“So on some real talk, you can’t be on some lovey dovey shit with Ryann and not consider the real situation she’s in.”
“Shut up, Twin. Ain’t nobody on no lovey dovey shit.”
“Whatever. All I know is that you always said that you wanted a big family. You want a lot of children. As beautiful and enticing as she is, Ryann does have a medical diagnosis. She probably won’t be able to give you all of those kids that you want. Just think about the extreme measures that y’all went through to get this one pregnancy. You willing to give up your goal of having a big family for her?”
I didn’t respond to Beaux when he posed the question. But in my heart, I knew the answer. When it came to Ryann and my little princess in her stomach, all I needed was them. Fuck some imaginary kids that I decided I wanted when I was in high school. All I needed was Ryann and my princess.
Four weeks later,Brixton and I were a mere sixteen weeks out from my due date. That meant that in my quest to have his house decorated before she arrived, the nursery was my top priority. I’d finished it two weeks before, and as I leaned against the doorjamb peering into the room, I was proud of myself.
It was definitely over-the-top for the average newborn, but this child would be the daughter of a very successful professional basketball player. Overindulgence was the anticipated norm. Not only that, Brixton gave me a… healthy budget to get it done. Suffice it to say that I didn’t cut any corners.
The fluffy, ivory colored floor rug was a fur alternative that was thick and sumptuous. The white crib, changing table, and dressers were handcrafted, hand carved wood done by blackartisans who lived in the low country in South Carolina. They would become heirloom pieces that my daughter could have forever. The bedding and the curtains were made of a blend of organic cotton and silk, making them both durable and very luxurious to the touch. I’d had the walls painted a very pale pink, so pale that they almost looked white. I loved it, but my favorite part was that I had a medallion adhered to the ceiling, then added a bejeweled chandelier. It was a room fit for a princess.
“Which she isn’t gonna care about one iota,” I mumbled to myself. I knew my daughter wouldn’t understand anything about the care I had taken decorating her room, but I would know. And every time I walked into the room, my heart would smile.
Brixton asked me to tackle the great room after the nursery. His home was an open concept. The great room included the entryway, the living room, and the dining room. Once I finished the great room, it was on to his bedroom. By the time I finished his bedroom, I was pretty sure that the baby would be close to making her arrival.
I shot a text to the furniture manufacturer who was custom building both his sofa and his dining set. They were supposed to arrive the next day. I needed to make sure they were still on track. I took a sip of water, then checked my to-do list to see what still needed addressing before I could leave for the day.
A text came through.
Zyah:
Sissy, wyd?
Me:
Working.
Zyah:
Where? Because I’m at Christian’s and you are not here.
Me:
Brix’s house. I finished the nursery. You should come see it. It’s making me want to cry.
Zyah:
Awwww. I’ll come see it tomorrow. Tonight me and Amari are going to see the baby bears play baseball. His homeboy has a suite. It’s all you can eat.
I laughed at the looking eyes emoji she put in her text.
Me:
You tryna say I’m greedy?
Zyah:
Nah, boo. You just preggers. And you need to feed my niece. She be hungry in there.
I looked across the hall toward Brixton’s bedroom.
Me:
I don’t know. I have so much to do over here and so little time.
Zyah:
