Chapter 7
seven
SO EASY (TO FALL IN LOVE)
ASA
My father lied.
And Gemma was wrong.
I was failing at this shit.
It had been a month since Gemma died, and me and Ezra had settled into a mundane routine. I continued to fuck up, and he continued to spit up on my good shirts.
Surprisingly, the legal stuff had been the least of my problems. There wasn’t much of an estate to settle.
My best friend had thought about everything.
The house was in a living trust that would hold the property for Ezra until he became of age, she had little debt, and she’d named me as successor trustee so I could administer the trust immediately.
Dallas helped with that.
With Demi’s connections, she was able to file the motion quickly, asking a judge to appoint me as the temporary guardian until the court establishes paternity. We received the DNA test last week, and the hearing was set for early September.
Although the judge granted me permission to go home, I’d chosen to stay in LA until everything was settled.
It also helped that Rissa and I were locked in. While we hadn’t made any promises, and we were still sneaking around, she’d been there for every uncertain moment. She helped me through diaper rash, sleepless nights, and provided much-needed stress relief.
The big problem was Ezra.
I’d put in a good effort. I repeated affirmations every morning about resilience and adjusting to change. But really, I didn’t know what the hell I was doing.
Ezra was screaming his heart out, kicking his legs frantically, and slobbering on my clean sheets. It had been like this for hours with only a brief reprieve to eat. And I didn’t know how to make it better.
Everyone had pretty much gone back to their own lives and families. Even Paityn had dipped, jetting off to London on an extended business trip.
Before they left, I thought I could do this. I’d tricked myself into believing it wasn’t that bad. My family had provided a buffer between me and Ezra.
Now, it was just me and him. And his crocodile tears. And his loud wails.
Me
He won’t stop crying.
I watched the screen, hoping Rissa would call back. When she didn’t respond, I texted Bliss:
Me
Help!
Bliss was currently on a flight back to LA for an event, and I prayed she had signed up for the free internet on the flight so she could give me some pointers.
Nothing from Bliss, so I dialed Ma. No answer.
Tyn didn’t pick up either. Then, Rissa sent a text back stating she was in a meeting.
Sighing, I called Dallas. Straight to voicemail.
Demi? On do not disturb. Finally, I scrolled to the person who took pleasure in making me feel like shit for asking stupid-ass questions.
My thumb hovered over the name.
Maybe I should just take him to the hospital.
Another moment passed while I considered my options.
Fuck it.
Finally, I pressed the button. It didn’t take long for Blake to answer.
“Hey,” she said, her voice distant, like she was not standing near the phone. “Hold on.” Seconds later, she sighed. “Okay, what’s up?”
I paced the floor, checking on Ezra every few seconds while I explained what was going on to my sister. “He won’t stop crying,” I said as panic welled up inside. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Asa, it’s okay,” she assured me.
Frowning, I pulled back and checked the name. Usually, Blake led with sarcasm, but she was calm. Nice, not nasty.
“Tell me what to do,” I begged.
Blake switched to a video call, and I breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of her. I might talk my shit about her, and she absolutely got on my last nerve, but seeing her face made everything better.
Smiling, she asked, “Does he have a fever?”
Rushing over to him, I pressed the back of my hand against his forehead, then his neck. He felt warm but didn’t feel hot. “He might.”
“Do you have a thermometer?”
“Gemma had one of those old school joints. A glass one.”
“Good. You’re going to need to take his temperature rectally.”
I froze, staring at the contraption. “I have to stick this in his ass?”
Giggling, she nodded. “Don’t worry, it’s easy.”
“Do I need lubricant?”
“Yes. Just a little Vaseline on the tip.”
I gulped as dread replaced fear. My eyes drifted from my sister to the baby. “What if I hurt him?”
“You won’t. Don’t push it all the way in there. Just a half an inch should be fine.”
“I don’t have a tape measure, B.” I squeezed my eyes shut and took a deep breath. “I just know I don’t want no shit in my ass.”
Blake cracked up. “Nigga, what? You climbed a freakin’ mountain. You hiked through the South American rainforest. You can take the baby’s temperature.”
Swallowing, I asked her to stay on the phone with me while I did it. I walked over to the baby and peered down at him. Even through his tears, he smiled when he noticed me.
“Let me see him,” she asked.
I flipped the camera.
“Oh my God, he’s adorable. I can’t wait to bite those chunky legs.”
I chuckled, remembering the nickname Gemma had given him. “His mama called him Chunk.”
When I changed the camera view again, I noticed the soft expression on Blake’s face, the tears in her eyes. “Then, that’s what we’ll call him, too.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t get there.”
