Page 25 of Tyriq & Teaira
As if he’s not here, I perform my regular routine, and when I walk out of the bathroom wrapped in my towel, he’s sitting on my sectional with a glass of brown liquor. It has to be Black Ops Bourdon because that’s the only brown I have. His eyes follow me as I grab my dirty scrubs and take them into the laundry room. I close the door when I walk in, just to break his stare.
Inside, I take my time, regaining my composure and trying to relax my tense body and mind. He’s still on the sectional but his glass is empty by the time I emerge dressed in my DAZ tee and matching shorts. I walk past him into the kitchen and place my untouched lunch kit in the fridge and take a ginger ale out. I grab a bag of popcorn next and a few paper towels. I walk right past him again and start up the stairs. Seconds later, he’s right behind me.
My eyes roll at the fact that he's really not leaving as I walk into my bedroom. When I ease onto my bed, he remains by the door. I try to ignore him but his height alone demandsattention. His eyes and handsome ass face are just added bonuses.
At least my baby will be beautiful. He or she has some pretty parents.
“Why are you smiling?” he says.
“I’m not,” I utter because I hadn’t realized that my thought had me smiling. While shaking my head, I get comfortable on top of my covers, turn on the TV, then open my popcorn. I’m not really hungry, even though I’ve barely eaten today. I packed lasagna for lunch but didn’t eat it. I snacked on two cuties and a string cheese all day. The little appetite I thought I had vanished after I got the news. Honestly, it’s still gone but I need to try to put something on my stomach, especially now that there’s a little one inside.
I’m really pregnant.
“You didn’t have to tell me it’s mine. I had no doubts,” he says before stepping away from the door, and that makes me smile knowingly. With his admission, he earns more words from me and a little niceness.
“You have stuff here if you want to shower,” I say and his eyes stretch in surprise. “From when you came over after one of your games. You showered and changed. When you left that night, you forgot your stuff so I washed them.”
“So you kept my shit,” he says, too damn amused.
“I just forgot to give it to you,” I snap playfully. “It’s in my armoire, left side, up top.” He walks over and finds his boxers, basketball shorts, and T-shirt I had folded neatly in my armoire. “Towels are in the closet,” I tell him as he walks inside my bathroom.
I pick through a handful of popcorn from my bag, then surprisingly, eat them all and another handful before findingsomething to watch on TV. I’m too tense and tired forScandal. I like to watch it when I’m fully alert and vested so I don’t miss a beat. Instead I turn on one of my favorite oldies,A Different World. I’m so glad they brought it to Netflix. I started with season one, and low key, I hate season one. To me, the show didn’t get good until season two.
As I watch, I aimlessly run my hand across the top of my table for my cell. When I don’t feel it, I glance over and see it’s not there.
“Shit,” I utter when I remember I left it downstairs. Him being here distracted me from my norm. Mad at myself because I was just starting to get comfortable on my bed, I grunt as I ease off. After sliding my feet into my slippers, I trot downstairs and grab my cell from my tote by the door. I have a missed call and several texts from my apparently extra ass, worried, and angry best friend. As I ascend my stairs, I read her back to back texts.
2:15 Bestie Bitch:Wyd
3:30 Bestie Bitch:You up?
4:08Bestie Bitch:I called. Are you okay?
7:12Bestie Bitch:Bitch! I swear; I’m worried. I’m sending Kassir over there.
8:38Bestie Bitch:He went and your Jeep is gone. You better be somewhere safe and just forgot your damn phone. ?
10:00Bestie Bitch:Just saw Tyriq. Work!!?? Whew! I can’t believe you went in on your day off.
When I’m back in bed, I send her a simple text:Home and in bed. Call u tomorrow. Sorry I made your crazy ass spazz out.
My news truly isn’t something to be communicated via text messages or even over the phone. Our friendship and bondrequires more than that; we need a conversation over drinks—well, a drink for her and juice for me.Pregnancy is so ghetto.
My hand mindlessly moves to my little belly, thanks to food not my baby, and I find myself rubbing it then shaking my head.Not rubbing my belly already!I guess it’s true what so many mothers in the ER say, the moment they found out they were pregnant, a bond was felt instantly.I have a baby in here.
My whole “my body, my choice” proclamation was nothing but bullshit. My choice is and always has been to have my child. No joke, the timing and circumstances are all off, way the fuck off, but being a mother has always been in my plans. Did I see that while still working almost fifty hours a week in the nonstop ER? No! Did I envision being unmarried and someone’s baby momma? Hell-the-fuck no!I hate that damn term!Did I think the father would be a fine ass, tall ass, baller who is five, almost six, years younger than me? Hell nah! But obviously, this is my life now. I’m here, we’re here, and tomorrow, we have to talk about it.
My bathroom door opens and like some scene out of a basketball love movie, steam wafts out before my baller does.No wonder I’m pregnant. Look at him!Shirtless with only his black boxers on, Tyriq strolls over to the bed and grabs my bag of popcorn.
“You didn’t eat any of these,” he scoffs.
“I’m not hungry.”
“Your lunch bag felt heavy too. Did you eat anything?” he asks, his concern so heavy it’s filling the whole room.
Answering him technically and not exactly truthfully, I simply say, “Yes. I grabbed something from the cafeteria. I’m just tired and tense.”
He rolls the top of the popcorn bag down then places it on my table. He moves my ginger ale next. Then he leans in and says, “Lay down. I can relax you.”
