As time went by, it was becoming evident that my family needed more than money and material things to make them happy. Dysfunction didn’t disappear just because the bills were consistently paid or just because food was always on the table. Dysfunction didn’t take a back seat just because there was no threat of eviction or cramped housing space. All dysfunction did was evolve. It used to be arguing over bill money. Now my parents argued if one glanced at the other too long. It went from being too cramped in a three-bedroom house, to havinganywhere to sleep just to avoid being around the other person. It was sad.
It was sad that Whimsy didn’t have the grandparents a child could run to whenever she wanted to be spoiled. They barely knew Whimsy, and it was because they were too dysfunctional to see that their lives had changed for the better.
A whistle blew, bringing me back to the game. Glancing at the scoreboard, I grinned to hide that my mind had been elsewhere. We won the game. For now, that was all that mattered.
After the game, I wasted no time chatting with reporters or shooting the breeze in the locker room. I was ready to get back to the hotel, turn on another team’s game, and settle in with Sienna and Whimsy.
This evening, I planned to put on a good Christmas movie, one that Whimsy liked, while we ate dinner. The setup was perfect. This wasn’t a part of my original playbook, but hopefully, Sienna noticed my thoughtfulness.
When I made it to the hotel, Sienna and Whimsy had already beat me there. Sienna had showered and changed out of the red and black jogger suit she wore to the game. With a big smile, she welcomed me into the suite. Chef Flap had it smelling like my granny’s house inside the suite. My homeboy was mean in the kitchen and cooked for me often throughout the season. I paid him handsomely for flying in and handling business on such short notice.
I went right to Whimsy and ducked to kiss my baby’s forehead. She sat at the kitchen table covered in dressing and yams. She clutched a piece of turkey in her fist, holding on to it for dear life.
“The shower is waiting for you,” Sienna stated.
She walked away and missed the way my head tilted out of curiosity. One, because she started the shower for me. Two, she paid attention to the fact that, although I showered at the arena, I showered again when I got to my home or hotel suite.
“Your clothes are on the bed as well,” she added. I watched the way her hips swayed behind the olive-green lounge pants she wore. I didn’t miss the Christmas themed socks on her feet or the sound of Christmas music playing lowly. She hummed to the chorus, sounding like a melodic bird or some shit. Instead of heading toward the bedroom, my goofy ass followed behind her. She smelled soft and delectable.
She glanced at me over her shoulder and softly smiled. “Go shower so you can eat.”
Her command was low but hit me in my chest. “Yes ma’am.”
As I showered, images of me pinning Sienna against the glass wall caused my dick to harden. Sienna had no fucking clue how perfect this shower was because of her. The water temperature was perfect, the beat of the water against my skin was therapeutic, and the soap glided across my skin the same way I wanted my tongue to glide against her clit. I was doing everything I could to take this shit slowly. I had to follow the playbook if I wanted to execute the win.
Dried, moisturized, and dressed, I joined Sienna in the kitchen. She stood at the island fixing our plates. For her to want me to keep shit professional, her ass was toeing a thin line. Hell, maybe she had a playbook. This surely felt like she was finessing the fuck out of me. Then again, if she was, I was as going to lay the fuck down and take it. That was how wide open Sienna had me.
“You okay, Synder?” she asked around a sly smile.
“Yeah,” I replied.
“Oh. I sat your plate on the table. Have a seat and eat.”
Without question, I did what she told me to. Minutes later, she placed a glass of water on the table for me. She followed it up with a glass of lemonade. After she sat at the table with her own plate and drinks, she said a prayer, then beamed proudly.
“Thank you for this amazing dinner. Don’t think I don’t see what you’re trying to do,” she stated.
Chuckling, I asked, “What’s that?”
She grinned and started eating. Play two wasn’t so bad. I had to come a little harder, though. Subtly, of course.
CHAPTER 12
SIENNA
ThemorningafterThanksgiving,I woke up to a barrage of messages from Courtland. She’d flooded my DMs with demands and accusations. Blocking her, I wasn’t about to give her any of my energy. I blocked her and some other people who were being vulgar in my inbox.
Today, I didn’t have time for any of them. It was off to the next city as Synder had a game tomorrow night. The more time I spent with him and Whimsy, the more it was clear that he really did need me. Whimsy was a good child, but Synder’s schedule was hectic, and he barely had time to process anything before he was off to the next game.
Yesterday put so much into perspective. All I knew was family. Sure, I’d missed spending Thanksgiving with my family, but we were so close that I spent plenty of time on video call with them. However, Synder didn’t mention the first thing about his family. I found that sad, considering he took care of them.
I wanted to deep dive into his family’s dynamics. Then again, I was just the nanny. What they had going on wasn’t my business. However, I couldn’t help but to be concerned. Synder seemed like such a nice guy, and Whimsy was perfect.
His family was still on my mind the night of the game. Thanksgiving passed and now Christmas was on the horizon. No one should spend Christmas alone if they had family. As much as I wanted to not care, I did.
After the game, I couldn’t resist taking Whimsy out into Detroit’s snow-covered grounds. For a little while, Synder’s family dynamics fled as he, Whimsy, and I played in the snow. There weren’t any thoughts of those closest to him and whether their love for him was genuine. There weren’t any feelings of sadness about the way his family wasn’t as loving as mine.
Back in Atlanta at Synder’s house, I dusted his ornaments and holiday fixtures while Whimsy was down for a nap. I was back to being concerned and decided to express my feelings with the only person who understood what the hell I was feeling.
