She giggled. “Can I tell you something?”
“Yeah.”
“I have you in my phone asSolid Brix. You know why? Because even before we started doing this process together, I always knew you were solid. I always knew that you were the kind of man who stood on business and that your word was your bond. If I could’ve chosen anybody to father a child with me, you definitely would’ve made the top five.”
I had to laugh at that. “Damn. Okay. I don’t know whether to be flattered or offended. Top five. Depending on perspective, that’s kinda high.”
We both laughed.
“Who’s all on this list?”
“Jalen Hurts, but he’s married now. So, there’s that. Steph Curry. Also married.”
“Should I read something into the fact that all of us are light-skinned? Are light-skinned brothers making a comeback? You know we’re not always in fashion.”
We laughed again.
“No, don’t read anything into it, because rounding out the list are Kofi Siriboe and Damson Idris.”
“Okay. Two athletes, two actors. Regular dudes just don’t do it for you, huh?”
We laughed again, then fell into an easy silence.
“Yo.” My voice was quiet, volume low. “I feel, I don’t know, lucky… blessed to be doing this with you. I love the relationship that your parents have. I love the relationship that you all have with your parents. When CJ and I were rooming together in college, they used to come down—they were just cool. I like that you were raised in a healthy home. You know what that looks like and you’ll give that to the baby.”
She swept Mocha into her arms, then stood up and handed me her phone. “Take a picture, Brix. I wanna chronicle this journey on my socials.”
She sat on the edge of the pool, her feet dangling in the water, holding Mocha against her and wearing a huge smile. Her sunglasses and the peace sign she was holding up with her free hand had her looking like the epitome of the girl-next-door.
“Swimming pool Barbie,” she sang as I snapped the picture.
She was a black Barbie, but prettier, even. I handed her back her phone. “I want to get a picture of you, too. Not your face, just some non-identifying marker.” She paused. “Not that I expect you to be a secret or anything. I just want to be, I don’t know, cryptic.”
“What do you want a picture of?”
She eyed me critically as she moved around the lounge chair. “The hands. Holding a basketball.”
“I have identifiable hand tats, love.”
“I’ll blur them out. Do you have a basketball here?” She paused. “I know you do because Christian has basketballs everywhere.”
“Yeah, let’s grab it.”
We walked across the backyard and took the three stairs that led to the deck where the rest of our people were enjoying the warm evening breeze. On the deck, there were a few benches that were hollow inside and used for storage. I opened one and grabbed a custom made white basketball that was gifted to me by a brand I once did a collaboration with. Our families watched us, but they didn’t comment or interrupt. I knew our situation wasn’t typical. I knew it wasn’t normal. But it was what it was. We would all be learning as we went. There wasn’t any other way to do it.
“Hold it like you just caught a pass, Brix.”
I followed her instruction, gripping the ball with both hands. She snapped several pictures. “Got it.”
“And you’re using these pictures for what?”
“Not you being more suspicious of me posting your picture than you were of giving me your sperm.”
I chuckled and mushed her head.
“What’re y’all doing?” Zyah joined us, leaning casually against the deck railing.
“I wanna post this experience on my socials, so I’m getting some pictures. Like I told Brix, I’m not trying to hide him. I just want the first few pictures to be more cryptic. Kinda like,I’ve got a secret. They’re mainly for me. For me to look back on this time once the baby gets here. I have to blur out the tattoos on Brix’s hands. You know how social media private eyes are. I don’t want anybody doing a deep dive on his tats until I’m ready.”
