24. Sincere
A Month Later . . .
Life has a way of forcing you to remember the blessings that you didn’t see coming but are grateful to receive at the same time.
As I lay with my back against my headboard, with my right leg crossed over the left, Sweet Face’s little leg awkwardly stretched over mine, and Journee on the left of her, I know that God doesn’t play about me.
This moment is the desire my heart has always had, despite my upbringing.
A woman to love and a child who shows me her affections is a flex that I will always cherish.
I found out after asking Journee to move in that she was on a month-to-month lease, so we didn’t have to delay our cohabitation.
As an incentive and a sign of my elation, I paid for the time required to release Journee from her unit.
Then we had a packing-party weekend, and I got Sweet Face and her out of there.
I needed them under my roof immediately, so wasting time wasn’t an option.
Sweet Face adjusts with ease and loves it when the three of us watch TV in my bed.
I’m the most content I’ve ever been, and nothing can change the feeling for me.
“Welcome to tonight’s broadcast. We’re taking you live to an unfolding scene.” The voice causes me to shift my gaze from Sweet Face’s sleeping form to the mounted TV.
“Oh my God!” Journee says, and my head turns to see her mouth agape just as the night anchor’s voice sounds.
“Good evening, Leslie. I’m on the scene of a fatal shooting.
Police were called to the four hundred block of Uphill Court around nine for reports of multiple gunshots.
We arrived shortly after the scene was secured, but as you can see, people are everywhere.
What’s interesting is that no one will talk to KPD or us. ”
“Oh my Lord,” Journee says again.
“Can you provide any details as to what the police are saying?” the in-studio news anchor, Leslie, questions.
“According to Detective Brummel, they arrived and found a thirty-something Black male suffering from multiple gunshot wounds. He was taken to Goodward Medical Center but didn’t survive his injuries. I’ve learned that the victim’s name is Brian Noble.”
A gasp escapes from Journee, but I’m too invested in the news anchor’s report to look over at her again. My mind instantly wanders from the information as I pick up my phone and send a message to Jamarion.
Me:
Do I need to get prepared?
My attention returns to the story as the reporter continues with more information.
“From what I’ve gathered from a few people who didn’t wish to be on camera or give a direct statement is that an unknown person walked up to the victim and shot him without saying a word. Then he walked off. KPD is investigating, and the story is still developing. Back to you in the studio.”
“Thanks, Whitney.” Leslie goes on to other news around Kaigood, and I cut the TV off.
I then turn to face Journee, who sits stock-still as she blinks continuously. I’m not sure what’s on her mind, but mine is everywhere.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” I say in a calm and gentle tone.
A cute snore escapes Sweet Face’s mouth as Journee’s and my eyes shift downward to her. A smile upturns Journee’s lip that I easily match, as adoration increases the beat of my heart.
“We’re free,” Journee whispers.
“You’ve been that way since the day you cussed me out,” I declare with confidence.
My phone chimes, and it pops the bubble of love that flows between Journee and me in this moment. For some reason, my heart rate increases when I pick up my phone and see Jamarion’s name. Air expels from my lungs when I read the reply to my text from moments ago.
Jamarion:
It wasn’t me this time. I’m mad about that more than the outcome.
Me:
Say less.
My two-word reply is all I have as my focus shifts back to the two people who matter most in this scenario.
“Do you want to talk about anything? Any feelings that I need to help you sort through?”
“Nope. According to my mother, vengeance should always be God’s job.” Journee shrugs, leans down, and places a kiss on Sweet Face’s cheek which lets me know that all is well.
“Shout out to the King of Kings for being our vindicator.” I smirk as the tension leaves my shoulders, and the air around the room becomes light again.
The knowledge of Brian’s death doesn’t fill me with sorrow.
In fact, it relieves me because, this time, he won’t be able to go back on his word.
Now, I’m free to give Journee the love she deserves and Sweet Face the father who will never abandon her.
Shout-out to karma for leveling the playing field, though.
“Daddy, Mommy sick.”
Time stands still, and so does my body as I freeze when my mind registers the first word out of Sweet Face’s mouth. All of my thoughts evaporate as I replay the three words that will forever hold weight in my heart. Milan just called me Daddy.
“Daddy? You hear me?” Sweet Face’s right hand goes to her waist as she gives me a hard expression.
Oh my God! She said it again.
My brain spirals, but I don’t have time to keep internally melting when Sweet Face huffs and her eyes flash with anger.
“I’m sorry, Sweet Face. Uh, where is she?”
“Kischen. Come on.” Sweet Face stomps her little foot, and it forces me to shake off my shock, awe, and brain spasm.
Sweet Face grabs my hand once I’m within her reach and practically drags me down the steps as I fight to return to normal.
