Page 24 of Aug
“One kid was hard enough alone. She didn’t bother making the same mistake twice.”
“Mistake?”
“Getting pregnant. She promised marriage– a happy marriage before she had another child. Though she married, it wasn’t happily. It ended within four years. I’m all she has.”
“And vice versa.”
He shook his head again.
“I have you now,” he reminded me.
His words were heart-shaped daggers straight through my chest.
“Aug–”
“I do,” he interrupted. “And, vice versa.”
Silence plagued me. I wanted something to say. I needed something to say. But, he’d stolen my thoughts. He’d left me mindless. I had nothing but mush up top.
“This shit feels heavy,” he sniggered, inhaling.
“Do you want children?”
He nodded.
“I want to be a father, Ti, much more than I want children. But, I’m not ready yet. I’m not the man who would make the father I often think of being. Haven’t reached that version of myself yet.”
“August, your mind– it– it’s fascinating. The things that come from your mouth– I don’t know– I just…”
“Your mother taught you how to cook?”
Turning my head from side to side, I admitted, “My father.”
August found my response comical.
“My point. I ain’t that nigga yet because my best meal ain’t even a meal, technically.”
“What is it?”
“Boiled chicken,” he chuckled.
“That’ll do. Quite honestly, if you took all the same steps and put it in the oven instead, you’d elevate that meal a few notches, and you can put baked chicken on your list. Minus the cups of water, of course.”
“Really?”
“Um hmm.”
“I’ma try that shit.”
“I can’t wait to taste it.”
“You would?” He asked.
“I would, August.”
Quietly, he stared in my direction. My limbs had found minds of their own. My legs were draped over his. One of his hands lowered, taking my foot into his palm. Slowly, he ran his hand up and down my skin, bringing warmth to the slight chill.
“I’m a little saddened you have to leave.”
