Love Delayed

by Love Belvin

  ~~~~~~~~~~

  “You sneaky bitch!”

  I leaped from my bed and twisted my torso too fast, causing a shooting pain from my groin to my abdomen. I grabbed my stomach, tensing from the ache. Panting out of control, I finally looked up to find a shaking Angela, seething like an inferno. I was surprised to see her. Last I’d heard from Karen, Angela had agreed to marry Timmy and was planning their wedding. It disappointed me, but who was I to have an opinion considering my recent quagmire.

  She was now here, in my bedroom with guns ablaze. My breathing was out of control and my heart was beating wildly. I knew this day would come, just not when I’d finally been able to get sleep in short increments.

  “Don’t sit there looking dumb and innocent. You are the biggest fraud there is! Now I see what that lecture about forgiveness was about. You only wanted to get Alton Alston off the hook to make yourself look good to Stenton Rogers. You’re a manipulative little whore!”

  Ruth jumped into my doorway with eyes as big as saucers. Not now Ruthie! She stood there frozen.

  My weary eyes trailed back to Angela.

  “Oh, and all you have is a fucking rolling of the eyes?” Angela inched toward me.

  I was able to find my bearings. “Angela, I know I should have told you…and before now. It’s just that things have been crazy—”

  “Crazy? Yeah, I bet! You fucking ballers who wouldn’t normally look twice at your dry ass if it wasn’t for me laying the foundation by acting like the thirsty groupie! Did you fuck Alton Alston, too?”

  Is she crazy?

  One thing that did strike me along with her asinine accusation was how she referred to them by their first and last names, making it clear she really didn’t know either one of them.

  I didn’t realize I was still rubbing my belly until I heard Ruth diffidently ask, “Zo, you okay? You don’t look good.”

  Without looking at her, I raised my hand, needing her quiet and not getting my parents involved. Angela was sharp with the tongue, but she’d never fight me. That thought was just ridiculous.

  “I swear to god, Zo, I feel like beating the living shit out of your sneaky ass!” She drew a fist at me.

  “Uh-oh!” I heard Ruth shrill before taking off.

  “Ang, don’t be ridiculous. I didn’t have sex with Alton. This thing with Stenton wasn’t planned and I didn’t manipulate any—”

  “Yes the hell you did! And you betrayed me by going after someone you knew I wanted. I know you go all “good girl”, but Zo, in the streets you’d get your ass kicked for touching a guy your girl was after.”

  If her street code jargon didn’t give away Angela was beyond pissed, the vein pulsing just underneath her left eye did. This wasn’t going to be easy and the pain was still smarting too much for me to defend myself if she called herself hitting me. Angela was no more a fighter than me, but she did crazy things in the name of Stenton Rogers…or anything she was passionate about.

  Steady rubbing the pain away, I tried to calm my breathing enough to speak clearly. “Ang, I’m sorry about all of this, but I think you’re laying claims to a man you don’t know—”

  “I don’t know Stenton Rogers? Bitch, you don’t know Stent—”

  “What is going on up here?” My mother managed before she even entered my room. “Angela, get your finger out of her face! What is your problem?”

  “She is, Aunt Sar! She betrayed me. She’s sneaky and grimy!” Angela spewed as my mother shuffled her out of my personal space and made herself a wedge between the two of us. When her eyes landed on my grasped belly she jumped into action.

  “Angela, go home and take care of Brooklyn. I understand you and Zoey need to talk, but not like this and not now.” My mother took her by the shoulders and urged her to the door.

  “I hate you, Zo! Don’t you ever call me, speak to me or look my way! I hate you!” Angela screamed all the way out of my small bedroom.

  “Go, now!” My mother yelled, something she isn’t known to do.

  I heard Ang’s threats and rant until she pulled out of the driveway.

  Still stunned by the little melee in her home, my mother finally spoke.

  “You okay?”

  I shook my head. “I was until this,” I murmured, as my eyes were trained to the floor.

  “Should I take you to the E.R.?”

  “No, Momma.”

  “Zo,” she sighed. “You’ve been doing so much better with your disposition these past few days. I don’t want you back in that slump. You have everything to look forward to, only now you have a bit more.”

  As much as I wanted to take to her every word, I couldn’t. I was still blue. I knew I had to face Angela, but I’d been taking the cowardly route by putting it off. I only needed to get out of the black hole to do it. My mom was right: I had been improving. The nap Angela just awakened me from was evidence of that. I’d been restive for weeks now.

  “Is there anything I can do to make it better? Can I rub your belly? You want me to pray for you? I can go get my oil.”

  “No thanks, Momma. I should be fine. I’m just going to lay down and ride out the pain.” That didn’t apply to that pain in my heart.

  She came over to my bed and kissed me. “Call me if you need me. I’ll be back to check in on you. I’ll call your dad and have him pick up your favorite seafood bisque.” I watched her walk out and close the door behind her.

  That made me smile…somewhere within. I’d developed a better appreciation for food being pregnant. Eating was something that brought me happiness—temporary bliss, but bliss nonetheless. I’d gained a few pounds and welcomed that, too.

  I spent most of my days on my parents’ couch or in my bedroom, painting my numbness away. It was either that or church. I felt lonely even there. Being there was especially hard, considering Angela wasn’t speaking to me. And eventually the whispers subsided, but the judgment didn’t. Our pastor even noted one Sunday morning how attendance had increased in the past few months. I knew it was due to spectators, curious about the rumors of who my “alleged” baby’s father was. Although our church was modest in size, it wasn’t like I or my parents made a public announcement that not only was I pregnant outside of being wed, but the father so happened to be three-time MVP, Stenton Rogers. I didn’t know how long we’d be able to keep it concealed, but we agreed that we would.

  Nonetheless, after that experience with Stenton when we learned we were having a boy, I didn’t hide my face or my growing belly anymore. I was reassured that this child was conceived out of love. It didn’t matter that his father’s love didn’t last as long as his mother’s. My child was and would be loved.

