Love Delivered (22 page)

Please don’t mention a dating life.

“Yeah, but Jordan is my refuge. He’s becoming more independent by the day and I actually miss having a baby around. Feels just like yesterday that I…I mean, we had him.” Her eyes faltered. I’d guessed she felt she slighted me by initially leaving me out of the equation.

I chuckled at her hiccup. It reminded me of my old Zoey.

“You’re a great mom, Zo. I’m very appreciative of that,” I assured.

“And you’ve been a great dad. I don’t know how you balance it with your schedule, but you’re very present in his world. I don’t know what I was expecting, but…”

Of course she didn’t know what to expect. She hadn’t planned on becoming a parent when she did.

“We’re making it happen,” I moved us past that thought. “Speaking of which, I got the feedback from Dr. Mitchell about increasing his dairy intake. Sarah told me you’ve been able to get him to drink more with a sippy cup you got from that amusement park. She said you got two. You think I could have one? If it works for you, it should work for me, too.”

“
Su
-sure!” she sputtered. “I’ll have Srey drop it off to you. She’s coming by the bakery on Tuesday to pick up an order for a friend.”

I nodded, impassively. In my mind, I knew I’d get it sooner.

“So, you sent him down with his MaMa and PaPa for the week?” she asked.

I nodded. Since it was off-season, I had more time with Jordan. I set up my schedule to be local for the next two and a half weeks, but gave Zoey’s parents a week of my time because Sarah wanted to show him off to her family down there in South Carolina. It wasn’t my preference, but I’d do anything for Sarah and I knew that made her happy.

“When she came to me and asked, I told her it was your time. She then asked what I thought you’d say.” As she spoke a few guys were carrying a folded table into the room, making us back up from where we were standing. We ended up near a loveseat where I gestured for her to take a seat. She did without breaking the conversation. “I told her you’d likely say no because of how attached you are to him. I honestly thought you’d scheduled a getaway by then.” 

“I could understand her wanting to show him off. I do it every chance I get,” I muttered as I observed her smoky eye makeup. Sitting that close to her, I saw the soft details in her beautiful face.

“Yeah, I see him on Facebook. Those pictures are so adorable. Looks like you two have a blast,” she giggled.

I nodded and chuckled at a memory. “You see the one of him in my sneakers?

“Yeah, he looks so tiny in your shoes. I was like, ‘
Is that my baby?
’ Those things swallowed him up!” She laughed this time.

“Yup. He actually pulled them that close together to put them on himself.” I couldn’t fight my proud smile. “I had to snap a shot at that one.”

A waiter came by with more champagne. I took a flute and Zoey exchanged her empty wine glass for one. I couldn’t believe she was drinking socially. This fact reminded me of her maturation. What I’d missed. I questioned my old rationale of not taking on the relationship I wanted with her a few years ago. Isn’t this what I wanted for her, to develop and see the world at her own pace? I knew the feisty and adventurous Zoey wanted to take on the world on her own terms. She wouldn’t have wanted that while under the arms of Stenton Rogers. I wanted her to blossom and mold without my influence. And clearly she had.

But why did I feel so snubbed about that?

What I learned in that brief time with her was that our conversation flowed so easily and naturally. We talked about something we were equally passionate about and loved just about more than anything else in life: our son. Because we weren’t raising him under the same roof, it became interesting to conclude the same revelations of Jordan’s development. It was lighthearted and neutral. It didn’t involve the pain and confusion that always loomed over the two of us since we met. 

We talked for a while, about Jordan, of course, but also about her work and things she’d been working on to grow her business. I was so fucking proud of Zoey’s ingenuity. She was such a force when she wanted something, similar to when she wanted to have sex the first time.
With me
. I couldn’t fight my arousal from her. Although it couldn’t be seen easily through my jeans, I knew I had to control my subconscious thoughts as I examined her sexy eyes or the way her breasts bounced a little when she laughed.

