Love Delayed (40 page)

Right away, I knew what that meant:
Stenton’s here!
My heart dropped into my belly and the wind had left my lungs. Twice I’d consulted Paul about this occasion without exactly telling him what it was. I asked him about cute christening gowns for boys. I didn’t want one made, which is what a woman in our church did for our babies for a small fee. I wanted to involve my church as little as possible. And since Paul, by default, had become my go-to person, I’d asked him. I also inquired about a shoe store for babies. The ones my mother recommended in New Brunswick were with outdated styles or closed down.

Did he tell Stenton?

Then I saw familiar faces mixed with those that I was less acquainted with. Alton’s short frame came through with Tynisha in six-inch heels, and their children in tow. I saw Barry and Rob in the mix of people piling in, looking for seats. Then I saw an older gentleman whom I recognized as Stenton’s uncle. There were at least thirty people who arrived before Stenton’s tall frame entered through the doors. He wore the most perceptible scowl as he perused the room and eventually came up to the altar.
I’m in trouble
. I knew he was angry. Most people would sensibly think he was looking for his child. But I knew Stenton well enough, knew those eyes. Knew the way they roamed. And when they landed on me I felt even worse. My feet felt heavy. I couldn’t move to run. 

Stenton, unlike his guests, gaited
gracefully, straight up the aisle toward us just as natural as a member. I was granted a delicious and generous waft of his cologne that warmed my core—there at the altar.
Jeez!
It was as if he knew his place because he stood right across from me and threw the coldest regard to Bernard. I swallowed hard.

He extended his hand to Bernard. “Stenton Rogers…Jordan’s father. Are you a blood relative?”

Bernard looked as if he’d seen Christ himself as he shakily took Stenton’s big hand. I saw the yanking Stenton did when they touched. Bernard wasn’t prepared for that. His mouth hung open for a while before he could speak. Stenton was being passive-aggressive. He knew who Bernard was. Bernard knew who he was—they’d met. I had no idea why they both played this role. Perhaps because Bernard would’ve never imagined Stenton setting foot in our church. I don’t know, but this was weird for everyone. No one spoke. You could hear a feather drop.

“
N
-no,” Bernard sputtered. “I’m a friend of Zo’s.”

“Well, I appreciate your support today, but I don’t think it’s necessary for you to stand with Jordan’s blood relatives, do you?”

Holy mother of Joseph!
Nooooooo! 

An aghast Bernard looked over
at me and when I couldn’t give him anything, his sights went to my parents, then to Pastor Whitaker. They couldn’t provide anything either. So, he paid Stenton one last parting gaze before backing away reticently.

I was mortified. The last thing I wanted was Bernard by my side, but Stenton had some gall running him off!

Stenton straightened his shoulders as he shifted into place. He greeted my parents, sister and pastor with a nod, but wouldn’t look at me. He did, however, gently take Jordan from my hold, raised him in the air reverently as he always did, and kissed him before placing him at the crux of his arms. Once that display of his doting was done, Pastor Whitaker continued the ceremony.

I felt like crap. I mean,
like the gum stuck at the bottom of a runner’s shoe. During the prayer portion, I got a chance to take in Stenton’s countenance starting from his leather dress shoes, heather gray suit and up to his stark white dress shirt where the top two buttons were left undone, exposing the ink on his neck. That ink did things to me, tantalizing things. I observed his knuckles that were tatted as well. Stenton looked urbanely gritty and it turned me on…there at the altar, in front of a couple hundred people. Then my eyes roamed up to his lips. Those lips that were full, wide and shaped like a heart. They were perfect and so teasing that my pupils dilated at the sight of them.

That’s when I noticed his eyes and realized he’d caught me staring. He didn’t smile. Didn’t smirk. His nostrils however did flare. It was as if he was telling me to back off, so I did.

