Chapter 14 Riq Talk to text
As soon as I pull into a parking spot in Take Flight’s packed lot, my cell vibrates. Thinking it’s Rebel, I grab it out of my middle console. When I see the screen, I just laugh and shake my head. It’s a text from Tyriq.
Riq: You made it?
Me: Yes, but aren’t you driving?
Riq: Talk to text
Me: Still stop. I’m here and I see Rebel pulling up too.
Riq: Bet. Have fun and eat.
Me: Oh I am. I think I have my appetite back cause I’m hungry AF.
Riq: Call me when you make it back home.
Me: Yes sir??
I just shake my head as I stare at the screen. Tyriq has been so attentive, so sweet, and on top of everything I do. He checks on me all day, is obsessed with what I eat and drink, and tries to make sure I don’t overdo it.
It’s only been five days, and while I’m still processing the fact that I’m about to be somebody’s mother, he has fully accepted his father role. I would have never pegged that about him either but he’s proof positive that you can’t judge a book by its cover.
“You ready?” Rebel calls out. She must have gotten out of her ride and walked over while I was texting him. She’s standing outside of my passenger side so I roll my window down.
“Yeah. Let me get out.”
I roll my window up, kill my engine, then get out.
She meets me at the back of my Jeep. We look each other up and down then laugh.
We never, and I mean never, dress alike.
While we both know how to put shit on, our tastes are totally opposite.
She’s tomboy sexy and I’m fly girl sexy, both turning heads in any room with our own distinct styles.
However today, we are damn near twins, both rocking purple, body-fitting, sleeveless dresses.
Our shoes are the only things different.
She’s wearing cute purple and white dunks and I have on my purple patent leather Tory Burch sandals.
“Not you wearing DAZ colors, bitch!” I exclaim. Not only is she my bestie but she’s also my line sister. We pledged together and she had my back in the line just like she does in real life. We both love our DAZ but I rep it more than she does.
“My heart bleeds purple and white. I dreamed of being DAZ, day and night. Then one day, I crossed the line. A DAZ girl, proud and fine,” she says, reciting one of our mini chants.
“Okay!” I gush before pulling her in for a much-needed hug. I’ve missed her. While we talk every damn day, between my shifts at the hospital and her online classes and coaching job, our face-to-face time isn’t as frequent as I would like.
“I hope you are ready to drink because a margarita flight hates to see me coming,” she says as we walk to the door.
“You got that. I think I might be coming down with something,” I say, dancing around the truth. We need to be seated before I spill my tea.
“Contagious?” she asks and I grin, thinking about how I blurted that out to Tyriq.
“No, not at all.”
“Well, I’ll drink enough for the both of us.”
“And I can be your designated driver.”
“Girl, if I get that fucked up, Kassir will come right here and get my drunk ass.” We get to the door and there’s a long ass line. “I’m so glad you made a reservation,” she says and I agree.
Take Flight is always crowded but Friday evenings and Sundays are the worst. To avoid this long ass line, not only did I book a table online, but we decided to come at four, before the real Friday crowd gets here. By eight, it’s a wrap. Every seat, booth, table, and section will be filled.
“Hell, me too. I’m ready to sit down, eat some good ass food, and catch up. Being in that line is not the business,” I admit.
We walk inside and maneuver through the crowd of people waiting up to the host stand.
I give her my name and we are seated right away into one of the cushioned booths.
The vibe, of course, is lit. It’s a full, sit down restaurant with an extensive menu, but it also has a club vibe.
In a few hours, the music switches from a sound system to a live DJ, hookah service begins, and bottle service is available.
The menu changes after eight as well. This five-page menu reduces to two.
As Rebel and I look over the menu, our server approaches and we order our drinks. While I order a Shirley Temple and a water with lime, she orders the margarita of the month flight that has an original, Ciderita, mango, and black cherry. We will order our food after we get our drinks.
“Do you know what you want?” Rebel asks.
While looking over the menu and praying my stomach stays quiet and food friendly, I say, “You know I eat with my eyes so I’m torn between shrimp wonton tacos, swamp pasta, or the Monte Cristo with the beer battered onion rings.
” My appetite is back, my stomach feels calm, and all three of these look delicious as hell.
