“I must have. How about I make you breakfast while you shower?”
“You’re my guest, so?—”
“It’s fine, Kilo. I don’t mind.”
“You sure?”
“I’m positive.”
“Cool. You should be able to find everything you need pretty easily. The skillets are in the bottom cabinet, the seasonings are in here, and the utensils are in these drawers. Oh, and there’s a pregnancy test in that bag on the counter.”
“Okay. I think I can man—Wait. What did you say?”
He kissed me again before saying, “There’s a pregnancy test in that bag on the counter. I know you don’t think you’re pregnant, but can you take the test so we can rule it out?”
“I’m not pregnant, Kilo. My period came last month,” I said with so much confidence, I almost believed myself.
“I hear you, baby, but can you please take the test for me? It would make me feel a lot better to know for sure one way or the other.”
I had no idea why the thought of taking a pregnancy test made me so nervous, because after my vomiting episode last night, that was the plan. I wasn’t opposed to the idea of being pregnant or having another child, but taking a test made the possibility more real.
“Okay. I’ll take the test.”
“Thank you.”
He kissed my forehead and left me alone in the kitchen with the pregnancy test staring at me through the paper bag. For the next thirty minutes, I made a light breakfast of scrambled eggs, turkey sausages, grits, and toast. When he returned to the kitchen, he was dressed in a fresh pair of basketball shorts and a T-shirt.
“It smells good,” he said from behind me as he wrapped his arms around my waist and kissed my neck.
“Thank you, but it’s nothing special.”
“It’s special because you made it for me. I didn’t have much for you to work with, so I wasn’t expecting anything too fancy.”
“Good, because it’s as simple as simple can be. You have orange juice, milk, and water to choose from.”
“Orange juice.”
A few minutes later, we were seated at the small round table in the kitchen with our plates, bowl of grits, and drinks.
“Oh, I didn’t season your grits because I didn’t know if you liked sugar or salt.”
“It’s kinda crazy you think there’s an option. Which do you prefer?”
“It depends on the day. Today, I want sugar.”
“That’s the correct answer every day, baby. You actually eat salt on your grits sometimes?”
“On occasion, and I’m feeling judged.”
“You should because I’m judging you. Sugar only when we’re together.”
I laughed, although something told me he was serious.
“Do you have plans for today?” I asked.
“I was hoping I could spend the day with you.”
“I need to check on Nyeem, but what do you have in mind?”