We made it through the christening with Stenton participating seamlessly. When we all moved back to our pews, I sensed Stenton right behind me, holding a cranky Jordan. I was relieved because it was time for him to eat. Almost perceptively when we sat, Stenton went straight to the Gucci diaper bag one of his associates had sent as a gift—the bag I loathed and thought was unnecessary, but I felt just as foolish for wearing it as I would for wasting someone’s money—and retrieved Jordan’s bottle and burping cloth. He draped the cloth over his shoulder and gave the baby his bottle just in time to miss his cry.

As the service continued, I furtively watched Stenton with Jordan. My chest tightened with guilt at how Stenton knew to stop Jordan midway through his feeding to burp him, even though Jordan protested for a half a minute. Once he belched, Stenton returned Jordan to
the crook of his long arm and continued his feeding. When the bottle was empty, Stenton burped the baby again then put him to sleep. As I marveled at how attentive and involved he was a father, I could only ask myself one question:
How could I have excluded him from this christening?

He allowed Jordan a few minutes before
placing him in his car seat to continue to nap. I had to fight for that with Stenton over the past few weeks because he’d hold Jordan all day if he himself didn’t have to use the bathroom. Babies don’t need to be held while they sleep. They’ll get spoiled. It was bad enough he was a breastfed baby. Stenton’s obedience to that request further spurred my guilt. Even after putting Jordan down, Stenton refused to look at me.          

I don’t know how much of the sermon Stenton took in, but he kept his eyes
straight ahead. I, on the other hand, couldn’t focus on anything but this man whenever he was around, especially today during this awkward encounter. Stenton remained locked and still. At one point, I heard Tynisha scolding Alton for being on his phone in the house of worship.

When service was over and Pastor Whitaker directed everyone down into the dining room for food in celebration of the christening, I noticed most of Stenton’s crew headed in the opposite direction to the door.

Stenton finally turned to me and murmured, “I have to leave, but before I do, I need a word with you outside.”

I nodded my head
keenly. As we left the pew, my mom appeared with a warm smile. Stenton asked her to take Jordan while we spoke. She agreed and Stenton kissed a sleeping Jordan, who ironically smiled. That caused a pang to rip through my chest.

“He’s going to need a diaper change really soon. He didn’t have one all service
long,” Stenton informed my mother as a responsible parent should.

Yup! I fe
el like crap!

When
we continued outside, I didn’t know what to expect. Stenton and I had never really fought. We hadn’t really argued since our initial interface when we were forced to spend time together while Alton and Angela had their short-lived affair. Other than him breaking my heart, we had nothing to fight about.

On our way out, Pastor Whitaker stopped him.

“Mr. Rogers, I’m so glad you were able to make it. I apologize. Had I known you’d be a little late, I would’ve waited for you. I know today’s a busy day for you,” he offered genuinely.

Stenton sho
ok his hand and offered an amenable smile. “That’s all right, Pastor. I’m just a mere man; no one to wait on. That was made clear to me today.”

My mouth swung open as Stenton tossed me the nastiest glare. Pastor Whitaker must have caught on as he cleared his throat
and swiped his nose.

Stenton then amended, “Pastor, I appreciate your service
in christening my son and the hospitality shown to my friends and family today. Although I know you’re not in the business of making money, I insistent on speaking with Zoey’s parents to discuss an appropriate donation to your congregation. With the years I’ve missed in tithing, I know I can cough of something to show my appreciation.”

“Well, you don’t have to do that, Mr. Rogers, but we would appreciate what you do give, even if it’s
only your time for the Word.” Pastor Whitaker extended his hand again. “Thanks.”

“Yeah, well, I appreciate the support you’ve given
Zoey during a time when an unexpected decision had to be made. Thank you for not being as critical as the masses.” Stenton gestured to the church and I died a thousand deaths. Again! “That went a long way with me.”

I noticed Stenton never referred to Jordan as a mistake. No matter how unexpected, Jordan was a blessing from God.

“We love Zoey. And we now have Jordan to love as well.” Pastor Whitaker nodded. “God bless your family,” he spoke to both of us with a gleam in his eyes before walking off. 