And we did a lot of laughing and eye excursions. Several times I caught Zoey checking me out, taking in my shoulders, my arms and even zooming in on my lips. When we were there for a while with still no mention of a significant other, I knew I’d have her beneath me that night. Quite honestly, I couldn’t give a fuck if she had a man or not. There would always be a part of Zoey that was reserved for me, similar to that part of me that no woman but Zo controlled. The only difference was I’m sure she had a bigger part of me than I had of her. I’d fucked up so much.

While sitting and catching up, we were interrupted by people wanting to say hello, the first being the guy, Brog, who Hakim wanted me to holler at. Then there were several others wanting to introduce themselves or simply make their presence known. What took me by surprise were those who wanted to chat with Zoey. One woman came by asking about services at Zoey’s bakery. She told Zoey she was having an event and wanted to do something different and a mutual associate recommended the bakery.

“Oh, yeah!” Zoey exclaimed, physically animated. “We do many types of party hosting: birthday cakes and cupcake tutorials for kids, tea parties with tea biscuits—that I love—for a more mature crowd, champagne and fruit trays that include miniature cakes… All types of things. If I could recommend something that you might enjoy based off what you just shared, wine and cupcakes for you and your diva friends…” Zoey then went into the details of that type of event.

I noticed her taking sips of her champagne as she listened and engaged the woman. It turned me the fuck on as Zoey handed the woman a business card when it was clear to me she had her sold.

It also afforded me time to reflect on Zoey’s overall reception to me. Her regard had been friendly, void of our checkered past. She made me temporarily forget the pain that I’d caused or perhaps she’d grown past it and moved on. She was a clearly grown up Zoey, not that I’d ever known anything less about her. She even now had her own identity. No one had mentioned knowing her as Stenton Rogers’ baby’s mother. She was simply Zoey.

Zoey’s metropolitan feel made me discern the possibility of a new beginning, minus the hurt and confusion I’d caused. It made me feel like the reset button had been pressed. Zoey had come to that place I wanted for her when she’d gotten pregnant. A new beginning except for the fact that she had my child; I’d never change that in a million years. There was no one else I would have charged that responsibility to. She was the one and only. My connection with this incredible woman would always be, even beyond death. And that’s what I’d always wanted.

The time progressed and we continued with our conversation.  

“Zoey, I’m about to check out of here. I gotta get up for Altina’s recital first thing in the morning.” I looked up to find Tynisha fumbling with her purse.

Zoey’s wide eyes grazed mine. I could tell she wasn’t ready to go. Here was my opportunity.

“I’ll take her home,” I muttered.

“Huhn?” Tynisha grunted. Her dubious glare moved to Zoey.

Zoey’s eyes kept bouncing between the two of us as she contemplated. This could have gone either way. They landed on Tynisha.

“I’ll be okay,” Zoey assured.

Then it was Tynisha’s turn to bounce her eyes back and forth between Zoey and me.

“You sure, Zo? It won’t be any trouble for me to drop you off before I hit the highway.”

Zoey’s eyes turned to me, biting the inside of her lip.

“It’s no biggie, seeing that I need that sippy cup to help with Jordan’s milk intake,” I fought.
Fuck off, Ty!
“You can imagine what I’m still going through trying to get him to drink cow’s milk, especially after having that sweet breast milk for so long.”

Zoey’s head tossed back in laughter at that comment. It was an insider between the two of us about the one time we were together sexually after she’d had the baby. At four months old, Jordan was still nursing from Zoey’s breasts. While she was on top, riding me, her milk started to excrete and fall onto my chest and face where I got a chance to taste it. The substance was thin and sweet. She was totally aghast, terrified by her body’s reaction to arousal. I ran into the bathroom after her to convince her that it was all good.

It was a good laugh to share about an intimate memory between us.

I jumped to return. “Ty, I’m right here in the city. It won’t be necessary for you to have to stop on your way to Upper Saddle River. She’ll be fine.” I pushed a little harsher than necessary, perhaps.