  ~~~~~~~~~~

  February 2008

  Time passed and when my birthday arrived, my parents forced me out to dinner. It actually turned out to be a surprise birthday dinner at a buffet restaurant out in Somerset. I nearly cried when the girls awaiting my arrival screamed “surprise” as I approached the rear dining area. There were six jumping girls in total. These were my friends from high school and some from church, including Karen. It was great being reminded that I had friends. It brought a smokescreen of normal. Stenton, my best friend, and Angela may never return, but at least some sense of normalcy had, in terms of my friends.

  We talked, joked and laughed at the table. My parents sat with us throughout the meal, smiling and participating whenever necessary. I noticed no one brought up Stenton. I didn’t know how to feel about that. On the one hand, I didn’t want the mention of what was painful in my life, but on the other, I didn’t want to erase the memory of the love of my life. I was still dealing with a broken heart. Midway through laughing at one of Karen’s new-mommy jokes, I decided to bury any thoughts of Stenton for the rest of the night. I needed the break in the agony I felt from my failure.

  After spending almost three hours at the restaurant, causing a commotion, we decided to call it quits. I didn’t want the temporary relief of elation to end, but I also knew my parents w
ere kind enough to drive me out and I didn’t want to belabor their patience. I kissed the girls goodnight and thanked them for the hundredth time, then gathered my small collection of gift bags they also surprised me with and made my way out to my parents’ car.

  On the drive back home, my mom called from the passenger seat, “You must be tired, baby.”

  “No,” I sighed. “Not really.”

  I was suddenly feeling bored. And lonely. Being with the girls for a few short hours reminded me of what it was like to get out without a heavy laden heart. For a bunch of twenty-one and twenty-two year olds the night was still young. Had my parents not been there, we could have carried on well into the night. I started to wonder what they were getting into now. I knew the girls weren’t en route to their beds as I was. Then my mind idly wandered over to thoughts of Stenton. I wondered what he was doing at the moment. I wasn’t hopeful enough to allow myself to believe he was thinking of me. I thought of that man every day for long spurts of the day. It was hard not to when I had a piece of him growing inside me, reminding me of his mark on my body. I’m sure he didn’t think of me. He had no reminders.

