by Love Belvin
“Yeah… Just make sure you get right with culture and show the god more gratitude for holding ya angry righteous ass down while your son goes and gets understanding of his own seed.”
As I held my new life in one arm, I didn’t look back for a response.
“You were right, you know?”
My eyes opened regrettably as I lay in her lap, under citrusy scent and over the slight aroma of her musk. That and the low vibrations of the truck was pulling me into a sleep.
“Right about what?”
“About his anger. He seems very alpha; alphas like to dominate even with far-reaching arms. It’s hard to do that from prison walls. Although I may not agree with a lot of his ideology, it seems he’s firm on his vision for you. Right or wrong: you can’t knock a father with a vision.”
“See what Dr. inga has to say about that.”
She giggled over my head. “Lord, if I have a baby shower I may have to have two. Two christenings, too.”
“Two birthday parties…graduation parties and the whole shit.”
Her belly shook when she laughed. I was too tired to laugh but enjoyed hers.
“Gray.”
“Hmm?”
“I think I wanna know what the baby is.”
I could feel her thighs tense under my head.
“You do?” she sounded surprised.
“I do.” Then I thought. “Unless you had the ultrasound done already…”
“Not for the sex. I wanted to see if you wanted to…” She hesitated. “I’ve been waiting.”
Her belly grumbled. My face went hard and eyes went up to her.
“You ain’t eat today?”
“You know what I had for breakfast.” Parker was stalling the truth.
“What about at the cookout?”
Her attention went out the window or, at least, that’s what she wanted to me to think. “I didn’t have time.”
“You had time to kick ass in Connect Four, but you couldn’t eat?” I sat up to look her dead in the eye. Parker was full of shit. “You know you’s a bourgeois ass eater?”
“I’m not.”
“Yes the hell you are. You talking about that pastor spoke about bloodline curses.” I turned and looked out the other window. “That’s one I’mma have to break with my kid. You can’t be passing that shit on to it.”
Then I felt her hand on mine in the middle seat. Parker’s expression was a serious one. “I want to raise my child with Christian values. They were a secondary teaching in my childhood, with my grandparents becoming devote Christians in their latter years. Like your father, I have a vision for my children and their foundation. I choose Christ.” I was still stuck on the plural she used. Children? “If you want to know the principles of Christianity, my church is hosting a new believers class on October third. It’s after your Titans game but before the Vikings. We could go together.”
“You know my schedule?” I smirked.
Her eyes narrowed. “I value your time.”
I picked up my phone and went to the calendar app.
“I’ll be with Emily that day.”
I forgot all about the charity we were hosting together. It was supposed to be a couple’s thing where Emily’s organization was joining in with mine to do work in Connecticut.
“Okay.” Her smile was just as small as her voice.
I reached for her hand and squeezed.
Parker’s eyes returned to me. “If that’s what you wanna do with the baby, I’m good with it. I trust your judgment, but we’ll work out a date for me to check it the class.”
Parker didn’t smile this time. With a nod of her head, she turned back to the highway.
“Yo, Fats,” I called into the front seat. “Let’s hit up the first B-Way Burger we can when we cross over the state line.”
When I thought that would have earned me a real smile, I was wrong. Parker never acknowledged it at all.
~Twenty-two
“Oh! Hey, Rut,” inga stopped on her way out of the dining room as I let myself in through the front door of Parker’s place.
I saw she had packing foam, used tape, and brown packing paper balled into her hand as she headed into the kitchen.
“Hey, Dr. inga.”
“We bought accessories to decorate this fancy dining room set she bought.” She smiled because we’d both been on Parker about getting some furniture in here. I stopped offering when I realized it had offended her. She said it was enough I bought the place: she’d fill it when she was ready. But I had a feeling she meant when she was decided. On staying. “Come on back.” She continued through the foyer. “Parker’s in her lab.”
I took off my wet jacket. Just a few days into the fall, the temperature dropped like crazy and brought with it heavy rain today. As I passed through the house, it seemed like every time I came off the road I’d find myself here to relax. I didn’t stay every night I was in town, but Parker damn sure saw me more than Sharkie did.