Before Tynisha could give a rebuttal, Zoey said, “I’m good, Ty. I don’t want to hold you up. You guys go ahead.”

Hesitantly, Tynisha agreed and took off with Alton behind her. He waved his goodbye from a distance. He must have caught on to how close I was to swinging on his ass. He’d always said I was extra sensitive when it came to Zoey. I believed sometimes he took shit too far.

“So, Stenton,” Zoey turned to me, drawing closer, making her aroma that much more enjoyable. “How are you really? I know the season ended horribly for you and Philly has been so hard on you…”

She was referring to the shitty second half of last season after All-Star weekend. The one so bad we didn’t make it to the finals. The months that I fell into the bowels of depression and deservedly so. The period of time I’d secretly called on her mother to support me in a way I’d never known possible. It was when I’d awakened sick to my stomach every morning thinking of how Zoey fucked another man.

I didn’t want to uncover the period of that pain.

I placed my hand on her thigh. “I think it’s time to go get that sippy cup,” I’d hoped that didn’t sound as suggestive as it felt.

It was almost one in the morning when we entered her apartment, Zoey asked, “Can I get you a drink?” without pausing, reminding me I was on her turf without my son.

“Sure.”

“
Mauve
okay?” she asked. I wasn’t a brandy man. I’d guessed she kept it stocked from the time she had it for the first time while with me. I was shipped a case of it from Azmir Jacobs after my last MVP appointment to congratulate me. Everybody knew he was a brandy aficionado. The least expensive bottle ran at $300 a canister. It was rumored that he’d been in the market for pairing with a line. If he got one with
Mauve
, it’d be epic. “Hang on…I have tequila here, too…some
Maracame Gran Platino
. How about that?” she yelled from the kitchen while I was still in the foyer. She remembered.

“That’ll work.”

“Cool. Make yourself comfortable,” she called out.

I made my way into the living room and took a seat on the sofa. I could tell she’d made changes in the décor since JR’s birthday party. Or maybe since the furniture had been rearranged, the vibe of the room felt different. Either way, I was in a woman’s home, a woman who clearly had class and sophistication. And while I was sure I’d paid for that elegance, it didn’t seem like mine. It was all Zoey and Jordan’s. In my wild thoughts that I tried to keep contained, I wondered if this was how other men felt while here. If they felt the same sense of privilege and were as impressed as I was. Again, I had to keep my thoughts in check. I wanted to be with Zoey this night. The more time in her presence, the more I grew to need to be intimate with her. I believed it could somehow anchor me.

“Here you go, Mr. Rogers,” Zoey announced as she set my drink on the coffee table before me on a coaster. She set another glass across from that one for herself, but then muttered, “I need to get out of these shoes and romper. Give me a minute and I’ll be right back.”

I grabbed my drink and relaxed back into the plush sofa, admiring the setup of the room. I glanced at an adjacent corner where she had Jordan’s toys neatly stacked. I figured when he played in here she’d set them up for him. There were a few framed family photos on the shelves above the fireplace mantel and the tables throughout the room. I saw her parents with Jordan, Jordan alone, Angela and her family, Ruth, and even Zoey with classmates.

But as I perused, something else caught my eye. I stood to catch a closer glance. It was a picture collage in a fancy ass silver frame with photos of Zoey, Jordan…and me. They varied in company: some were of Zo and Jordan, some of JR alone, a few of JR and me, one or two of me with Sarah and/or Ruth and Michael, but what caught my attention and made my stomach flip were the three of us together, appearing as a handsome family.

I don’t know why, but I wondered if this was why Erika flipped out at Jordan’s party back in April the way that she did. That explosion led to a heated conversation between the two of us afterwards, ultimately leading to our breakup. She could not get out of pocket at my family’s event. She questioned why I was referring to Jordan, Zoey and her family as
my
family instead of my son, his mother and
her
family. The suggestion was foreign to me. I didn’t get it. Didn’t get the picture, until that moment, gazing at the framed collage; specifically, at the ones that held
my
family.