22. Sincere
Several Weeks Later . . .
Things have been quiet since I let Brian know that his torment and antics toward Journee ended with my first punch.
But the problem is my woman and her nonverbal response to the last incident.
Journee has been looking over her shoulder and making excuses for why she can’t leave her office at the boutique.
She’s been staying at my house and has only returned to her apartment to grab more of their things.
While I love having them in my space daily, it also infuriates me because the reason wasn’t Journee’s desire to be with me.
Somewhere between the last incident with Brian and now, my woman’s body is full of unspoken fear.
It’s a side effect I didn’t anticipate. But it’s also something I can’t have.
On the outside, Journee has been her normal bubbly, attentive, and loving self with Sweet Face and me.
Yet during the course of the night as she sleeps next to me, she’s been jumpy and whimpering.
While Journee isn’t aware of the beatdown I delivered to Brian, it’s not a conversation I intend to have with her.
I have to show her that there will never come a day when I don’t take care of her.
As her man, my job is to secure her, to settle her, and to free her of anything or anyone who will disturb the peace I provide for her.
That fact led to a conversation between Journee and me about what she would like to see happen regarding Sweet Face and Brian.
Her response was simple: He can either go to jail or go to hell, whichever option removes him from Milan’s presence.
During the discussion, I was able to get Journee to give me Brian’s phone.
The next day, I reached out to him from my office phone and put things in motion to grant Journee’s request. The first option was challenging without proof to get any charges to stick, especially since there isn’t a police report of him choking Journee.
With no cameras around the boutique, there is no evidence that Brian had any involvement in the window incident. So, I had to move to the second option.
Thankfully for me, the fight between Brian and me had him engaging in the call without hostility or any bass in his voice.
But of course, things weren’t as simple as I would have liked when Brian demanded a paternity test for Sweet Face.
His excuse is that maybe Journee wasn’t as innocent as he thought she was since she’s not willing to let him be in his kid’s life.
He’s lucky it was a phone call and not a face-to-face talk, or I would have punched him again.
“Do you have more than the security guard employed here? With his scrawny stature and lack of a gun, I’m not sure how effective he’ll be if BN decides to show his ass today.” Journee shifts her weight in one of the high-back chairs that’s in the conference room.
Martin and Cynthia chuckle as I peer into her eyes, hoping to restore the light that’s now dimmer than I prefer.
We’re at my office, where the paternity conversation will take place regarding Milan.
Martin is here as Journee’s documented attorney to dispute any conflict of interest from my standpoint, and Cynthia is present to obtain case notes.
A magistrate, court reporter, Brian, and his attorney should be arriving momentarily.
“You can unfurrow your brows, relax your shoulders, and breathe easy. My cousin isn’t the only one prone to violence when the need arises. I can handle anything he throws our way today.” My words are low, steady, and confident as I lean over and place a gentle kiss on her lips.
“I’m trying to. I just want this to be over. Why did he request paternity, knowing I was a fool for him? Every day I look at my baby and want to slap myself for not waiting for someone better to be her father. I hate that this is her outcome.”
“It isn’t though. Sperm will never be the only factor for paternity.”
Gentle knocks at the door prevent Journee from saying anything else, and I have to fight my urge to ball my hands into fists when I see her light tremor.
“Good afternoon, folks. I’m Magistrate Mosley, and this is Ms. Reed. She’ll be recording today’s mediation session for the court.” An older Black man who appears to be in his early to mid-sixties greets the room.
Directly behind Mr. Mosley and Ms. Reed are Brian and his attorney.
The air in the room shifts slightly upon their entry which causes me to put on my legal face.
There’s a flurry of activity as introductions, instructions, and preliminary information are outlined for everyone.
The first order of business is Magistrate Mosley reading the paternity results and confirming Brian as the person who successfully fertilized Journee’s egg.
The language used is different, but my brain only processed that detail, as Brian has never been my Sweet Face’s anything.
“Jerk,” Journee mumbles low enough that only I’m able to hear her as I smirk in reaction.
“Now that paternity is confirmed, what would you like to place on the table for the court to consider?” Magistrate Mosley wastes no time getting things moving, and it’s something I can truly appreciate.
“It is my request that BN honor his word and relinquish his rights to my daughter. She wouldn’t benefit from knowing him, and I honestly don’t know why his interests have changed since four years ago.
He hasn’t written or called me to find out if I had his child, had any of his relatives get in contact with me, send money, or anything, so why now?
” Journee’s tone is aggressive and matches the fire within her eyes as she glares in Brian’s direction.
A frown slides into place when Brian huffs, and his eyes tighten as he focuses on Journee. My displeasure increases when he opens his mouth to speak because between my last hit and his arrival, he’s clearly had a lapse in judgment.
“It’s funny that you’re acting like you didn’t up and move on me. How was I supposed to find you? I was only able to find you after I got out by stalking your parents’ house and following you to work.”
“What the hell?” Journee’s lip curls in displeasure as her nose twists as if someone is cooking chitlins.
“Stalked her? Mr. Noble, is this your argument?” Magistrate Mosley questions on the heels of Journee’s reaction.
Brian’s eyes stretch as an ‘oh shit’ expression forms like he forgot that he and Journee aren’t alone in the room.
