by Love Belvin
I didn’t know if that was wise to share, but figured fuck it: it was the truth.
Sarah giggled delightfully. “Well, that is my child.” She went over to a drawer in her china cabinet and pulled out yarn and needles then sat next to me.
“She’s a really good cook,” she murmured.
She’s perfect in everything she does.
When I looked up, I saw her knitting a yellow and white blanket. I froze.
“Is that for…” I couldn’t finish it.
“Mmm-hmm.”
My eyes collapsed. I got that twisting feeling in my damn stomach again.
“Stenton, ain’t no need in crying over spilled milk. What’s done is done. I keep telling Zoey the same thing.” Sarah never looked up from her needling when she spoke.
“Does she… Has she said…” I stumbled on my words.
“She isn’t proud. She isn’t exactly happy. But she’s healthy and so is that baby. That’s all we can focus on now.” Sarah continued rolling her fingers, moving faster than my eyes could follow.
After a moment I went back to eating.
“So, how have you been? And I ain’t talking that ball game nonsense either.” She swayed her head towards the wall that separated us from the living room where Michael was.
I took a moment to consider her question. “You want the truth?”
“It always helps.” Her eyes skirted up to meet mine.
I dropped my fork and pushed my plate away. I felt high. Like fucking intoxicatingly uninhibited. The only person I could share freely with was no longer around. I’d fucked that up. But her mother, her shaper, her molder and nurturer was here and I felt like making Sarah her daughter’s proxy. Would she take to me opening up, I didn’t know. But I was so desperate, I gave it a try.
“Last January, Zoey’s phone was shut off. Do you remember?”
Sarah nodded, her hands still nimble in knitting.
“I didn’t know. All I knew was I hadn’t heard from her in weeks and…” My eyes closed, remembering the undercurrent of emotions I felt at not hearing from her after having an amazing time with her that first time in Alpine. “I didn’t like it. I wanted to make sure she was okay. I thought maybe I’d said or done something to hurt or offend her. Or worse: that she’d heard something bogus in the damn media. I couldn’t talk to anyone about these…fears, because I honestly didn’t understand them myself.” I shook my head at the memory.
“Anyway, one day I said fu—” I observed the amused smile on her face. “I mean, forget that; I’m going to reach out to her. It took a few days, but I tracked her down in the library, sneaking into a reserved room,” I snickered, thinking about how big her eyes got when she saw me step into the room. “She was listening to music on her iPod and I picked up an earplug to hear. A song by Ledisi was playing. Lost and Found. I hadn’t heard it before, but within just seconds, I could feel the spirit of the song. Feel Zoey’s pain. After leaving her that night, I downloaded the track and absorbed it. It’s really melancholy…really desperate. The subtitle of the track is Find Me—it’s that dark.” I rubbed my face.
“It’s the pressure of it all: the game, the business of it, the wolves in sheep’s clothing… It gets so heavy.” I brought my eyes back up to Sarah.
Her eyebrows were hiked and chin angled. “And?”
I exhaled. She saw through the bullshit. “And I lost my best friend. I fucking literally live the sentiment of that track.”
There was a long pause. A cloud over the room being removed. It’s hard to speak of those things you can only feel. I didn’t feel the need to apologize for the vulgar word I used to express myself, neither would I make a habit of using it. I just needed to be understood.
Sarah swiftly tossed her yarn and needles on the table and grabbed her chest with one hand. She rested her forehead on the other hand that was balled into fist. I watched her pant for a minute. I wasn’t alarmed. I didn’t know what was coming, but for some reason, I wasn’t afraid of it.
“I knew it.” She shook her head on her fist. “My Zoey’s nobody’s fool. No one’s perfect, but she’s been my saving grace as a parent. I knew she didn’t fall into this thing without her head.”
I chewed on the inside of my lips as I sat back in the chair, feeling a thousand pounds lighter.
Sarah’s head rose, her eyes reached to mine desperately. “You loved her—”
“I love her,” I muttered, correcting her.