“I understand. Sometimes life doesn’t cooperate with plans.”
“I can’t even find my purse some days chasing after this kid. And Lennox wants more? Sheeiiitttt.”
After Blake gave birth to my third nephew, Kendrix Michael Cole, she’d announced that it was a one-and-done.
Then, she apologized to Bliss, Dallas, Tyn, and Charlye for not taking them seriously during their pregnancies.
It was a rare concession from the sister who literally had zero fucks to give for mostly everything.
Ezra’s cry softened, and once again, he smiled. “He’s calming down,” I said.
“Now is the perfect time then. Rotate the camera again so I can see what you’re doing.”
Sighing heavily, I turned it around again and removed his pamper.
“Okay, nephew,” Blake said. “You’re going to make one woman very happy.”
A smile pulled at my lips, and for the first time, I felt a little pride. Just like my father said I would. “Shut the hell up,” I murmured.
“Just sayin’. Did you clean that thing?”
I frowned. “No.”
“Boy, take yo’ ass in that bathroom and wash that thermometer. Use warm soap and rubbing alcohol. Don’t forget the Vaseline.”
While Blake talked to Ezra in her nice-auntie voice, I grabbed a new diaper, another onesie, a pair of socks, and everything else I needed. Quickly, I washed the thermometer. By the time I returned to Ezra, he was on his knees and dancing to a made-up potty song she was singing.
“B, he’s not even one and you’re singing him a potty-training song?”
“It’s never too early. I learned a hard lesson after Kendrix pooped in the window seat while I wasn’t looking. Took his diaper off and everything. Nasty work.”
I laughed. “Nephew was wildin’.”
“Right?”
My sister walked me through the entire process, giving me step-by-step instructions. As expected, Ezra didn’t like that shit. It didn’t take long, though. And he didn’t have a fever. Now I could breathe a little better.
“See, that wasn’t so bad,” she said. “He’s probably just sleepy or missing his mama.”
I miss his mama, too. “Makes sense.”
“Keep an eye on him and call back if you need me.”
“Appreciate you, sis.”
“I might not say it all the time, but I love you. I’m proud of you and you got this, Big Head.”
Shaking my head, I said, “Whatever, Menace.”
I’d given her that nickname sometime around the sixth grade, after she locked me out of the house on purpose and made me wait outside for Dad to get home.
To get her back, I sneaked into her room and read her diary, then snitched to Mom that she’d kissed a boy behind the bleachers.
For several days, I feared for my life while I waited for her to take her revenge.
It wasn’t until I thought she’d given up that she made her move, busting all my game cartridges with a hammer and tossing the pieces into the pond behind my parent’s house.
Things escalated from there. The battle lines were set, and she’d declared war by destroying my most prized possession.
That summer, we took turns setting elaborate booby traps, ruining property, and starting shit to get each other in trouble.
She gaped. “You tried it.”
“Love you, too, B.” I ended the call and looked at Ezra again. “You good, Chunk?”
As if he hadn’t spent the last several hours crying his soul out, he cooed. And it was the cutest sound I’d ever heard. Picking him up, I nuzzled his cheek with my nose and placed a kiss to his brow. “We’re going to be alright.”
He gummed my nose, leaving thick slobber there.
Groaning, I wiped my face with my sleeve. “What did I tell you about that drool, man?”
Ezra bounced in my arms.
“You hungry?” I walked him into the kitchen. “Alright, let’s get you fed.”
An hour later, Ezra was knocked out in his playpen. I decided to use the free time to wash a load of clothes and change my sheets. Again. I swear I must’ve switched them out three times since he’d gotten here.
I had just finished when the doorbell rang. Shuffling to the front of the house, I opened it.
Rissa smiled. “Hi.”
Wrapping a hand around her neck, I tugged her to me and kissed her. “Hi.”
“I replied to your text,” she said, brushing past me. She dropped her purse on the kitchen counter. “You never responded.”
“Oh, shit. Never mind. Blake helped me.”
“Where’s the baby?”
“Sleeping. Finally.”
“Is he okay?”
“No fever. Blake said he might just be missing his mother. I think he might be a little asshole in waiting, just like the rest of us.”
She walked around the living room, picking up pillows and turning the decorative vases. Peering into the playpen, she brushed her finger over his cheek. “Well, he is a Young.”
I studied her. As always, she exuded class, elegance. In the way she dressed, the way she carried herself. Yet, aside from looking gorgeous in a crisp, off-white button-up blouse tucked into high-waisted, camel-colored slacks, she seemed off. “Are you okay?”