“I mean it.” I moved her hair out of the way and attached my mouth to the skin on her neck while simultaneously palming each of her breasts. “You’re my heart, lil mama. I never plan onletting you go, but if I stuck a baby in you? Oh, you for sure never getting away from me.”
She giggled and relaxed into me even more. I let my hands travel from her breasts under the skirt she wore and into the waistband of her panties. When my fingers found her center, she was already wet. I pushed two fingers into her and they quickly disappeared. “Greedy ass. You always want some dick.”
Her legs spread wider. “You always wanna give it to me.”
“I love you. What’s your excuse?” The words came out unbidden and for a milli-second the both of us froze. “Bae?—”
“Are you just saying that because I might be pregnant?”
“Nah, I said it because it’s true.”
“Okay.” She sighed before busying herself with extracting my hands from her panties. “Okay. Because I don’t want anybody feeling like loving me is some kind of obligation or burden.”
I stood from the bed and pulled her into my arms. “Nothing about you has ever been a burden or an obligation to me, even when I had to get your mama to force you to let me into your space. I’m honored as fuck to even be floating around in your atmosphere, lil mama. The fact that you let me love you and love up on you is a privilege.”
She eyed me suspiciously for a few seconds before finally standing on tiptoe and placing a soft kiss on my lips. “Being the center of your attention for these past six months has been a gift.” She headed toward the bathroom.
“The way you take this dick is a gift,” I mumbled.
“I heard that!” She gasped loudly and I already knew what it was.
I strolled slowly into the bathroom. I expected to see three positive pregnancy tests. Which I saw. What I did not expect to see was my girl crumpled into a heap on the floor, quietly crying. I got down on the floor next to her. I pulled her into my arms and cradled her. It seemed like she was trying to talk, but the sobskept overtaking her. “I know.” I whispered my assurance into her hair. “I know.”
And I did know. That last time she had a positive pregnancy test, the outcome was all bad. She lost the baby. Her husband abandoned her. He announced a second pregnancy and requested a divorce.
“I want this baby,” I told her. “I want this baby. I want this baby.” I repeated the message until she stopped sobbing.
“I’m scared that I’m gonna end up feeling all alone.” She whispered the words.
“I want this baby. And I want this baby’s mother.”
She sniffled a little. “Would it be okay if we kept this news between us? I know how my mother is. With me here in Jackson Falls where she can get to me, she’s gonna smother me. I need some time to process.”
“Yeah. Take all the time you need.”
End of October
Baileyand I were both born in October. I was born on the 19thof the month while she was born on the 29th. I suggested that we collaborate and do something together for our birthdays. That something turned out to be a big family dinner with a Roaring 20s theme.
“You ready to reclaim your birthday?” I asked her as the two of us stood outside the lodge’s main ballroom. It had been transformed by the lodge’s resident event planner into several intimate spaces—an intimate 1920-esque dining vignette had been set up, as well as a space that was perfect for lounging by the room’s fireplace.
During one of our conversations, Bailey mentioned to me that birthdays weren’t a thing to her. She enjoyed them as a child since Alisha always went out of her way to make sure each of her girls enjoyed themselves. But when she was with her clown ass ex-husband, that went out the window. He pushed the idea that celebrating birthdays on a grand scale was immature and for children. He went out of his way every year to downplay her birthday until she finally gave up trying to celebrate it.
The new therapist she was seeing suggested that she reclaim the day by making it a big deal. The doctor wanted Bailey to create new memories and form new traditions. So here we were, outside the ballroom ready to start a new tradition.
“You look so handsome.” She adjusted the lapel on my pinstriped waistcoat.
I clutched the long strand of pearls that hung from her neck over her black flapper-style dress. I used them to pull her face to mine.
“Don’t break it.”
“Don’t deny me my kiss.”
She kissed my lips. When we separated, her hand subconsciously drifted to her midsection.
“You nervous about telling them?” We’d decided that this was the day we’d tell them about the baby.
“Yes,” she said on a sigh. “But at thirteen weeks with a clean bill of health, I’m hopeful that everything will be okay.”