Her mouth dropped. I saw the confusion in her eyes. Could hear the questions she couldn’t muster to ask.
“She’s so young. She needs to live. To discover. Zoey wants to explore the world, not be locked in a lifetime commitment. She wants to journey alone.” I shook my head again. “She can’t do that being under me. She doesn’t deserve the hot seat that comes with this lifestyle. She deserves the time she needs to make that decision on her own. I don’t want this baby slipup to make that decision for her. I can keep her life private—or far more private than I could if she was by my side.
“Zoey wants the same destination any other girl her age desires. She just wants a different journey to get there. She’s an idealist. If you don’t manage her, she’ll slip away.”
I shook my head again. “I’ve created so much of a mess, I don’t know how to fix it.” I rubbed the pang that ran through my chest. “I don’t know what to do with the…pain,” I admitted.
Sarah’s eyes suddenly narrowed. “Do you want to be with Zoey, Stenton?”
“I want her to choose me. But I never felt I was her choice.”
“Seems to me you two need time. Zoey needs to find herself first.”
“I just hope I haven’t destroyed anything in her,” I barely got out. My throat closed up on me.
Sarah’s hand cuffed my wrist in a comforting manner. “Now, I know that girl. I made her. She’s tough. Shoot, all this time I thought she’d gotten herself into a loveless affair with you, messed around and got an unwanted child out of it. We can’t underestimate that girl. She’s strong. Smart. She may not be as invincible and sound as she presents, but Zoey will figure it out in the end. Son, give this thing to God and I guarantee things will work out for the best…for both of you.”
Call me fucking crazy, but in that brief moment, I whole-heartedly believed Sarah. I even felt a momentary reprieve of the pain I’d been carrying for months. I wanted that peace to last forever.
One thing was for sure; I’d made the right decision in making that call earlier.
~~~~~~~~~~
April 2008
Perfection. There were ten fingers and ten toes—all of which were identical to mine, almond shaped eyes with a brow line just like mine, a cute button nose that we’d already known he snatched from me and tiny plump lips that I couldn’t deny came from his mother. His sound and contented sleep deprived me of the opportunity of our first formal playtime, but I was determined to study every inch of Jordan Michael Rogers, who was a touch of perfection. At just three hours old, he made the biggest impact on my life, second only to his mother, who was across the room, asleep herself. She must’ve been exhausted. It was hell watching her push out this bundle of joy.
When you see your heavily anticipated child, you experience a mirage of lifelong events vacuumed all into just a few seconds. You see his first run, his first time holding a ball, when he leaves for his first date, his graduations, and him holding his first child, experiencing the myriad of emotions you’re experiencing with him now. And just to think, before meeting his mother almost two years ago I had no desire for the sheer joy I felt now, holding my son in my hands.
We’d just ended the third quarter against Toronto, and when I jogged off the court, Paul and Travis, my agent, walked over to me with the news that Zoey was in labor. I looked over at Coach DiLeo and immediately caught his affirmative nod. I left the arena, tossing my jersey and pulling on a long sleeved tee and a sweat suit as we paced to the exit. I was nervous as fuck. Paul gave me a blow by blow update from the mom
ent we left the court until we were disembarking the plane at Teterboro.
The ride to the hospital had my stomach in knots at the anticipation of it all. Then it seemed as soon as we entered the hospital, time sped up. A nurse was at the entrance directing my security and me to the maternity level and I had to scrub up because Zoey had to begin pushing.
Zoey.
Her eyes lit up with relief when she saw me. It made me wonder if she thought I wouldn’t be here for the baby. For her. I didn’t want to go there. Thoughts of the state of my relationship with Zoey fucking depressed me. I grabbed her hand, buried my head in the side of her face and first apologized for my stinking ass, then murmured in her ear words of admiration for what she was doing for me and the baby. I must have told her a million times how proud of her I was and reaffirmed my love for her in spite of our status. That shit was cathartic for me. It worked, too. The next thing I realized was Dr. Henson announcing the arrival of our baby boy. That was a moment I’ll never forget.
