8. Cedar
Cedar
One Month Later
T hump.
Thump.
Clatter.
My eyes flew open at the sounds coming from somewhere in the house. I lifted my head and glanced at the clock on my nightstand.
The fuck? Three-oh-two?
I sighed and laid my head down again.
Thump.
Bang.
“Shit.” I threw the covers off me, and I jumped out of bed without thinking. Rushing out of my room, I scratched the side of my face and looked to my left. Sunday’s door was open, and the lights were off. I heard the noise again, and I realized that it came from downstairs.
I jogged down the stairs and saw her moving around in the kitchen from the open concept living room.
“Aye,” I grumbled in a thick, sleep-filled voice as I walked in her direction.
“Hey. Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.”
“What the hell you down here doing? I could’ve mistaken you for a robber.”
“Glad you didn’t bring your tool,” she replied dryly.
“It’s a little after three. Why are you up so early?” I asked through a yawn as I stretched my arms above my head.
She set the pot on the counter and pouted. “I couldn’t sleep. I figured that I would get an early start on our brunch.”
“You do realize that it’s not considered brunch if you eat this early, right?”
“Well, breakfast.”
I moved her aside and shook my head. “Nah, it’s not that either.”
“What is it then?”
“That shit’s called an after-hours meal. This early in the morning is the shit that you eat after you’ve been at the club all night because you got the munchies.”
She giggled. “Speaking of which . . .”
“Nah, your li’l ass better not be smoking nothing with my seed in you.”
She scrunched her face at me and folded her arms over her midsection. “Cedar, don’t come at me like that. You know me better than that.”
“Well, you’re the one over here talking about ‘speaking of which’ and shit.”
“I was just saying that I do have the munchies, or whatever you call it when a womb-snatcher comes, takes over your body, and turns your life upside down. I’m always hungry, Cedar. I get tired of eating sometimes.”
I pulled the eggs from the refrigerator and glanced at her. “Are you hungry now?”
“I am.”
“How about I make you a quick bacon and egg sandwich and then later cook brunch after we’ve had some rest?”
“That sounds good.”
“Take ya seat, ma’am,” I instructed and pointed to the window seat in the breakfast nook.
The smile she gave me snatched my heart in a chokehold. I watched the sway of her hips and ass as she padded over to the window seat and picked up a book. I glanced over my shoulder again as I broke the eggs in a silver bowl she had already set on the counter.
“What’s that you’re reading?”
She lifted the peach and cream book in her hand and answered, “It’s a book that has a list of baby names.”
“Oh, yeah? What have you come up with so far?” I sprinkled salt and pepper into the eggs, added heavy whipping cream, and then whisked them.
“Just a few names for a girl and a couple of names for a boy. Unless, of course . . .”
“Unless what?”
“You wanted him named after you.”
I sprinkled smoked gouda and sharp cheddar into the eggs as I thought about what she said.
“I mean, yeah, I’ve thought about it, but I didn’t know how you felt about it.”
“Cedar, I know that we’re not in a relationship or anything, but that doesn’t mean that you don’t have as much say about our child as I do.
Sometimes, women get so caught up in that whole thing about this being their body and carrying the baby for nine months and having more rights and say-so about their babies than the father does.
I don’t want to be that woman, Cedar. I want you to feel a part of everything that I go through, as integral a part of our child’s life as I am, and as comfortable enough to make decisions as I am. ”
“That’s wassup, Sunny. Trust and believe that I will feel comfortable making major decisions about our child. When it comes to naming our baby, though, I’m not tripping too much.”
“Have you ever wanted a junior?”
“Maybe a second. That junior shit sounds country as hell.”
I grabbed the bread from the breadbasket and proceeded to butter them for toast.
“I don’t really see you as a first, though. You’re not that type of nigga either.”
I chuckled as I whisked the eggs. “Nah, I’m not. But I ain’t feeling that junior shit either.”
“Maybe we should come up with something different.”
“Like what, Cedar Omarion Jackson Deuce?”
“Or Cedar Omarion Jackson Duo?”
“How about Duet?”
“Or twin?”
“Or Cedar Omarion Jackson Next Level?” She giggled so hard at that. “What? You don’t like my next level?” I asked.
“Oh, my goodness. Can you imagine us calling him Next?”
“Or level?”
“How about Tree? I mean, if he’s like his daddy . . .”
“Nah. That shit used to piss me off when I was a kid.”
“Well, I think Cedar is a beautiful name.”
“Never said I had a problem with my name. Just that tree shit,” I explained and placed the bread into the toaster.
“Okay, well, back to the drawing board.”
“What else have you come up with?”
