31. Lee
Lee
By the time Van put me on Game of Thrones, I was already six months pregnant and way too invested in people with swords and family problems. We had been on his couch for most of the evening, half under a blanket with Snoop stretched out on the floor nearby and Holly curled against my leg like she belonged there too.
Van had been trying to get me to watch the show for weeks, swearing I was going to like it if I gave it a chance. I hated that he had been right.
I was halfway through asking why everybody in that damn show had to be related to somebody they were trying to kill when the craving hit me. “I want an oatmeal cream pie.”
Van didn’t look away from the TV. “Okay.”
I waited, but he didn’t move. “I said I want an oatmeal cream pie.”
This time he glanced over. “I heard you.”
“Then why you still sitting there?”
“Because you wanting something don’t automatically mean I gotta move.”
I stared at him, and he stared right back before his eyes dropped to my stomach. “Don’t use the baby.”
“I wasn’t.”
“You were about to.”
“I was about to say your god-” I caught myself and changed course. “I was about to say this baby wants one too.”
Van laughed and turned back toward the TV. “You got some at home?”
“If I had some at home, would I be sitting here telling you about it?”
“You been wanting one for, what, twenty seconds?”
“Pregnancy cravings are serious.”
“Apparently.”
I shifted under the blanket and tried to ignore it. That lasted maybe a minute.
“I want one bad.”
Van sighed, reached for the remote, and paused the show. That made me smile because I knew I’d won.
“You happy?”
“Very.”
“Get your shoes.”
Twenty minutes later, we were in Walmart for some damn oatmeal cream pies.
I had on black leggings, one of Van’s hoodies, and slides because I wasn’t dressing up to go buy oatmeal cream pies at night. Van had on sweats and a T-shirt, pushing the cart while I kept changing my mind about whether I wanted the regular box or the family size.
“The family size,” I said.
“You live by yourself.”
“And?”
“That’s a lot of oatmeal cream pies.”
“I’m pregnant.”
“That excuse got a lot of mileage.”
“It got three more months.”
He laughed and tossed the family-size box into the cart.
We were cutting through the baby aisle when somebody called, “Evander?”
Van stopped, and when I looked over, I recognized her immediately. It was his cousin from the estate sale, the one who had been pregnant then and asked me who did my lashes. Only now the stomach was gone, and there was a baby carrier sitting in the cart beside a couple cans of formula.
“Hey,” I said, smiling. “I remember you.”
She laughed. “I remember you too. Your lashes still look good.”
“Thank you.”
Van leaned against our cart. “What’s up, Skye?”
She hugged him, spoke to me again, then her eyes dropped to my stomach and stayed there just long enough for me to know exactly what she was thinking.
Van caught it too. “Don’t.”
Skye looked back at him. “I ain’t said nothing.”
“You didn’t have to.”
I laughed. “She definitely had a question.”
“See?” Van said, pointing at her.
Skye ignored him and looked at me instead. “How far along are you?”
“Six months.”
Her eyes slid right back to Van.
He shook his head. “Baby ain’t mine.”
I turned toward him. “Evander, she ain’t even ask that.”
“She was about to.”
Skye laughed. “I was wondering.”
“Exactly,” Van said.
“That still don’t mean you had to announce it like a disclaimer,” I told him.
Skye’s husband laughed from beside the cart while she reached down and pulled the blanket back from the baby carrier.
“This is Tobias,” she said.
I leaned closer. “Oh my God. This who was in your stomach last time I saw you?”
“Yep. This is him.”
“He’s so big.”
Skye smiled down at him. “You should’ve seen him when he first came home. He was so little.”
Tobias was asleep with one fist tucked beside his face, cheeks full enough to make me want to touch them even though I knew better.
“He’s cute.”
“Thank you.”
Van leaned over to look at him too, and Skye started telling him about Tobias not liking the formula they had been using and how they were back in Walmart trying another one.
After a minute, her eyes dropped to the oatmeal cream pies sitting in our cart.
“Y’all grocery shopping together now?” she asked.
“No,” I said. “I wanted oatmeal cream pies.”
Van looked at me. “At ten o’clock at night.”
“The baby wanted them.”
He shook his head. “There it go.”
Skye looked between us with a little smile on her face. I had a feeling she was about to go home and make this everybody’s business.
Van caught the look too. “I know that face.”
“What face?” Skye asked.
“The one you make right before you go tell everybody something.”
She rolled her eyes. “Evander, leave me alone.”
I laughed. The way he was looking at her told me this probably wasn’t their first time having this conversation.
We talked another few minutes before Skye and her husband headed toward checkout. The second they were out of earshot, I looked at Van.
“She finna tell.”
“Yep.”
I looked down at my stomach, then back at him. “By tomorrow this probably your baby.”
Van pushed the cart forward. “Tonight.”
I laughed and followed him toward self-checkout.