The fruit of my loins was wrapped in delicate cloth and was snug in my hands. The shit was crazy. I was looking at my legacy, my future. I finally had a familial connection to be excited about. Life to give guidance to. A human being to provide for. Someone that would give me a permanent connection to the woman across the room. I had a family.
“Mr. Rogers,” I heard from above me. I glanced up and found one of the nurses—the one I thought resembled Miss Piggy, but was warm and accommodating just as the rest of them—glancing down on me with a pleasing smile. “I have to take Jordan for his vitals, shots and another weighin. I’ll be right back with him. Perhaps you can order breakfast while he’s away.”
Shit. Food. I’d forgotten to eat…to wash my ass! My poor baby, having to smell work on his old man.
I nodded and handed my little man over with great disinclination. He was my partner, even in that moment.
When the door closed behind them, I decided to take a shower. Zoey was in a private room, something I made sure to arrange. I wanted privacy for her and Jordan, didn’t want to expose them to the media any sooner than I had to. My team worked seamlessly getting me in the place.
When I arrived, Zoey’s parents and sister were there. I felt relieved to know she wasn’t alone. Occasionally, I’d forget Zoey came from a tight family. She wasn’t like me, a loner, which is probably what really drew me to her.
When I was done showering, I threw on fresh sweats and shower shoes Paul had arranged to have delivered here while we were en route from Canada. As I sauntered out of the bathroom, I texted Paul, asking him to come and pick up my dirty laundry when he woke up. I knew he had to be somewhere sleeping.
“They miss you already?”
I glanced up and found Zoey smirking. She wore an expression of fatigue, but even exhaustion looked so damn cute on her. My heart swelled in pride at the sight of her. She was a trooper during delivery. I don’t know why I expected less; this was Zoey after all.
I tossed a smile at her. “Telling Paul to come get my dirty clothes and bring clean ones for the duration of my stay.”
Zoey’s brows wrinkled and chin dipped. “You’re staying? Here?”
I fought not to take that as a hint of being unwelcomed as I lowered myself in the cushioned chair next to her bed, crossed my stretched legs and plopped them onto her mattress.
“Yup. You couldn’t pay me to leave my…son.”
I’d almost slipped and used the word family. Because that’s what it felt like. Zoey and I hadn’t fucked in two months, since her birthday. We were in touch minimally by her design, but I still felt this incredible tie to her. I’d hoped my willingness to meet her need for space would pay off.
“Can you believe we have this tiny creature?” I glanced over and saw raw exhilaration etched into her face. Her smile was broad and suddenly she didn’t appear as drained as she was just moments ago. She looked like my youthful Niña. “Isn’t he perfect? He looks like you, you know? I see my mom’s lips, but everything else is StentRo.”
I curbed the initial glare I gave her at the mention of my on-the-court moniker. Zoey was in her element, being the fiery woman that captivated me almost two years ago. She recognized her mother’s lips on Jordan, I saw hers. I guessed it was the same difference.
“He definitely has identifiable features,” I agreed.
Zoey tossed her head back on the pillows with a big ass smile plastered on her face.
My nose wrinkled. “You’re sure a different being from just minutes ago when I walked out of the bathroom.”
Zoey giggled. “That’s because I’m a medicated momma. See here?” She lifted a device that was attached to tubes. “This is a medication dial. When I feel pain, I turn it up. I turned it up while you were in the shower. My lower back was killing me, competing with my no-no-special place.” She giggled.
Why the hell did she have to mention that place? Thanks to her, I’d be preoccupied with thoughts of it.
“Your giddiness is reminding me of,” I twisted my neck over to the other side of the room to be sure her parents hadn’t arrived unannounced. “…your experience in the Caymans.”
She smacked her teeth. “Oh, when I was hiiiiiiigh?” We both busted in laughter. I grabbed my stomach at that one.
“Yeah. Then.”
“Naw! That was a different type of intoxication. The best of my life. I doubt if anything could top th—”
Zoey halted her words. She must have known she was crossing into gray territory. I, on the other hand, was pleased that she at least acknowledged our better days. It made me give myself permission to escape our reality, the mess I’d made.
