Chapter 8
EIGHT
Lucky Jr. was in the backseat, knocked out like he just left a fight ring instead of the barbershop.
Little man had the nerve to fight sleep and the clippers at the same time, head bobbin' like he was on stage with a mic instead of gettin’ a fresh fade.
I looked at him through the rearview mirror and smirked.
“My twin for real,” I muttered, cutting the corner toward the crib.
Barber had him lookin’ like a lil’ boss, his waves tryin’ to form already, just like mine. Jream gon’ eat this up when we walk through that door. I was lowkey tryna stay calm, but I can’t lie… I’m hype. Real shit. Another Baby Bleu on the way.
She probably got pregnant right after them six weeks was up…
or hell, maybe before, ‘cause she had definitely slipped up twice before the green light. Said she just needed that itch scratched, like I wasn’t already tryin’ to be on my best behavior.
I tried to be patient, real gentle about it but she had crawled in my lap like temptation herself talkin’ bout don’t make me beg.
What was I supposed to do? Tell my wife no? Exactly. So now… here we are. Another little blessing cooking in that body I can’t keep my hands off of. Another piece of us on the way. Another reason for me to get this money, protect this home, and love her harder than ever.
I pulled into the driveway and killed the engine, lookin' back at Junior one more time before gettin' out and cracking the door open.
"Come on, little man. Let’s go make your mama cry when she sees this cut."
He groaned like he heard me, still halfway sleep, but reached for me anyway. I scooped him up, held him against my chest, and carried him inside.
Today was picture day. 5 o’clock sharp. Coordinated outfits hangin’ up. Jream been running around all morning making sure everybody’s clothes were steamed, snacks were packed, curls were laid, and all I had to do was get cut and show up.
But I wasn’t gon’ just show up. I was gon’ show out. ‘Cause every time I look at my family, I see how far I came. Every time I look at my wife, I see where I’m goin’.
We weren’t perfect, but we were real and we were us.
Bleu strong.
Bleu proud.
Bleu forever.
I kissed Junior's cheek and walked us inside, ready to see my girl, rub her belly, and get our picture-perfect life captured for the mantle. I didn’t even make it five steps in before I heard her voice from around the corner.
“Lucky Sincere Bleu,” she called out, already sounding like trouble in her throat. “You cut his curls?!”
I stopped in the middle of the hallway with Junior on my hip, turnin’ just enough so she could see his fresh lil fade. He was still half-sleep, eyes heavy, but that line-up was tight. Man looked like he had somewhere to be at two years old.
“I wanted to surprise you, baby,” I said with a slow grin. “His first real cut… just somethin’ small to clean him up. Still got his baby softness. I didn’t go to crazy.”
She stepped around the corner with that silk press flowing over her shoulder and her brows up, but that smile creeping in betrayed every fake mad bone in her body.
“Mmm,” she hummed, walking toward us, “let me see my baby.”
Junior reached for her, arms stretching out like she was a safe place he’d been missing all day. She took him from me, one hand under his pull-up padded little butt, the other brushing along the side of his head.
She kissed his cheek. “Awww, look at you. You look like Daddy, stink.” Then she turned those eyes on me, slid her hand up the back of my neck, and pulled me in slow. Pressed her lips to mine.
“I love it,” she whispered against my mouth.
I wrapped my arms around both of them, letting my forehead rest against hers for a second. That’s all it ever took with her; one second in her space, and the world felt like it was finally in tune.
Then she laughed, pullin’ back just a little. “But… Jenie might not like it.”
“What you mean?”
“She loves his curls, baby. Every time she grabs his head she be twistin’ them lil ends like it soothes her,” she grinned, walking off with Junior in her arms, still half-sleep.
“Damn,” I laughed, hand on the back of my neck. “I didn’t think about that…”
“Well, you gon’ have to explain it to her when she looks at him like you ruined her emotional support puppet,” she called from down the hall.
I followed after them both, smiling like a fool.
That was the thing about her; she never needed a big moment to make me feel like I got it right.
Just one look, one kiss, one soft “I love it” and I’m ten feet tall.
I gave Junior that cut so he could feel like the little man he’s growing into, but the real reward?
That smile on her face when she saw both of us.
That was everything.
Hours flew by faster than I thought they would.
One minute we were tryna wrangle two toddlers into picture-perfect white and blue outfits, the next we were sweating under the flashbulbs, Jream tryna fix Jenie’s little bow every time she moved and me bribing Junior with gummy bears to smile like his mama but we got it done and she looked so damn good doin’ it, too.
Now we were just gettin’ back in the house, kids knocked out in the backseat, and Jream still barefoot, carrying her heels in one hand and the other holding Junior close to her hip. Jenie was on my chest, knocked out with drool on my shoulder.
“Damn,” Jream mumbled, unlocking the door with her elbow, “we pulled that off.”
I leaned over and kissed the side of her forehead. “You pulled that off, mama. You the one who got us lookin’ like a Black Hallmark card.”
We had just got everybody inside, laid out on the couch and the baby swing, when the doorbell rang.
She gave me that look, the silent you get it nod and I smirked, heading toward the door.
I swung it open, already grinning.
Zayne stood there with a smirk of his own, Minnie’s car seat in one hand, and Zoe gripping two of his fingers, rocking her puffs and a lil attitude. Monee was behind him, wearing that smug mama glow and looking like she had something smart on the tip of her tongue.
Zayne squinted at me, then down at Jenie’s swing behind me, then at Jream who was just now coming around the corner with Junior riding her hip again.
He nodded slow, smile growing. “I see we goin’ three for three.”
I chuckled, dapping him up. “Hell yeah. The Bleu family all gas, no brakes.”
Monee stepped past him, eyein’ us both like we were two misbehaving teenage boys. “Nah, y’all need to learn how to pull out. This is ridiculous.”
Jream burst out laughing, her head falling back. “You say that like we not already pregnant.”
“Mine was planned, except for this last one,” Monee shot back, snatching Zoe’s little bag off her shoulder. “You and lover boy over there be poppin’ up pregnant like it’s a Black Friday sale.”
“Don’t act like Zayne didn’t look at you too long and you ended up barefoot in the kitchen,” I muttered, closing the door behind them.
Zayne coughed into his hand, tryna hide his laugh. “Aye, chill.”
We all fell into that easy rhythm after that. Minnie was already being passed into Jream’s arms while Zoe ran to Junior like she didn’t just see him last week. Jenie stirred but didn’t wake, and the house just felt full in that way that made you pause and appreciate the moment.
Three for three, huh? Shit. I ain’t mad at it. I’d do it all again for them.