Page 41 of Waiting for Friday Night

“Is your sister right? Did you...donate your semen?” His mom said the word semen as if it was a bad word. He felt like it was a bad word; he never planned to have a discussion with his mom about his semen.

He took a sip of the whiskey. The smoky flavor and warmth of the liquor spread through his chest. “It’s a long story, but yes. I don’t want to get into all the reasons why.”

“You better get into the reasons,” his dad said. “Why would you give away a piece of yourself like that? It don’t make no sense. Didn’t I tell you not to be spreading your stuff around like that?”

“I wasn’t spreading anything. I needed the money, and I did what I had to do. It was one time. I never thought I’d even find out who got it, but fate had other things in store.”

“What did you need money for?” his mom asked.

Quinton cringed; he hadn’t meant to let that slip. Proof that the day had lowered his defenses. “That’s beside the point.”

“Was it to take care of us?” The concern in his mom’s voice was like a kick in the gut. This was exactly why he didn’t want to tell them.

“Look, I did what needed to be done at the time.”

“It was when we were losing the apartment,” his mom continued. “You suddenly had the money and claimed one of the donors to the school gave it to you. But I knew you wouldn’t take it because you didn’t want to ruin your chances to get drafted with a scandal. I knew we shouldn’t have laid that burden at your door.”

“Again, it doesn’t matter,” he said firmly. He wasn’t about to have this argument with his parents over something that happened over a decade ago. “It’s done, and now I have a kid to show for it.”

“What’s she like?” his mom asked, curiosity about a possible grandchild outweighing her earlier concern about his decision. “Does she really play football?”

“She does. Like I said, fate had to step in on this one.”

“What about the mother?” his dad asked. “Is she going to try and keep you away from our grandchild?”

“We’re figuring out how to work this out. And will you stop saying our grandchild?”

“Why?” his dad asked. “She is our grandchild, isn’t she?” He spoke as if he’d known Shania from the moment she was born. With a certainty that let Quinton know his parents weren’t going to easily stay out of this.

“Yes, technically, but Halle and I need to figure this out first. We’re still getting used to the idea.”

“But she said you can be a part of her life, right?” his mom asked hopefully.

“She did.”

“Then that means we can be a part of her life.” The excitement in his mom’s voice made him sit up.

“Mom, don’t get overly excited. I need you to please give me a chance to work this thing out before I get you all involved.”

“What’s there to work out?” his dad asked. “She’s your kid. You’re going to be a part of her life. We’re all family now.”

This was exactly what he’d been worried about. He did not want his parents to swoop in and take over before he had the chance to get used to the idea of being a father. Shania wasn’t a newborn; she was a teenager. He and Halle weren’t together. This situation was going to be challenging enough to maneuver without adding his eager parents.

“We’re not all family,” he said slowly but surely. “Let us figure this out first before you start planning family dinners, please.”

“Are you keeping us from our grandchild?” His mom.

Quinton looked to the ceiling and let out a silent scream, then he took a deep breath before answering. “No. I’m just asking for some time. We just found out a few weeks ago. Please, trust me. When the time is right, I’ll introduce you to her and her mom.”

His mom sighed and so did his dad. Thankfully, Dawn finally chimed in and helped him out. “We’ll give you some time. Won’t we?”

His parents grumbled but agreed. Quinton released a sigh of relief. That would give him some time to get things straight with Halle before they moved forward. He ended the call with his family with the promise that they wouldn’t just pop up and try to insert themselves in this situation right now. He got in the shower and washed off the sweat and irritation from the afternoon.

After the shower, he slipped on a pair of basketball shorts and went into the kitchen to grab some water. The doorbell rang just as he filled his glass. Frowning because he wasn’t expecting anyone, he went to the door and opened it. His breath caught at the sight of Halle standing on the other side of the threshold. She’d changed from the athletic clothing she’d worn earlier at the park into a pair of loose-fitting pants and a T-shirt. The material looked soft and comfortable and brushed across her curves with the skill of an expert artist, drawing his eye to her full breasts, wide hips and supple behind.

Her eyes lowered to his bare chest and then down to his shorts. They widened before jumping back to his face. He swallowed as heat filled his face. He wasn’t wearing underwear beneath the shorts, and the thin material of his worn, “around the house” shorts had to make that obvious. He warred with embarrassment and the satisfaction with seeing the flash of awareness in her eyes.

“Is this a bad time?”

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