8. Bigger Than Survival
Living with Jared for the past six weeks felt so natural that it almost scared me.
He was trying to be old school and get his own place.
I shut that shit down immediately. I had spent too much time being without him.
While he promised to find a place close to us, no amount of distance would do for me.
His presence was the missing piece in my heart and my home.
It felt as though, somehow, my body had already prepared space for him years before he ever officially moved in.
His sneakers now stayed beside the front door.
His duffel bag became a whole side of the closet because I loved shopping for him.
His cologne lived beside my perfume in the bathroom.
His voice carried through our home in the mornings as he argued with ESPN commentators, as if they could hear him through the television.
And the craziest part was that my boys adjusted to him being there like they had been waiting on it, too. Well, most of them.
“Josiah!”
“I didn’t even do nothing!”
“You absolutely did!”
I closed my eyes briefly while standing at the stove, stirring grits, listening to the sound of Josiah mumbling under his breath, and being disrespectful before eight in the morning. I hated that his attitude had become a regular occurrence in our household.
Demir sat at the kitchen island, finishing homework quietly while trying not to laugh.
“You can’t leave cereal bowls under the couch cushions, JoJo,” Jared called from the living room.
“It was one bowl!”
“One bowl turns into roaches.”
“We don’t even got roaches!”
“And we not gon’ get them either.”
I bit back a smile. The thing about Josiah was he loved Jared deeply. Jared was the only consistent father figure he had ever known. Antwon drifted in and out whenever it benefited him emotionally, but Jared? Jared showed up. Every time, but now that he was physically here all the time?
Josiah suddenly didn’t know how to act.
Thirteen was already a hard age to add abandonment issues and emotional confusion. Baby, that child woke up ready to spar with my man daily, and it never seemed to bother Jare, but it pissed me off.
“You’re not my dad anyway,” Josiah muttered from the hallway.
The house went quiet instantly. Demir looked up slowly from his worksheet, and I tightened my fingers around my spoon by the stove.
I braced myself for Jared’s temper. After all, he had every right to be hurt by that comment. But when I looked toward the hallway, Jared just stood there staring at Josiah calmly with his arms folded across his chest.
“Nah,” he agreed quietly. “Not biologically, you’re correct.
But I’m still the one making sure you get everything you need in this lifetime, so I’m your father.
And even though you keep trying to have pissing contests with me, JoJo, I’m still going to make sure you make the basketball team because fear got your ass bent out of shape. ”
Josiah rolled his eyes dramatically before storming toward the kitchen.
But I caught it, that tiny twitch at the corner of his mouth when Jared brought up basketball. JoJo was anxious, and instead of Jared yelling at him or punishing him like I almost did, he saw right through him.
Lord. I loved Jared down for that. Without realizing it, he was showing me how to be a more patient mom.
Jared swaggered to the stove in his jeans and a button-up shirt a second later.
The way his muscles filled out the dress shirt distracted me from the grits.
I was over here, going into heat, just staring at him, wishing Mir and JoJo were already on the school bus.
Lately, my thoughts have been all over the place.
My breasts had been sore for almost a week.
I was constantly exhausted. And my cycle was three weeks late.
But there was no way. Absolutely no way I was pregnant.
Not at forty-four with newly diagnosed PCOS.
Maybe this was perimenopause? Jared came behind me, wrapping one arm around my waist while peeking into the pot.
“You put cheese in these?”
“You ask me that every morning.”
“Cause sometimes you commit crimes against breakfast and want to add sugar.”
I snorted softly while leaning back against him automatically. “Don’t come for my sweet grits. Food can have duality.”
That had become my favorite part of living together.
The casual affection and sleep tangled together, and how I melted at his forehead kisses as we passed each other in the kitchen.
It was the way he rubbed my thighs while we watched movies.
Twenty-four years of longing had turned domestic so beautifully.
Jared kissed the side of my neck slowly.
“You okay, Millie Millz?”
Damn. That old, stupid nickname from when we were kids. I told him I wanted to be a millionaire off of doing hair like Madam C. J. Walker, still melted me.
“Mhm.”
“You sure?”
His hand slid lower against my stomach gently.
And for one dangerous second, I melted into his touch.
My chest constricted at the thought of us sharing a part of each other.