“Um, that’s random as hell. I was hoping you would help me out because I don’t have a clue what I want. You just made it worse cause that all sounds good. Where is the Monte Cristo?”
“The back page, specialty sandwiches and wraps.”
She flips her menu and I scan mine again. When the parmesan-crusted, grilled chicken tenders catch my eye, I close it and shake my head. If I keep looking, I’ll never decide on one thing.
“Let’s do the onion rings as an appetizer so we can have those and something else.”
“Perfect. That sandwich looks so good. I can get that and sub the onion rings for the spinach salad. Yeah. That’s what I’m getting,” I say with finality.
“And I’m going to get the wonton tacos. I wonder if I can mix up the three: one shrimp, one chicken, and one beef.”
“I’m sure you can.”
Right on time, our server returns with my water, my Shirley Temple, and her mouth-watering margaritas that I can’t have. Then we order our appetizer and meals. Rebel’s combination request for the tacos can be done for a small upcharge.
Our server leaves and Rebel goes for her Ciderita first. It used to be one of my favorites.
It’s garnished with a green apple slice and the glass is filled with the perfect mix of tequila, lime juice, apple cider, dash of cinnamon, and agave.
I watch as she takes her first sip then I grab my water cup. When I do, she grabs hold of my wrist.
“Not you, Miss I don’t see the point of an Apple Watch with one on and with this bad-ass strap. When did this happen and what kind of strap is this?” she asks as she examines my watch.
On Sunday, when Tyriq and I went to Morningside for breakfast, we stopped at the mall first so he could grab a fit.
The short stop turned into a whole ass shopping trip.
He left with his new fit and kicks on and his original stuff in a bag.
I, on the other hand, left with several bottles of oil from the new pop-up shop.
He picked a few that he liked on my skin.
I also got two new pairs of Hokas for work, the slides I’m wearing plus two other pairs, and this Apple Watch and two Coach straps, one silver and one gold.
He insisted on the shoes and watch because I need to be comfortable on my feet at work and because he wants to make sure I’m sitting enough at work.
He’s so serious about me taking it easy.
He actually looks at my stats for walking and standing.
At first, I protested, but I have to admit, it’s endearing.
“I got it Sunday from the mall. The band came from the Coach store.”
“I’ve been trying to get yo’ ass to get a watch for years. What made you break down and get one?”
I wanted her to be on her second or third margarita before I made my grand announcement but there’s no need to procrastinate. This is actually a good segue. So after downing a few gulps of my Shirley Temple, I turn to face her.
“Tyriq got it.”
“Okay, Riq,” she gushes. “He really likes you. Please give that man a real chance.”
With raised eyebrows, I smirk. “I’m giving him more than a damn chance. I’m pregnant,” I blurt.
She jerks her head back then squints. As I anxiously await her response, I don’t do or say anything.
When her eyes return to their regular size, she sits all the way up in the booth, perfect posture, then a big ass, silly grin takes over her face.
She grabs my hand and her grin drops into that aww look.
“Bestie! Bitch! Oh my God!” she screeches. “It’s April but we are way past the first. This shit better not be a joke.”
Thank God for the music drowning her out because she’s so loud and excited. The look on her face is pure joy and I love and appreciate it so much.
“No joke. I’m pregnant. If I wasn’t, I would have a flight my damn self. It’s real.”
“Yes!” Her arms fly around me and she squeezes me while she rocks from side to side.
As she does, she fires out a million ass questions.
“I’m going to be an auntie and godmomma.
When did you find out? When’s your due date?
Do you know what you’re having? What about Riq?
Is he happy? Well, I know he is, right?” She releases me then stares, obviously awaiting my answers.
“Slow down, shit,” I say while grinning.
Her excitement is contagious as hell. “I found out that day I went in to cover a shift. I wasn’t feeling too good, and because we had a few people out with the flu, I got tested too.
No flu, just a baby. But I don’t know my due date yet.
I have an appointment next Friday and hopefully I can find out then.
I’m about six or seven weeks late though. ”
Her eyes roam for a quick second, then she says, “Maybe you’ll have a Christmas baby!”
“Oh gosh. That sounds so real.”
“Well, it is. It could be December or January. We can have a holiday themed baby shower.”
“Slow down. I’m just now wrapping my head around this. Let me get through this appointment next week first before we start planning a shower. I need baby steps, literally.”