Stenton directed me down the church’s steps, to the sidewalk
, and almost to the corner before he stopped. I noticed Rob and Barry trailing a few feet behind us, but distant enough to give privacy. With each step, my heart almost raced from my chest in anxiety.

He then abruptly turn
ed to me, placing his fists on his waist. “Let me tell you something. I don’t know what the fuck you thought you were doing today by not—”

I suck
ed in a breath as my eyes felt like they were being pulled from their sockets. “Stenton!”

“Don’t fucking
Stenton
me! Zo, you know you could have told me that my fucking son was going to be christened today—”

“Stenton!” my throat shrieked in alarm. “You are in the middle of the championship!”

“FINALS!” he shouted at my ignorance. “They’re finals! And yes they are important, but nothing is more important to me than my son and supporting you.” He pointed his long finger over my shoulder towards the church. “If this is the shit you’re into then I’m into it, too! It means something to me!”

“Well, Stent,
it’s not like we’re together.” That felt juvenile as soon as it left my lips. I tried amending it. “I know you have a life.”

“Yeah, and I’m putting myself and several of my teammates
, who came today to support me, at risk of being fined for showing up late to practice. A practice in Boston we may not even make! But I’m here for my son. It’s not just you, Sarah, Michael and Karen!” His face morphed into a grimace. “And then you had the nerve to have that…Bernard…” Stenton turned and punched the air as he mumbled a string of expletives. He returned to me. “I don’t know what type of feminist bullshit you’re on—”

I gasped. “Stenton, you know I’m no feminist!”

“Bullshit!” He drew closer to me. “You’re so fucking independent. Zoey, you may be a single woman who’s a mother, but you’re no fucking single mother. I’m his father. I’m an equal partner in this! When you make decisions like this, you need to involve me!” Stenton took a moment to breathe. And just when I thought he was done, he continued, “Let’s not act like I’m not footing the bill for the food they’re in there partaking of right now. Let’s not act like I’m just a sperm and financial donor. I am Jordan’s father!” he stabbed his chest with his index finger. “I am here. I am
your
partner…whether you like our setup or not, we’re going to make the best of it. You will not pull shit off on me like this. And if you continue to, Zoey, I swear to fucking god you will feel every bit of it! I will not tolerate it.
I’m. Here!
”

Shocked. Shamed. Embarrassed. Foolish. Those
were some of the words that could best characterize what I felt in that moment. I couldn’t speak. Had nothing to follow up with. The
Queen of Comebacks
had no comeback. He was right. Even today, during one of the lowest moments of my life, he’d shown up for me…uninvited and all.

I stood there
and widened my eyes in an attempt to keep my tears inside. My chest heaved and nose flared. Stenton pivoted again and that’s when I saw my mom just beyond him. Stenton must have caught her in his peripheral, too, because he turned completely toward her then let out another string of profanities under his breath. I knew he didn’t want her to have caught his tirade.

As my mother approached us I noticed the plate she held in her hands. She had her loving smile in place. A smile that could sooth anything
…up until that moment. My heart was still bleeding.

“Stenton, I came out here because I know you
love my cream cheese pound cake. I was told you don’t have time to eat with us, but I know you’ll always make room for this.” My mom handed him the plate.

Unable to look her in the face, Stenton t
ook the plate and murmured, “Thank you, Sarah. I appreciate this.” A few beats later, he croaked out a low, “I’m sorry.” And I was aware he was exclusively speaking to her.

“Son, there’s no need to apologize
.” Her voice was so calming as she gently took him at his broad shoulder. “I was not aware of this, but I will be talking to Zoey about co-parenting even though you two are in a precarious situation.” Her eyes turned restless, she was disappointed in me. “You’re a great dad. You go on. Get to work. We don’t want you in any trouble behind this. I’m glad that you showed up for your son today. Thank you for showing up for my child, too.”