  “Well,” my mother hummed. “Get all the rest you can now. You’re gonna miss these days when you have all the freedom in the world to relax.”

  “Mmmmhmmm,” I acknowledged her, noncommittally as I scrolled my timeline on Facebook.

  Minutes later, we were turning onto my street and my Dad muffled, “Who is that in front of the house?”

  I didn’t look up from my phone with that question. I’d assumed it was my parents, just chatting between themselves.

  “Is that—?” my mom asked abruptly.

  “Yep,” my father murmured moments later as we neared our home.

  It wasn’t until we pulled into the driveway that I did peek up. I saw the car first. It was a bright yellow Ferrari. Then I saw the tall, lean figure standing just above it. As I caught on to his lanky frame, his eyes rose from his phone and locked with mine while the car was still in motion. I swear my heart leaped as if it were in fear. I guess I wasn’t used to those jitter-causing sort of feelings for a man. I didn’t know how respond to his magnificent, all-consuming countenance. His stark presence alone spoke volumes of who the man was behind the athlete.

  It took a while for me to gain control of my shaky limbs and open the door. My parents were out of the car before I could even pull the handle. As I steadied myself on my feet, I saw Stenton approach and greet my father respectfully with a manly shake. My father was all pinched brows and pouted lips, appearing short and stubby next to Stent. My mother clutched her hands at her pelvis, wearing a wide smile while she waited her turn to be greeted. I noticed his embrace with her was long and was met with him closing his eyes.

  In a perfect world…

  Then his dark orbs traveled over to me just before he let my mother go. They were penetrating, yet impassive. My heart couldn’t have been racing in my chest because I could no longer feel it. In fact, I couldn’t even feel the air sloughing through my lungs. Oddly, I did feel the flutter in my belly and intuitively grabbed it. Stenton slowly rounded my mother and gaited over to me. My legs continued to tremble as the distance between us shortened. Then he was standing right in front of me, towering my protruding frame.

  “You think I can get a few hours of your time?” poured from his silky baritone.

  My mouth collapsed, but for a while nothing could come out. Eventually, able to move, I peered around Stenton and squeaked, “Ummm… Momma, I’m gonna chat out here with Stenton for a minute. I’ll be in in shortly.”

  Stenton’s eyes never left me when he corrected me. “Actually, we’re going for a ride.”

  “Oh, that’s nice, Stenton!” my mother gushed.

  My father chimed in, “You know today’s a special day.”

  “Yes, sir, I do. In fact,” Stenton clarified with his marble eyes still locked to mine. I couldn’t believe he remembered my birthday. “I’m hoping to spend the last few hours of it with her,” he managed to make it sound far less sensuous than his eyes relayed…and I wanted to believe.

  “If you must,” my father drug out, consented as he walked off, leaving us in the driveway.

  “Just call us if you’re going to be late coming in,” my mother threw over her shoulder, following behind her husband.

  Once the door slammed shut, I stood frozen, captivated under his gaze. He wore a brown goose, dark jeans and Timberland construction boots. We stood there, gaping at each other. I was still jarred by his presence. I didn’t know how to behave around Stenton. I was never really accustomed to being with him. He was still all new to me; I hadn’t known him long. His arm reached out and his big hand cupped my round abdomen. My belly fluttered and I didn’t know if it was simply my body reacting to his touch.

  “Do you mind, Niña?” he murmured.

  I hadn’t heard that name in months. Hadn’t felt the warmth of the sentiment behind it in just as long. Why was he doing this to me?

  I swallowed. “N-no.” I cleared my throat, trying to calm my shaky chords. “Not at all.”

  After swiping the globe of my tummy, Stenton reached for my hand and walked me over to his car. With a few grunts, I managed the low drop getting into the passenger seat. Once he managed his long frame inside, he turned to me.

  “I guess this wasn’t the best car choice of the evening considering your condition.” He cracked a wary smirk.

