Chapter 19
Deshona
Korrena: Happy Birthday, Bestie/Cousin! I love you to the moon and back.
LeKendric: Happy Birthday, Little Sis. Even though I ain’t heard from your little ass. Must have gotten wrapped around some pussy like Ma said you would and you’re too ashamed to confirm my thoughts.
Aloud and completely unladylike laugh falls from my lips when I read my brother’s text. I should have known he couldn’t just send me a regular birthday wish. My fingers glide over the keys as I type a response to Korrena and then one to my irritating brother.
Me to Korrena: Thanks, bestie/cousin. I love you too.
Me to LeKendric: Go to hell, demon spawn.
My phone rings before I can put it down, and a lazy smile upturns my lips as I answer the call. “Hello.”
“Happy Birthday to you. Happy Birthday to you. Happy Birthday, my dear, sweet Deshona Charise. Happy Birthday to you,” Mom sings as flutters fill my chest.
For as long as I can remember, Mom has sung to me for my birthday. As the years pass and my age increases, I have grown to ignore the chalkboard screech of her voice. But it’s the one constant that I enjoy as I ring in a new year of life.
“Thank you, Mom.”
“Always, Dee. You can go to bed now,” Mom says with laughter in her tone.
It’s just after midnight, and usually, I would go to bed after getting my official greetings from the three people in my life.
But this year is unusual, and based on my current location, I know this isn’t gonna be a day like in times past. Not ready to go into that or anything else, I express my love for my mother and end the call just as a knock sounds on the door.
“Howdy, folks. I’m Dr. Wrigley. What brings you in?”
I stare from the older Black man with a bald head, white beard, and white lab coat to the bed, where a lone sleeping presence lies.
“This is the third day that he’s been sick.
He has a fever over one hundred, chills, a scratchy throat that gives the worst Teddy Pendergrass impersonation, and he’s barely eating.
He didn’t want to come, but since the fever isn’t staying broken, I thought it was best,” I say as the doctor sits on a stool opposite the bed and types into the keyboard attached to the computer in the room.
If someone had told me that I would spend my birthday as a nurse, I would have called them a liar.
But I guess the joke is on me because here I am.
Oddly, I’m not mad or sad about it, though.
I have never been in this position before, and Alijah hasn’t made it hard for me to care for him.
In fact, I have enjoyed getting an opportunity to be tender and gentle with him.
“When would you say this began?”
“Uh, probably a few days ago. We got stuck in a storm while jogging over the weekend, and he didn’t have a shirt on.
I have been fine, but his hardheaded butt didn’t take the Zicam I suggested when he said his throat was funky a day or so later.
” I roll my eyes at the memory of Alijah’s insistence that he never gets sick and didn’t need my little girly gummy.
My eyes shift from the doctor, who nods as he continues typing, to Alijah, who has yet to move. Despite the summer temperatures, Alijah is buried under a hoodie, with his head covered, and some sweatpants.
I bet his ass wishes he took that little gummy now.
“Do you think you can wake him up so I can check him out? I don’t want to walk into an unexpected jab from catching him off guard,” Dr. Wrigley says.
“Sure thing.”
I stand and move closer to Alijah to wake him up so the doctor can check him out.
My poor baby.
Gravely grunts sound from Alijah when I place a couple of kisses on his warm cheek, but he doesn’t move.
I tap his shoulder a couple of times while calling his name, and it works a minute or so later.
When his eyes peer into me, my chest aches from the redness and sickness I see within them.
Once Alijah is coherent, Dr. Wrigley makes his presence known and checks Alijah out as I step aside.
I watch Alijah like a bird overseeing a nestling’s first feed.
Time moves on, and before long, Alijah and I are leaving the emergency room with a diagnosis and prescriptions that have been sent electronically to the pharmacy closest to our apartment.
I flick my index finger up to advance the page as my other hand rubs the head of the man who rests under my arm. We’ve been in this position most of the day, and I think I’ve been more content than Alijah.
“Damn. I’m sorry about this shit, mama.” Alijah’s hoarse voice rumbles against my chest, and I remove my eyes from my reading device to look at him.
Dark lines are beneath his eyes and yet it doesn’t take away from how attractive he is. His braids are up in a messy bun I gave him, so it’s less bothersome in his current state.
“Don’t apologize. Stuff happens. But damn, you’re the worst man I’ve ever had.” My lips twitch from the smile that threatens to upturn my mouth.
“We can go do what I planned for you.” Alijah tosses the blanket off his body, and I shake my head when I see the tremors.
“You still have a fever, and the doctor said the only thing you should be doing is what we are currently doing. Stay put.”