I sat up in my chair, facing her square on. My eyes were leveled with hers while my back stretched broad, ready to catch whatever she threw my way, metaphorically speaking. I remembered Sarah’s words of advice concerning Zoey. She said Zo needed time to figure out what she wanted and who she was.
“So much has changed since then, Zo. I’m sure the pregnancy, and now birth have given you a new perspective on life. What do you see for us…you, me and little Jordan down the road?”
Silently, I begged for her to speak of a family unit, something that would include us…together, officially.
Zoey shrugged. “I don’t know…I just see me doing whatever I need to, to make a wonderful life for the little guy. I’ll do whatever I can to provide, as much as possible, the stability my parents have given me all these years.” Then her eyes returned to me. “And I’m sure he’ll learn early on that he has one cool dad.”
My chin dropped, body sagged as a crisp shiver swarmed over my back, and my chest squeezed at the picture she just drew. I was secondary to her plans with our son. She still didn’t want us to resemble a traditional family. Zoey wanted no semblance of tradition. We were still at a blatant impasse. My heart was still on hold.
Just then, there was a knock at the door and right after, Jordan’s bassinet was being wheeled back in. That stole both our attention and blocked the somber pit I was about to fall into.
“Let’s try to feed again. Come, Jordan,” Zoey called out excitedly with outstretched arms. “Come feed from your momma finally.”
The nurse placed Jordan in Zoey’s arms advising of a football hold. I watched absorbedly as Zoey released her left breast from her gown and placed her dark and enlarged nipple over Jordan’s sealed mouth and soothingly cooed words of encouragement to eat. I had no idea what the hell this was about, but I soon saw my son open his little jaw and eventually start to draw from Zoey’s breast.
Just then, Zoey’s cell chirped next to me.
“Could you check that for me, Stent?” she called back to me, not removing her eyes from our son or sounding pressed about answering the text that came through.
Slowly, I reached for it on the table next to the bed. Even my eyes were glued to the event in Zoey’s arms. It was weird as shit to watch another mouth on my Niña’s boob, even though it was my son’s. But he was so damn precious as he wrapped his m
iniature lips around her and pulled. Zoey giggled happily.
“You’re doing it, Elizabeth!” the nurse cheered them on and threw me a happy glance as well.
So fucking proud of her was what went through my mind as I turned my attention back down to her phone. I slid the bar to the text app.
Bernard: Is it super weird that I want to meet your son? I would really like to stop by the hospital to check on you two. If it’s cool send me the info. My prayers are with you two.
I scrolled up to previous messages. None screamed Zoey had fucked him, but I still felt my anger building. I became aware of my harsh breathing through my flared nostrils, and a wave of heat flushed through my tensed body. Why would this little fucker still be pursuing a woman who’d just had a baby? My woman! I knew I didn’t like the prick, but this was the moment I began to hate his soft ass.
I had to calm down. I felt I had every reason to and none to be insecure about. I had Zoey where I wanted her. She’d just given birth to my child. That made me the permanent fixture I’d desperately wanted to be. I couldn’t get hung up on the fact that the Bernard kid was after her ass. I’d laid claim to it when we conceived the life that was now lying in her arms, feeding from her. I had my child.
I officially have my Zoey.
“Who was it?” Zoey paid me a fleeting glance and returned it back to the man of the hour, not wanting to lose a moment of this milestone.
I quickly tapped away, deleting that message from Bernard the Queen of the Golden Arches.
“Your mom, checking in,” I tossed back at her.
“Oh, she’s going to be upset that she missed this.” Zoey couldn’t hide her excitement.
And I had to get back in the ring to regain mine.
Fuck a Bernard! Fuck kinda name is that anyway?
I placed the phone back on the side table and stood over the bed to watch the festivities. Out of nowhere, I felt a caressing swipe of my cheek. I looked down to see Zoey beaming up at me. Never before had I experienced joy and disappoint in the same event.
I’d have to get used to this. My Niña wasn’t ready.