A few days later, I found out Skye had done exactly what me and Van knew she was gonna do and ran her mouth.
Van was at my house helping put together a shelf for the baby’s room when he said, “My mama want you to come eat Sunday.”
I looked over at him. “Skye told everybody about Walmart, didn’t she?”
He kept working on the shelf. “Yep.”
I laughed. “What she tell them?”
“That she ran into me with my pregnant neighbor at Walmart late at night buying oatmeal cream pies.”
“That ain’t even a lie.”
“No. The lie came when everybody decided I got you pregnant.”
That made me laugh harder. “You told them the baby ain’t yours, right?”
“Several times.”
“And?”
Van finally looked up. “Half of ’em still think it is.”
I shook my head, still laughing. “Your family messy.”
“You met Skye. She ain’t exactly subtle.”
“Okay, but why your mama wanna meet me if she know you ain’t my baby daddy?”
He shrugged and went back to the shelf. “I talk about you.”
That shut me up.
“You talk about me?”
“Don’t start.”
“I’m not starting nothing. I just ain’t know I was a topic at the Coleman family meetings.”
Van laughed. “It ain’t like that.”
“Then how is it?”
“I talk about you sometimes. They wanna meet you. That’s it.”
I looked at him for a second. So this man had really been sitting around talking about me to his family.
“So Sunday dinner?”
“Yeah.”
“And they all gon’ be staring at my stomach trying to decide if you lying?”
“Probably.”
I laughed. “Sounds fun.”
By Sunday afternoon, I was riding with Van out to Scenic Drive wondering why the hell I had agreed to meet this man’s whole family. By the time we pulled up, there were already cars lined along the driveway and parked on the grass.
I looked through the windshield at all of them. “This Sunday dinner or a family reunion?”
Van laughed. “Relax.”
“I am relaxed.”
He glanced at me. “You sound nervous.”
“I’m not nervous.”
The look he gave me said he didn’t believe that, so I told him to shut up and got out before he could say anything else.
The second we walked inside and three different people looked from me to my stomach to Van, I knew Skye had been busy.
His mama looked up from the kitchen and smiled. “So this is Lee.”
The way she said my name made me glance at Van, but I smiled and stepped forward. “Hey.”
“I’m Denise.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“I been hearing about you for months.”
I looked at Van, and of course now he couldn’t look at me. Before I could mess with him about it, Skye came around the corner holding Tobias.
“There she is.”
I pointed at her. “You started all this.”
Skye laughed. “All I did was tell what I saw.”
“You told them I got my neighbor pregnant,” Van said.
“That was everybody else’s conclusion.”
“Liar.”
I started laughing. “See, I knew you ran back talking.”
“I gave an accurate report.”
“With commentary,” Van added.
The rest of the family wasn’t much better. One of Van’s aunts asked how far along I was, then looked straight at him and asked if he was sure the baby wasn’t his.
Van nearly choked on his drink. “Auntie.”
“What? I’m asking.”
“No, ma’am,” I said, laughing. “He is definitely not the daddy.”
She looked at Van anyway. “You sure?”
He stared at her. “How the hell would Lee not know who got her pregnant?”
“I asked you.”
That sent everybody around us into laughter, and after that I stopped worrying about being the pregnant stranger Van had brought to Sunday dinner.
His mama fixed me a plate before I could tell her I wasn’t that hungry. One of his uncles asked about my nail business, and Skye eventually handed Tobias over to me while she went to make him a bottle.
I settled him against my chest, careful with his little head.
He was still small enough that one of his hands barely wrapped around my finger.
Then my own baby kicked, and I looked down at my stomach.
Holding Tobias while mine moved around inside me had me feeling all kinds of ways, and I wasn’t about to start sorting through none of them in the middle of Van’s mama’s house.
When I looked up, Van was watching me from across the room.
“Why you over there staring?”
“Just looking.”
“Well, look somewhere else.”
Van smiled into his cup, which irritated me mostly because it made me want to smile too.
By the time we left, I had eaten too much, Skye had invited herself to come get her nails done, and Denise had hugged me twice.
I waited until Van pulled away from the house before I said, “Your family nice.”
“Told you.”
“You did not tell me half of them still thought you was my baby daddy.”
He laughed. “You still stuck on that?”
“Yes.”
“They know now.”
I looked over at him. “Do they?”
He thought about it for a second. “Probably not.”
I laughed and settled back into the seat while the radio played low between us.
A few minutes later, I looked over at him. “You really talk about me?”
Van sighed. “Here we go.”
“I’m just asking.”
“You already asked.”
“And you gave me some half-answer.”
He glanced at me before looking back at the road. “Yeah, Lee. I talk about you.”
I looked out the window before he could see me smiling. This man had me meeting his mama, eating Sunday dinner with his family, and apparently getting discussed when I wasn’t around.
Casual my ass.