But I shook the thought off. It was normal for Jared to touch my stomach, touch my neck, hell, he touched every part of me whenever and wherever he pleased.
I turned around quickly before my face could betray me.
“Are we having lunch today?” he asked.
I smirked immediately. “I’m having a girls’ lunch with YaYa and Channy.”
“I guess I can share as long as you leave room for coffee after.” He smiled.
Demir gagged dramatically from the island. “Please stop flirting before school.”
I laughed while Jared pointed at him. “Mir, finish those math problems.”
“Yes, Dad.”
The words slipped out naturally. And I saw the way Jared paused for half a second afterward.
He was visibly emotional, but he didn’t want to make a big deal out of Demir’s words.
Even though Jare was a natural at loving us, I knew that fatherhood still caught him off guard sometimes.
My heart squeezed watching him help Demir with fractions and getting him off to the school bus on time while simultaneously yelling at SportsCenter on his phone.
This man fit into my life so naturally that it terrified me a little.
Like maybe God finally decided I had struggled enough.
Jared had left for the day to meet X and Zay.
Although we were set financially, he couldn’t sit still, so Zay suggested he meet with them to discuss if he wanted a role within Crown Logistics.
Jare wouldn’t just agree to it without learning the ins and outs of their current operation.
He loved X and Zay, but he was his own man first and foremost.
I sat at home taking advantage of my day off.
Despite the relaxation I should have felt, my emotions were all over the place.
I was nervous about JoJo’s terrible attitude and anxious about AJ’s organic chemistry exam.
He had told me he’s been studying for over a month and still doesn’t understand what the hell is going on.
I was hopeful about the life God was giving Jare and me, but I was also terrified of how fast it was moving.
Yes, I was the conductor here, and I wouldn’t let him out of my sight, but I worried about whether Jared was happy.
Does he feel fulfilled?
Before prison, Jared was a boss man who needed to have his hands in several pots at once. I worried he might be bored without a career venture of his own. In addition to all my fears, I was also hormonal. My annoying ass almost cried when Jared pulled out of the driveway earlier.
By the time I met YaYa and Chanel for lunch, I had officially convinced myself I was either pregnant or dying. There was no in-between. I had thrown up twice before I left the house and had to rebrush my teeth and freshen up.
The three of us sat at a rooftop restaurant downtown, with soft Afrobeats playing through the overhead speakers. YaYa looked regal in a cream fitted dress, and Chanel was more relaxed with a cute jean dress with designer sunglasses sitting on top of her head.
Meanwhile, I felt dazed and fatigued. I should have skipped lunch for a nap.
“Why do you keep staring off into space like that?” YaYa asked while opening her menu.
“Because she’s probably tired from getting her back blown out for the last six weeks straight,” Chanel answered before I could. “That’s dickmatization.”
I almost choked on my water. “Chanel!”
“What?” She grinned shamelessly. “Every time I call my brother to grab food or chill, I get the same response. Of course, Baby Bear, but after me and Milla do this or after me and Milla do that.”
YaYa laughed. “Don’t be a hater, Channy. She waited twenty-four years for Jared to come home. We expected this.”
Channy laughed loudly. “No, seriously, Milla, you used to be down real bad, and you tried to hide it like we ain’t always know y’all were in love for real.”
I rolled my eyes immediately. “I was not.”
Both of them stared at me silently.
“Okay, maybe a little.”
“A little?” YaYa barked out, laughing. “Camilla Renee Anthony, you used to write Mrs. Camilla Davis in notebooks even when you were with Twon’s ass.”
“Bitch, hush.”
“That’s why you were never pressed to go with us to those King parties. As long as you had your pen and paper, you were gonna be writing to your man,” YaYa added.
“I remember when you got mad at me because I told Jared you liked him in church,” Chanel chimed in.
“You were messy!”
“You loved me for it, though.”
Unfortunately, she wasn’t wrong. I smiled softly, looking down at the menu, because after all these years, I still couldn’t fully process that Jared was finally mine openly.
No prison phones. No visitation room, kisses, or guards yelling time warnings.
Hell, for years, I was worried that if Jackie found out, she would keep Jazzy from her dad.
Now Jazzy was grown and even came over for dinner twice.