*ding, dong*
Stirring in my sleep,I lie still, wondering if the doorbell sound is real or if I’m manifesting sounds in my dream.
A single vibration from my phone on the nightstand has me fully opening my eyes while reaching to grab the device. Unlocking my device, I take note of the alert from my alarm camera on the front porch that instantly wrinkles my brows.
*Your package is being protected*
“What package?” Throwing my blankets off my body, I slide my feet into my house shoes and exit my bedroom.
I take the steps two at a time, and I reach the bottom level within minutes. I disarm my alarm at the panel beside the door before I unlock the locks and pull it open. A frown slides into place when my eyes connect with a car seat in front of my security door.
“What the fuck?” I grumble.
I turn the lock on the security door before I step onto the porch. I look from left to right and search for whoever is responsible for leaving this carrier. Unlike my thoughts, the street is quiet, with nothing appearing out of place. Squatting in front of the carrier, I pull the blanket back to see a baby girl slumbering peacefully.
“Now, who left you out here by yourself, cutie?” My question is rhetorical because this baby is sleeping and too young to respond.
In my perusal of this little girl, my eyes connect with a manila envelope that is haphazardly on the child’s right side.
“Hm. Let’s take this in the house, and maybe I’ll find out what’s going on.” Gently, I lift the carrier with one hand and return inside the house.
Securing the screen and front door, I move toward my kitchen and place the carrier on the island. While holding my breath, I stealthily remove the envelope from the car seat and remove the contents from inside. A birth certificate and a folded piece of paper are the only contents, causing my brows to furrow as wrinkles form on my forehead. Ignoring the birth certificate, I unfold the piece of paper, and my stomach drops to my feet when the information registers in my brain.
Dear Zakai,
Surprise, surprise, you’re the pappy, my nigga. I would have told you sooner, but I’m still mad about you ending it with me. Having drunk sex with you all those months ago wasn’t worth the positive pregnancy test two months later. I hate you for allowing your nut to plant itself in my womb. Being comfortable with you sexually and enabling you to slide into me raw despite our breakup was stupid on my part. Ugh. Then I went through a horrible nine months only to birth someone who not only resembles my nemesis but reminds me of what I no longer want… you. I have spent the past month trying to love this child despite her paternal lineage, but the truth is, every time I look at her, I become angry. So, this is not only a fuck you to you but to her. Enjoy single parenthood, motherfucker.
Smiling on the inside while laughing on the outside,
Danica
“I know this woman didn’t—wow, this shit is crazy.” Reading over the letter for a second time, my chest tightens and releases before my eyes shift to the small sleeping person in the carrier. “There’s no way I’m a father. No fucking way I helped make a baby without knowing.”
“Ugh!This is my third freaking outfit. Why am I overthinking this?” Biting my bottom lip, I pull the shirt over my head and toss it on the floor with the growing pile of discarded garments.
My bedroom is normally my comfort place and the spot in my apartment where I can completely relax and reset after a trying day. With the presence of clothes in disarray on the bed and floor, I feel anything but cool, calm, and collected. The lavender spray I often use to keep me mellow has lost its savor as my eyes strain from the mountains of fabric in various places.
“I’m not sure what the big deal is, bestie. This isn’t your first rodeo or linkup with this man. You are doing too much right now.” Jandra’s voice echoes around the room, reminding me of her being on my phone.
Jandra Lundy and I have been friends since second grade, and our relationship is one I will always cherish. Unlike me, Jandra is happily married to her childhood sweetheart and doesn’t have to worry about what to wear on date night. Sighing, I walk over and plop on my bed without grabbing my phone since it’s on speaker, and I don’t need to hold it to continue our conversation. The butterflies in my stomach make it difficult for me to remember that this is supposed to be like any other date I’ve had in the past.
“I want a love that will transcend the lack of affection no man has given me before. I want the fairy tale of securing something genuine and eternal. But I’ve never done anything like this before, and part of me is anxious for some reason,” I mumble, closing my eyes.
Twisting my fingers, I stare at my bare feet noting the chipping on my toes, which reminds me that I need a pedicure soon.
“First off, love sometimes costs you everything. How much money do you have in the love bank, because you will need disposable income for the ride you’re trying to sign up for? Hell, sometimes I wonder if I truly love the one I’m with.”
“Girl, you better stop. You know you love Landon’s dirty drawers.” I giggle, cutting her off.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, stay focused because this is about you, not me. Secondly, you’re tripping, Caziya. You let that man sniff your period panties a month in, so this little date ain’t nothing to fret about. Besides, my bestie ain’t no punk bitch, so you better suck those feelings up.”
A giggle escapes my lips, causing a slight reprieve to enter my body as I inhale and exhale slowly, attempting to release myself from the confines of whatever is trying to overtake my senses. At thirty, I’m searching for a love that sappy movies inspire, because there are times when the circumstances of my life makeme yearn for agape love. Growing up, I have often wondered if disappointment would always be the blueprint of my life. Born to a woman who felt the need to drop me on her aunt’s doorstep for her to raise, I can’t help but search for?—
“What are you thinking about that you’ve gone quiet on me?”
Wiping the lone tear creeping from my left eyelid, I shift my shoulders, trying to erase the thoughts now invading my mind. Now isn’t the time to think about Rosetta Winston and her lack of maternal instincts.
“Caziya.” Jandra’s voice is softer than minutes ago, and I sigh before speaking the thought that’s been fighting for clearance since I woke up this morning.
