Love Delivered

“WHAT?” she trilled piercingly into the phone. “My baby went potty?” That came out more like a cry. “Oh, my god! Oh, my god! Stenton, you did it!”


She was thrilled about it…like me. And suddenly warmth spread over my limbs as a revelation hit me. I was reminded of the connection to her once again. It reminded me of my original plan of being anchored into her world. Jordan was our terminal. He was our common denominator. The bullshit I was going through with Erika wasn’t for naught. I had a purpose. My mission was still valid. I could live to fight another day.

Something in my shoulders loosened. My chest expanded. My posture changed. The fucking sun came out again. And I smiled, broad and unbridled.

“Yeah…we did it. You started it.”

Zoey continued screaming her hoots into the phone. “And you made progress. Now we have to keep it up! Can I speak to him?”

“Yeah,” I laughed in a low tone. “Hang on. I’ll hand him the phone.” I lowered the phone to Jordan. “Here. It’s Mommy.”

“Mommy?” he repeated in his usual fashion. Zoey must have spoken, and Jordan pronounced more purposefully, “Mommy! I doo-doo!”

My cracked face stayed in place, even when I glanced over to find Alton’s ass still beat-boxing, but now into the mirror, checking himself out.

Goddamn knucklehead.

But I couldn’t deny the exuberance in the room felt by all, all because of this little guy. My miracle, Jordan.

~~~~~~~~~~

~Zoey~

“Can you move any slower on dicing that cheese?” I threw over my shoulder to my sister, Ruth.

The party was due to start in just over an hour and I needed to put the pan of macaroni and cheese in the oven twenty minutes ago. The aluminum pan was huge and needed time to cook all the way through.

“Girl, I’m gonna be done in no time!” Ruth hissed, but respectfully. “Is JR still sleep? You need to get him up and dressed. You know how cranky he is at least a half an hour after being woken up.”

She was right. I needed to get him up soon. It was his big day; his second birthday party. My mother was in the great room with a few of her friends from church, I’m sure gloating over the massive apartment in her subtle southern manner. My mother was overjoyed with the décor of the posh apartment from the time it was complete when I was carrying Jordan.

As I placed the deviled eggs in the French four-door refrigerator that came along with the place, I heard the doorbell ring. I wiped my hands on the apron I wore and took off for the door. As I approached the foyer, I noticed Angela headed for it as well.

“I got it,” I sighed as I turned the long stem of the French doorknob handle.

When the door swung open, my heart went into hyperactivity. I was expecting him today—he is Jordan’s father, after all. However, what I wasn’t expecting was him at this early hour.

Stenton’s head was angled towards the floor for seconds before his eyes reached mine. He wore an aluminum gray sweat suit with zippers in nontraditional places on the jacket and hip area. It was relaxed on his muscular frame, displaying his toned arms, chest, and waist. His feet were clad in classic black Air Jordans and his hair was neatly cut into a low fade with tiny curls at the top. His scent permeated the entire foyer and traveled up my nostrils, tapped my heart and shook my core. I felt tingling sensations below. When his eyes met mine, I swallowed hard, because that’s when I noticed his sharply cut goatee and mustache framed around his luscious mouth. For seconds Stenton didn’t speak either. I was stuck and didn’t understand why. It had only been a few weeks since he showed up at the bakery on a stealthy agenda.

Geesh, I know I look a hot mess, I sighed internally. Stenton raised a miniature suit bag.

“I wasn’t expecting you this early,” I breathed out like an idiot.

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