  I attempted to let go of a grin. I wasn’t sure if my breathing had returned. Stenton pressed a button and the engine came alive, reverberating in my chest. We drove for nearly thirty minutes before we pulled up to a valet at a restaurant.

  “Glad that you arrived, Mr. Rogers. Our hostess is awaiting you,” the valet greeted when Stenton threw him the keys and rounded the car to take my hand.

  He laced our fingers and guided me into the restaurant where there was a brightly smiling hostess, welcoming us in by name and immediately leading us to our table. When were seated, the waiter immediately came over to hand Stenton a wine menu.

  Before looking into it, Stenton peered over at me and asked, “What are you drinking nowadays?” He gestured towards my protruding belly.

  “Water will be fine,” I informed the waiter.

  “I’ll have water as well,” Stenton informed the waiter, handing him the menu back.

  Once alone, Stenton sat up in his chair and inclined, placing his elbows on the table. “So, happy birthday, Elizabeth,” he murmured, his teeth appeared and his eyes squinted in a jovial slant.

  “Thanks.” I nodded coolly. “I thought you’d forgotten.” I don’t know why I said that. I didn’t want to come off as argumentative.

  He shook his head softly. “You’re having my baby; of course I know your date of birth. There’s nothing I’ve forgotten about you.”

  Stenton angled his neck as his eyes studied the crease of my lips. I knew this from the very first day we met. He’d always found fascination with them. He broke down and told me after we parted ways that first summer.

  I yanked my head away, suddenly bashful by his attention. Not only that, I was growing aroused under his gaze. I had to gain a hold of myself around him. I didn’t want him to be reminded that he chose not to be with me. Thankfully, we were interrupted by the waiters serving appetizers that I didn’t order.

  As I lifted my fork to decide what I would start with, Stenton informed, “I went with the chef’s menu. I hope you enjoy.”

  I wasn’t hungry at all. Not only had I just come from dinner with family and friends, but I had no appetite around this man. I didn’t like that I was sitting across from who was once my best friend, Stent. I was having dinner at, no doubt, a five star restaurant with the Stenton Rogers, three-time MVP Awardee and four-time NBA Championship holder. I mean, he was sitting right there, just a stone’s throw away. I could smell his alluring fragrance and admire his fresh haircut and curly top. His collage of tattoos were hidden underneath the fabric of his clothing, but
his full lips looked almost pink against his cinnamon complexion.

  “I got the last images of the ultrasound,” he shared with a mouthful of food. “I can’t believe how pronounced his features are now compared to the last one.” I could hear the glee in his voice even as he chewed.

  “Yeah,” I nodded. “Can’t miss that wide nose that we can agree he gets from his daddy.”

  Stenton let out a boisterous laugh. “Yeah, I thought the same thing when I saw it. So, he’ll have his dad’s schnoz. He could’ve gotten passed on a lot worse.” In a flash, I saw the melancholy in his eyes. Attempting to brush past it, he asked, “So, you’ll be seven months next week. Have you started thinking of any names yet?” His eyes rose to meet mine.

  He’d kept up with my pregnancy. Whoa!

  I sighed as I played with the food in my plate. “Oh, I don’t know. I’ve thought some about it. It’s just a huge call to make alone.” I chanced a glance at Stenton, who, when he realized I’d gotten quiet, peered up at me. “Do you have any ideas?” I threw back to him.

  He steeled in his seat for a few seconds then shrugged. “I don’t know. You may not want to leave such a weighty decision to me. All I know is ballin’. I’ll fuck around and name him Jordan,” he snorted.

  I chuckled into my plate. “As in the Michael Jordan?”

  “As in the legend Michael Jordan,” Stenton corrected.

  “Not that I’d have a problem with it, but his dad is already a legend in his own right,” I murmured while training my eyes to my plate.

  Through my peripheral, I saw Stenton’s head shoot up, but I didn’t react. I pretended to cut through my food, unperturbed. We ate in silence for a moment or two. Before long, Stenton cleared his plate, prompting the waiter to our table. I offered my plate as well, not being able to fit anything else in considering what was ahead.