Page 105 of Fever: Love In Scrubs
I still wasn’t over her calling me mama. It started about five months ago and every time she said it, my heart skipped a beat. She told me that I wasn’t her stepmother, but her mother, period. It made me feel good because she wasn’t my stepdaughter, she was the baby God and life had blessed me with outside of my womb.
It was official now, anyway. Amandela was serving time for property damage, arson, and driving under the influence. A few months ago, she sent a letter to my mother-in-law's house, telling Jaxson she wanted to terminate her rights to Jamari. I knew it hurt my baby to hear that. She cried a little and once her tears dried, she asked me to legally adopt her. I didn’t hesitate to get our lawyer on the paperwork the moment Amandela’s rights were terminated.
“Good morning, my love.” I leaned in and kissed her cheek. “How did you sleep?”
“Pretty good. Ready for this pool party, right, Three?”
He grinned. My baby boy loved his sister and she loved him. If I ever went into his room and couldn’t find him, I knew I’dfind her cuddled up with him on her chest, fast asleep. He was practically attached to her hip when she wasn’t busy.
“No pool until this room is clean,” I said.
“I know, I know. I’ll get right on it after my shower.”
“Thank you, ma’am. Come and eat.” I stood and reached for my baby, but she refused to give him to me.
“I’ll bring him down. We need our brother sister time.”
I smiled. “I love you both.”
“We love you too.”
I left her room and headed downstairs. The sounds of “Sweet Thing” by Mary J Blige played softly over the surround sound. Jaxson stood at the stove, cooking breakfast and singing along while doing a little two step.
I was so in love with my husband.
We’d gotten married in a small, beautiful ceremony a month after I gave birth to my son. My aunt walked me down the aisle to give me away just as she promised. It was such an emotional moment. She’d been responsible for ushering me into womanhood. She was with me as I became a mother. Then, she walked me into being a wife. It felt like a full circle moment.
I stood there for a minute, watching my man and stifling my laughter. He turned to remove some sausage patties from a frying pan and grinned when he saw me. Putting the pan down, he motioned me over to him.
I smiled as I made my way to him. Pulling me into his arms, he continued to sing to me, his hands roaming all over my body.
“Good morning, my love,” I said.
“Good morning, wifey.”
He pecked my lips several times before picking me up and placing me on the kitchen island. As he stood between my legs, he caressed my thighs and kissed my neck.
“All right now,” I warned him. “Don’t start some shit in here.”
“You act like I haven’t had you in this kitchen before, woman.”
“Your kids are awake, sir.”
He kissed his teeth. “Lil’ cock blockers.”
I playfully slapped his chest. “Leave my babies alone.”
He laughed. “How did you sleep?”
“After you put me to bed, I slept great.”
“You know the kids are going with mom and dad after the pool party, right? We still have a few places in this house we have to break in.”
“That’s how we got in this position now,” I said, rubbing my stomach. “You wanting to break in a few more places.”
I was currently eight weeks pregnant with kid number three. This wasn’t as much of a surprise because we’d been going at it like rabbits since 3J started sleeping through the night in his own room.
“I love seeing you pregnant,” he admitted. “Just around here glowing and shit. I really get to take care of your busy body ass then.”