I placed the bacon in the cast iron skillet and placed the splatter screen on top.
“For girl names, I like Kaira Dior, Samaria Dove, Leilani Gabriella, Brooklyn Savannah, and Icelynn Rose.”
“Whatcha got for boys?”
“Truce Azaiah and Xavier Kyaire.”
“I’on know about all that, Sunny.”
“All what?”
“Kyaire sounds soft to me. We’re not raising no soft boys, especially not in these times where folks don’t know what the fuck they are.”
“Cedar, that’s insensitive.”
“Not trying to be, but you also ain’t never known me to be politically correct either. Everybody else gets to say how they feel. I’m damn sure gon’ speak my feelings too. Besides, they can do what they want in their lives. I’m strictly talking about my boy.”
“You say that as if you’re certain it’s going to be a boy.”
“Got a feeling in my chest, is all.”
“Aww, Cedar,” she replied with pouty lips and giving me soft, puppy dog eyes.
“I’m serious.”
“I know. So, what names are you thinking of? I mean, if you don’t like the ones that I chose, and you don’t want him named after you, you have to give me something.”
“I never said either of those. I said that I didn’t like Kyaire. If we’re sticking with tree names, if it’s a boy, we can go with Aspen or Juniper. They’re strong-sounding names.”
“I like Aspen. And girls?”
“I don’t really like girl tree names,” I replied as the toaster popped up the bread.
“Acacia. Holly. Laurel. Magnolia?”
“Nope. I’m good with Kaira Dior and Brooklyn Savannah.”
I plated the toast on two saucers.
“So, we’ve got a contender for girl names and only Aspen for a boy’s name. We need another name to go with that. How about Aspen Phoenix?”
“Nah, both of those are unisex names. Need something more concrete and stronger for my boy.”
“You’re getting a kick out of this, aren’t you?”
I flipped the bacon and nodded.
“Cedar, I know that you’re a great guy. You’ve always been a standup guy and a man of your word. I don’t want you to feel obligated to do this.”
I glanced at her, and she had her hand over her belly and was looking down at it.
“Obligated?”
“Yeah. I mean, I know that you’ve mentioned wanting a family before, but I know that you didn’t mean it this way. You wanted a wife, a home, and the kids. Not a random baby with your roommate, but a baby with a woman you love.”
I turned around and stalked to where she sat.
“Let that stupid shit come out of your mouth again, Sunny, and I’ma have to cuss your ass out.”
“What?”
“You heard me. Ain’t shit that I created random. I don’t give a damn if it wasn’t planned. And you’re not random, so don’t talk about yourself that way.”
Her eyes welled with tears, and while I felt somewhat bad for my harsh reaction, I needed her to know how serious I was.
“I’m just saying that I don’t want you to feel tied to me or this baby, Cedar.
I know that it’s going to be a lot, and it’s taking your life in a direction that you didn’t see coming.
One day, you’ll fall in love with some woman and want to marry her.
A baby mama and an outside baby could complicate matters with a new family.
I just don’t want you to have any regrets. ”
“I’m not on that shit, Sunny. If I ever fall in love again, I seriously doubt that it would be with someone who couldn’t accept my child or the relationship that I have with my child’s mama. If so, she ain’t the woman for me.”
I sat down in front of her and held her hands.
“Listen, you gotta stop this negative shit. We both lay down and created this baby.”
“We didn’t exactly lay down. We were standing up . . . right over there,” she argued and pointed over my shoulder.
I mugged her. “Point is, . . . neither of us thought about using protection or considering it. We were foolish, caught up in the moment, and had sex. We knew the risks. So, how could I possibly be upset? Besides, from where I sit, when I think of all the women I’ve messed with in the past, including my ex-wife, I couldn’t have chosen a better woman to be the mother of my son. ”
The tears that had welled in her eyes before spilled over now. I wiped them gently with my thumbpads. It took everything in me not to kiss her.
“God, who made you so sweet, and how did she mess over an incredibly amazing man?” Sunday whispered as I leaned in and kissed her forehead.
Shrugging, I stood and went back to the stove. I removed the bacon, set it on a paper towel-covered plate, and buttered another pan for the eggs.
“I’m sorry, Cedar.”
“You should be. That baby needs nothing but love and peace. It needs to feel it from the womb and come into this world in a peaceful environment. Our baby will know and feel our love every moment of its life, and for that to happen, you gotta quit thinking negative thoughts and doubting shit. You feel me?” I asked as I poured the eggs into the skillet.
“Yeah,” she replied softly.
“A’ight. If you have concerns or doubts, what are you gonna do with them, Sunny?”
“Come and talk to you.”
“Good.”