I put on a voice that Roslyn would be proud of if I ever have any children to use it on. My eyes are stern as Alijah frowns deeply. What I won’t tell Alijah right now is that this birthday isn’t bad. It’s different, and yet I still feel a sense of fulfillment.
“But-but—” His words get cut off by the round of coughs that hit my side and rock his body which confirms his need to stay put.
“See. This is why you need to lie back down. There will be other birthdays.”
“Man, this is the devil trying to have me out here looking bad and shit.” The wheezing in his delivery made me shake my head and tap the spot on my body where he just was.
“Rest, baby. I promise I’m good.”
Alijah grunts but does as I ask, instantly restoring my comfort as I return to the Chenell Parker book that has been giving me several reasons to bask in Alijah’s need to stay in bed.
Silence echoes around the room, letting me know that Alijah has fallen asleep so quickly.
I get lost between the pages of my book until the room becomes darker, giving me a slight indication of the time.
“Lord, I ain’t even fed this man. I’m a horrible girlfriend.” My voice is but a whisper as I move with the speed of a turtle to unwrap myself from Alijah’s hold.
When I have successfully peeled myself from Alijah, I quietly leave the room and head toward the kitchen.
I don’t remember the last time Alijah or I have eaten today.
Food is necessary for both of us. Once I’m in the kitchen, I pull the refrigerator open and assess the contents before I make a quick decision about what to prepare.
“Grilled cheese and chicken soup for him, and grilled turkey and cheese with some chips for me. This is a different birthday dinner, but it’ll have to do.”
I close the refrigerator and go about the business of making an easy dinner for my man and me, one he can handle in his state.
The minimal meal takes me all of fifteen minutes to prepare as I carry two plates back to the bedroom.
Simple meal or not, the toasted bread, cheese, and hot meat cause my mouth to water.
In the room, I place the plates on the nightstand and then return to the kitchen for the soup.
Back in the room, I gently shake Alijah’s shoulder to wake him up so he can eat.
“Wake up, babe. You need to eat and take some meds.” My voice is gentle and soft as Alijah stirs awake.
Alijah doesn’t fuss or push back as he sinks his teeth into the grilled cheese like it’s a steak, and my ego immediately inflates. No words are exchanged between us as we complete our food.
“I appreciate you taking care of me, mama, especially on your birthday. You could have put my ass in a rideshare to go to the doctor or found something to do to enjoy your day. Instead, you’ve selflessly given up your holiday without making me eat it. Thank you.”
My heart sputters, and my stomach flutters with butterflies as I fight the urge to shed tears Alijah’s words shouldn’t incite. The genuine timbre of his raspy tone somehow makes his words more impactful. With a shaky voice and love in my eyes, I respond with the only words that are warranted.
“It’s not a problem.”
Alijah and I stare into each other’s eyes, and it feels like we’re both saying the three words that couples all across the world express when they reach the pivotal point of their relationship.
Heat surges through my body the longer our eyes silently communicate the sweet nothings our mouths have yet to utter.
Time feels like a betrayal of how I feel about this man.
But I have always been the first to utter those infamous three words, so I break our gaze first so I don’t break.
Going back to the food on my plate, I take another bite of my sandwich, and it’s a struggle to swallow around the lump in my throat. But I won’t break first; I can’t.
“Well, look who’s out of bed with a pep in their step,” I say days later when I look up from the coffee maker to see Alijah enter the room.
Alijah smiles a disarming and breath-stealing smile as he walks up to me and wraps his arms around my waist. His head rests in the nook of my neck, and again, I have to fight the urge to reveal my true feelings for him.
“I missed you in bed. But I decided it’s time for me to get back to work.”
“Yeah. I’m sure your coworker hasn’t jumped in to help you in your absence like you’ve done many times for him.” My smile can’t be helped as I recall an earlier conversation from the beginning of our arrangement.
Alijah chuckles in my neck before he squeezes me lightly, places a gentle kiss where his lips are, and then releases me completely.
I feel his absence and his presence immediately.
The time I’ve spent with this man has me out of sorts and more comfortable than I’ve been with any other man.
I’m not quite sure how to reconcile my feelings or process the flood of emotions that courses through me.
I continue sipping my coffee while trying not to let the words spin like a record player in my mind.
Tell him, chicken shit. What’s the worst that can happen?
The worst could be him not reciprocating my feelings. Then what?
You live to see another day.
I sigh heavily from that last statement because I’m not sure that a heartbreak from Alijah will be like any other I’ve dealt with.
Being with Alijah has been different, uncomplicated, and more meaningful.
Before, I’ve only regretted my inability to be like my mother.
My pain has only stemmed from that reality.
With Alijah, things aren’t nearly the same.
This time, my heart has joined our arrangement.