mean, show.” But her mother caught her near slip anyway and rolled her eyes.
Damn… And I thought Zo was a firecracker.
“Wow! I do smell you now, lil’ man,” corny ass Bernard squealed with his crooked ass mouth. That shit made my skin crawl. “You should be done with that odor. I don’t think I’ve ever changed a diaper before. I’d be willing. Hey, Jordan, you wanna give me a try?”
The clanging from my fork being dropped into my plate and the screeching from my chair being pushed from the table was glaring. I stood, detached the tray from the high chair and gently pulled my son out and carried him out of the dining room to change and bathe him. If Bernard ever laid a hand on Jordan in my presence I think I’d fucking snap.
After Jordan’s bath, Sarah came to my room, asking for him. She asked if I minded her putting him to sleep with his bottle. I guessed they decided Bernard would crash on a stowaway in the room designated for Jordan. She’d had his rolling crib with her at the door and offered for me to come and get him whenever I wanted. There was no way I could say no to Sarah. She was like damn kryptonite. I hugged my little man and handed him off to his grandmother. Thanks to Eligia, Jordan was sleeping through the night, so I knew when she put him down he’d likely sleep in there.
After that, I needed something to do to occupy my mind. I’d shut my phone off as soon as Zoey arrived, not wanting to be bothered with anyone that wasn’t in this house—with the exception of Bernard. I damn sure needed the distance from Erika, who I knew would be blowing my phone up, offering to change her plans and spend Christmas with me. She knew I’d be with my son, but hadn’t enough of a moral compass to understand how inappropriate that would have been to Zoey. She didn’t consider Jordan’s mother would be spending Christmas with him, too.
I decided to have a nightcap before turning in. I would have loved to kick it with Zo, but she was on some other shit, bringing whack ass Bernard up here. She did that shit to spite me. She knew I’d be here. On my way to the kitchen, I passed the den where I heard voices pouring from the room. When I approached the door, I saw Bernard engaging Michael in a conversation. That fucked with me, too. Michael still hadn’t warmed to me. He didn’t step on my toes or disrespect me, but you certainly wouldn’t have found us chopping it up as casually as he was now with that soft fucker. I shook it off, knowing I deserved it for what I’d done to his family. To his daughter. I didn’t deserve his hospitality.