Adora
Ido not miss that stupid ass boot. It was too big and too awkward to walk on. It felt like it did more damage than good and I’m just glad to be able to wear matching shoes. Although I have been boot-free for two weeks now, the doctor still says no heels, but I’m not really a heel girlie anyway. It’s the end of July, hot as hell, and I prefer slides, especially after having my feet closed all day at work.
Xai’s getting the girls from school and they are going on a date. He’s so sweet and attentive with them and I appreciate that so much. I grew up without knowing my father so I know firsthand how that can affect a little girl, which is why I tried to hold on to Rush. I was wrong for that and it’s evident every timeI see Xai with my girls. In the short time he’s been in our lives, he’s been more of a father to them than Rush ever was or could be.
Since I wasn’t invited to their date this evening, I’m taking the time to meet Kandi at Sushi House for an early dinner and bestie time. I’m also about to break the news to her about the twins. Right now, only me, Xai, and the girls know and we swore them to secrecy. Because I’m only eleven weeks along, I’m not showing at all, so it’s easy to keep the news to ourselves. I haven’t even told Dr. Denim yet.
“Up or down?” I ask my reflection as I finger comb my new Ghana braids. Jae came over Sunday and did me and the girls’ hair. They got a quick style, feed-in cornrows, that will last until summer break. Jae will redo theirs before our annual vacation next month. “Down,” I decide, then take off my work studs and replace them with silver hoops.
Before leaving the house, I text Kandi.
Me: Leaving now.
She responds almost immediately.
Kandi: Me too.
After one last check in my mirror, I grab my tote and cell and leave the house. Since I beat Kandi here, I check in. It’s Friday, in the middle of their three to six p.m. happy hour. Half price sushi rolls and saki plus five dollars off signature drinks draws a crowd, so there’s normally a wait. There’s a seat at the bar but because I want to be comfortable and can’t drink, I opt to wait for a table.
Luckily, I only wait for ten minutes and I’m sitting at the small table by the window when Kandi makes it. She spots mewhen she enters and walks over. I stand when she approaches and we hug.
“Sorry. My little princess decided she wanted to blow it up right as I was walking out of the door. Chad had a fit so I had to turn around, change her, and clean her up. I’m trying to wean her from breast milk but her stomach isn’t liking the formula. It’s been a time. I know you don’t miss this shit,” she says ,then shakes her head.
The door is open!I wanted to ease her into my news but she opened the door so I decide to just walk through. There’s no need to delay.
“It’s coming back in about seven months, times two,” I blurt, then grab the small happy hour menu. As I pretend to read it, I glance at her perplexed face.
“Wait, now, what? What did you say?”
“You didn’t hear me?” I tease, then give all my faux attention to the menu. Her crazy ass reaches over and swats the menu, knocking it out of my hand.
“Bitch, seven months? Times two? I know you not pregnant,” she says and I simply nod. “With fucking twins?” Again, I nod but this time she actually screams in this crowded ass restaurant. “Awww! You’re pregnant!” she squeals as she jumps out of her seat, steps toward me, then hugs me tightly.
“Thanks for telling the whole restaurant,” I scoff playfully as she rocks me.
“My bad. My bad. My bad,” she says with a grin. She releases me then gets back in her seat. “I’m so happy for you, friend. Twins. You have the prettiest babies. I can’t wait.”
“Thanks, girl. I’m excited and nervous as hell.”
“Why are you nervous? You’ve done this…twice. And this time, you have a man who’s going to be right there.”
“I know; he’s so cute with it too, aggravating but cute. I’m not even far enough along to show and he acts like I’m having them next week. He doesn’t want me to do anything.”
“Then don’t do shit. It’s simple.”
“Girl, my job. I have to work,” I counter.
“Yo’ ass wants to work. You own your car, own your home, and your babyfather owns his townhome and runs two successful businesses. I think you can sit your cute ass down and relax for once.”
“This year has been a doozy and it’s only July,” I admit. “As long as God knows I am not one of his strongest soldiers so he can take me off the ‘she can handle everything’ list, I just might. ’Cause yo’ girl has been through it,” I tease but only marginally. There’s so much truth behind my words.
“You have but thank God you don’t look like it,” she says then laughs. “And thank God you have a real man who loves you and your babies. Isn’t he on a date with them right now?”
“He is. He even got them pink, long-stemmed roses for their outing. I know they were so surprised when he picked them up from school.”
“That’s a good man, Savannah,” she says with a smirk because she knows I hate that phrase. In the movie where the phrase originated, the man referenced was nowhere near good.
“Girl,” I hiss, then roll my eyes. “Where’s our server? I’m starving.” I ask.