Yeah, dumb fuck, you said that bullshit out loud.
The magistrate chastises Brian for implicating himself in criminal activity, but pisses me off when he lets Brian give reasons why I should have let Jamarion take him out of this life.
“Look. My mom thought it would look good if I acted like I was interested in the girl. I really only wanted to get back with Journee to prove that the vulnerability she found out about me didn’t prevent me from making her toes curl.”
“The girl? Mothafucka, you got my baby fucked up,” Journee snaps.
“Probably. Look, I changed my mind. I don’t want any of this. Is there something I can sign so I can be on my way?” Brian’s focus is on the magistrate as a low, humorless chuckle escapes my mouth.
My patience thins with every second it takes the magistrate to go over the process of Brian officially walking away from Sweet Face.
God must be on my side because within ten minutes, the conference room clears.
Tears slide down Journee’s cheeks, and I push back my chair, turn an unmoving Journee toward me, pull her to her feet, and wrap her in my arms. This moment might have been crazy and emotional for her, but as her shoulders shake in my embrace, I smile because it’s over.
Brian is no longer a nuisance in Sweet Face or Journee’s lives, and we can move on.
From here, I got both of them and will make it my life’s mission to erase every stain Brian caused.
“Where going, Cere?” Sweet Face questions.
The kid’s music bouncing around the interior fills me with joy as I look into the rearview mirror and give her an answer.
“It’s a surprise. But you’re going to love it.”
“We hope,” Journee whispers.
The three of us are headed to Columbus to visit the zoo since Kaigood doesn’t have one.
According to Journee, Sweet Face has never been, and she doesn’t think she’ll like or love it as I’m hoping.
But even if this trip is a complete bust, I’m looking forward to the time with my family and the memories we’ll create.
While DNA doesn’t make us related, love will always bond us.
Milan will never know what it’s like to have a man walk out on her, because I will always be the blueprint of the first man who loves her unconditionally.
“Ooh.” Milan squeals when we pull into the large parking lot of the Columbus Zoo.
A steady flow of vehicles awaits entry into the designated parking area. Adrenaline and happiness fill my body when it's my turn to pay the ten-dollar parking fee amid the influx of various cars, vans, SUVs, and the like. I determine it’s best to park in the back.
“This might be a great idea now, but it’s going to suck when it’s time to leave,” Journee says.
“Not really. I got my Sweet Face, so you better be in shape.” I wink and pull into a spot.
It takes little effort to exit the vehicle and make our way to the front, where we purchase tickets to enter.
“Would you like a picture?” a smiling zoo attendant asks once we clear security and enter.
“Sure, we do,” I say, smiling.
Once the picture is done and we’ve been given details for where we can purchase the photo, our journey begins.
Sweet Face grabs my hand instead of Journee’s, and a cheesy, peaceful grin slides into place.
This little girl doesn’t know how much she’s added to my life simply by imprinting on me the first day that I saw her.
We go to our right and walk a ways before Sweet Face stops and looks at me with a wrinkled nose and offense in her eyes.
“Ooh. Stink, Cere.” When she waves her little hand, I laugh hysterically as Journee joins in.
The red barn a few paces away is the culprit, but Sweet Face doesn’t know that. All she knows is that the smell isn’t appealing.
“It’s the animals, Sweet Face. Let’s go see which one of them it is,” I say.
“Okay. They need a bath. Don’t they, Mommy?” She turns to look at Journee, whose lips quirk with amusement as she nods her head in agreement.
“Mm-hmm.” Journee co-signs.
It takes a minute to enter the barn, and my laughter returns when Sweet Face’s offense returns as she looks around the room. Her face contorts, and her nose twists more and more with every second that passes, and I already know where this is going before she speaks.
“Ooh, no. We got to go.” She waves her free hand as she walks toward the exit without waiting for a rebuttal from her mother or me.
“I know that’s right, baby. I don’t know why my son chose to come in here.” A Black lady who’s carrying an infant strapped to her chest and one she’s seemingly dragging to the exit co-signs Sweet Face’s statement.
We follow the path of other attendees and continue through the attractions, with little commentary from Sweet Face.
In fact, she gets excited when Journee points out the reindeer pen.
Sweet Face jumps up and down excitedly as her smile forms. We keep walking, and Sweet Face’s excitement grows with each attraction we reach.
Sweet Face drops my hand and runs to the glass enclosure where a couple of cheetahs are lying completely oblivious to the people tapping the window.
“Hi, kitty,” Sweet Face says as she pushes another kid out of her way and taps on the window.
I come up beside my baby when the kid acts like he’s about to swing at her. I stare down the dad as he rolls his eyes, grabs his child, and walks away grumbling incoherent words.
“You and Milan are doing the most,” Journee whispers.
“Not really. He already has his time at the window. It’s Sweet Face’s turn now.”
Journee shakes her head as I shrug and Sweet Face continues tapping on the glass despite the cheetahs sleeping unbothered.
We stand here for a couple more minutes before Sweet Face gets bored and ready to move on.
My chest expands and puffs out when Sweet Face reconnects our hands as the journey continues.
Memories of today are definitely being made, and I couldn’t be happier.