“You’ve always wanted a baby. I know you are excited.”
“I did but I saw this happening at another time in my life though. But the excitement is building. I just need to move past being scared, nervous, anxious, and did I say nervous. I’m a whole ass nurse but I swear all of my medical knowledge is out of the window.
I’m just a nervous mother-to-be who doesn’t have a clue what I’m going to do,” I admit honestly.
Nothing prepares you for being pregnant, nothing.
Being a nurse doesn’t eliminate the worries and fears a mother has.
I’ve been pregnant for three minutes and I’m already second guessing things, making changes, and thinking about contingencies for problems I don’t even have.
This morning, when I walked downstairs, I reach for my handrail and held it all the way down.
I never hold on when I go up or down my stairs but today I did.
Even this damn Shirley Temple. I never order this but I wanted a soda and Sprite is caffeine free.
I’m pregnant now so I need to limit my caffeine intake.
Things have changed and I’m nervous about it.
“You’re going to power through this like a pro and I’m going to be there every step. I can go Friday if it’s in the morning.”
“I have an afternoon appointment but Tyriq is going.”
“He is? Perfect. So he’s excited?”
“Very. This watch is so he can check to make sure I’m not standing all day at work.”
“I love that. Let him be excited and do everything he wants.”
“I’m trying. You know I’m Miss Independent but I promised him, after a little debate though, that I’ll try to lean on him some.”
“Some? Lean all the way on that man. His tall ass can handle it.”
“But he has a lot going on too, finals, graduation, the NBA Combine, and the draft.”
“And he’s an All-American champion with a gang of agents. He’ll be fine, and after the draft, he can buy all the help you will need,” she says and I just shake my damn head.
“Bitch!”
She smirks then shrugs. “Well, it’s the truth.”
“Does she need to start the vitamins today?” Tyriq asks the doctor.
“Yes, she can or she can wait until tomorrow. Either way is fine,” Dr. Blackwell says.
“What about the iron for her anemia? We need to get those too, right?” he follows.
“It doesn’t have to be. There are a number of prenatal vitamins that have iron. As long as it has twenty-five to twenty-seven milligrams of iron that’s fine.”
“Bet. Twenty-five to twenty-seven,” he says while nodding.
We arrived at Total Women’s Care at two and Tyriq has been asking questions nonstop.
He asked more than me and it’s actually kind of cute.
This tall, fine, balling, DP nigga is a softie for me and our little baby in my belly.
During my pelvic exam, he was down there with the doctor instead of being by my side.
“If there aren’t any more questions, I’ll leave you alone so you can get dressed.
Leave the gown on the table. We are in this together and our tentative journey will be outlined in your documents when you check out.
November will be here soon. Congratulations again, Mommy and Daddy,” she says while smiling.
She stands then sanitizes her hands before walking out of the room.
As soon as she’s gone, he stands and helps me off the table.
When my feet hit the tiled floor, he pulls me into him.
No words are exchanged as we both process everything.
In the last hour and a half, thanks to a vaginal ultrasound, we heard our baby’s heartbeat, got our first picture, and learned our due date.
November twenty-fifth, we will be parents.
When I lift my teary eyes to meet his, he smiles, then leans in and kisses me so softly and tenderly.
The moment our lips break, he kisses my forehead then peppers more kisses down my face back to my lips.
This second kiss is soul snatching and I feel my damn legs get shaky.
His hands move to my stomach when he frees my tongue from his mouth.
“We got a baby in there,” he utters.
“Yeah, our little gummy bear,” I gush and he frowns, just like he did when I first said it. The minute the picture was on the screen that was the first thought that came to mind. My baby looked like a little cute gummy bear.
“Stop saying that,” he scoffs.
“He or she will be the cutest little gummy bear,” I tell him before lifting and kissing his chin. “Untie me so I can get dressed. We have to be at my parents’ by six.”
“You ready for this?” he asks.
“Actually, I am. She’s been begging me to bring a man to meet them and for a grandbaby. Tonight, she’s getting both. Telling them is one of the least stressful parts of this.”
His hand cuffs my chin then he lifts my head. “Not a man. Your man,” he corrects and I can’t help but smile. Our old arrangement is definitely nonexistent now.