My antennas go up when we reach the kitchen, and my eyes zero in on Journee hovering over the trash can.
I release Sweet Face’s hand and swiftly jump into action.
My hands soothingly rub Journee’s back as she dry heaves.
When she lifts to her full height, my chest constricts when I see the tears sliding down her face.
“What do you need?”
“You to promise me forever. My period is late.”
“That’s a foregone conclusion. But in this moment. What do you need?
My head jerks back as my mouth opens and closes as my brain spirals for the second time in a matter of minutes.
I’ve seen many movies on this subject matter, and yet it still feels like I’m in the Twilight Zone about the meaning of Journee’s words.
I have the ability to dissect the holes in a defendant’s case.
But right now, I need Blue’s Clues and Dora the Explorer to break this down in layman’s terms.
“I think I need to take a pregnancy test.”
I nod continuously as I process the simplicity within Journee’s statement. I walk her to the living room with Sweet Face hot on our heels.
“I’ll be back. You stay here.” I pull the ottoman closer and prop her feet up like I’m scared she’ll break during my absence. “Keep an eye on Mommy for me, Sweet Face.”
“Okay, Daddy.” She gives me the symbol with her fingers as Journee’s eyes stretch from hearing her second word.
“Pretty cool, huh? I guess she didn’t wait for permission to accept me fully. I’ll be back.”
I kiss Journee’s lips and practically jog out of the room and out of the house to hit up the drug store not far from here.
My heart beats like a drummer at a rock concert when I exit my driveway a couple of seconds later.
Journee and I have been getting it in, so I’m not sure why I never considered the consequences of our actions.
But as I make my way to purchase a test that will provide answers for her late period and new sick bout, I can’t help but be hopeful.
It takes me no time to pull into an empty spot, put my vehicle in park, exit, and run into the entrance like I’m trying to beat an impending thunderstorm.
“Which aisle are the pregnancy tests in?” I ask the wide-eyed store clerk.
“A-aisle seven.”
I nod and then jog to the location I need and pull up short when I see the array of options for me to choose from.
Clearblue. First Response. Equate. The names blur as I bite my bottom lip and shift from side to side.
I speed-read through the information on the front of each box, unsure what any of it means.
Hell, all I need is something that will say yes or no.
Words like ‘six days sooner’ make my head swim because I have no idea what that timetable means.
My anxiousness and urgency to return to Journee force me to grab the first four boxes as I pray they’ll do the job. My pulse races, and I run back to the front counter to check out.
“Did you find what you needed, sir?” the same clerk asks.
“I hope so.” I retrieve my wallet and open and close it as I wait for all the tests to be rung up.
Five minutes later, I’m back in my vehicle and racing out of the lot back toward my house.
When I pull into my driveway, I open my door before realizing that I haven’t put it in park.
I dang near twisted my ankle with how fast I had to pull a Fred Flintstone while putting the gear into park.
Sweat forms on my brow when I grab the bag and make a mad dash for the front door.
“You otay, Daddy?” The concern in my Sweet Face’s voice would be funny if I could settle the racing of my heart.
I can’t respond or react to her more than a quick nod as my sights shift to Journee. Her inquisitive eyes are on me, and her nose scrunches cutely.
“How many tests did you buy?”
“Four. I couldn’t understand any of them, so hopefully, one of them tells us what we need to know.”
Journee shakes her head, stands, removes the bag from my hand, and then lightly kisses my lips, calming me instantly. “I drank some water while you were gone, so thankfully, I have to pee. Do you want to come or keep Milan company?”
My eyes bounce from her to Milan as I consider my options. I can’t hold her hand while she pees, and my urge to pace might cause my nerves to rub off on her. But I don’t want to miss anything either.
“Come on. She should be good until we come back.”
I almost do a cartwheel when Journee makes the decision for me as I follow her to the half bath on this floor.
With every step, I hear wedding bells because no matter what happens, I’m marrying this woman.
Even the thought of Journee possibly carrying my baby expedites the timeline of my proposal.
She and Sweet Face already live with me, so it’s the natural progression of our love affair.
Not to mention, changing Sweet Face’s last name because everybody in this house will be a Kensington.
“Can you grab me a plastic cup from out of the kitchen? I won’t be able to pee on four sticks, and it’ll simplify the process.” Journee’s words force me to return to the present as I nod, leave her at the bathroom entrance, and quickly head for the kitchen.
I grab a cup from the stack but knock the pile over, which delays my return to Journee.
I grumble and throw away the cups that hit the ground.
Then head back to the bathroom, hand Journee a cup, and smile as she closes the door.
My heart races a thousand beats per minute as I back up and lean against the wall.
My mind races as I contemplate how the bedrooms will need to be adjusted to fit a new baby if Journee is pregnant.