Parker made the wash room that was just off the kitchen her lab. It had a sink installed already and plenty of electrical outlets, making it work for her. The closer I got to the room, the louder the television sounded.
I saw her from the doorway perched on a bar stool at her workstation, watching TV from her laptop. I couldn’t believe it was the Wil Cunningham show, the interview I just did with her two days ago. It went live today.
In the inset was a playback of the game that began my killer season. A season that had been bad for Jordan Johnson, which I hated.
Back in September, in a game against the Colts, the third down play called for Jordan to run a Slant Route. It was a route he had successfully run several times that day. But this time, Trent was under pressure and forced to throw off his back foot, causing the ball to sail. Jordan leaped high to snare it, but the Safety took out his legs and Jordan landed awkwardly on his shoulder. An MRI confirmed everyone’s worst fear a repeat rotator cuff tear, which meant he was done for the season.
That shit still fucked with me. Watching the highlights of my time out on the field reminded me of the crazy imbalance of our performances this season.
And now, I was watching Parker watch it.
“After struggling mightily since the loss of star wide receiver, Flash Johnson, early in the third quarter, the Kings are nearly in field goal range. The Kings have benefited from a couple key catches by rookie standout, Rut Amare. With twelve seconds left on the clock, the Kings have one—maybe two—shots to get into field goal range for a chance to win the game. With no timeouts left, all pass plays must be directed towards the sidelines. As Bailey breaks the huddle, Amare is lined up in the slot to his right. When the ball is snapped, Amare heads up field and breaks for the sideline. Miraculously, the defensive back whiffs in the tackle, and Amare turns it up-field and sprints forty yards for the touchdown to win the game!”
The playback with the commentary from the game ended, the inset disappeared, and I me at the desk with Wil took full screen.
“Big year for you, guy! Big year. It seems like just when the Kings started the season where they needed to prove to the world their winning wasn’t a fluke, its franchise wide receiver was injured!” Will cringed dramatically.
“But they had a ram in the bush, as the church folk would say.” She smiled big and bright when she pointed to me. “As we just saw in the replay, you’ve been out there killing it on the green! That play against the Colts kicked it off. And that’s all you needed to plant your feet firm in the league. We’re only in October. So tell us… What can we expect from you this season?”
“You can expect me to be Rut: give my all to the game,” I answered honestly. “It was a rough start to the season, I know you’ve heard the rumors with the shake up in the organization. The Kings brought on a new receiver coach to switch up strategy. That took some adjustments and I think we finally got it right. The team has gelled. Coach Brooks, her staff, Underwood—everybody’s been working hard. You know… This is a game of momentum. You n
eed those moments of opportunity to execute those great plays. The coaching staff’s been preparing us since day one for them.”
“And I’m sure bringing Brooks on was a huge part of that. How has she affected your performance?”
I laughed at first, thinking of the hell she put me through to prove her place in the organization. I thought of the full circle experience it had all been.
“She’s made me a better player. I’m laughing because of the beating we both took to get me here. Apparently, she won. You know, Cunningham…” I sat up scratching my nose, scramming for the words to articulate myself. “Getting into the league grew me up, if you will. I had my own set of views and goals to perform my best out there amongst your TBs and The Flash…even Grant. But what I learned from Coach Brooks was to develop and focus on my own skill set and let them feed off of it.”
“And it seems to have worked,” Cunningham added.
“That,” I laughed again. “and the fact I had a gang of women molding me since getting drafted. My therapist, Coach Brooks, and the mother of my child—”
“Excuse me?” Her mouth hung open.
“Yup. I’m expecting a little girl in February.” I couldn’t believe I finally put it out there.
“Are you serious?” Cunningham was acting like a girl, which was rare for her on camera.
I guessed being a parent herself had softened her.
“I better be, or her moms gots some explaining to do to my moms, who can’t stop buying stuff for her already.” Using my money, of course.
“Congratulations!” Cunningham cried, acting like a girl again.
But she could let it slip for this occasion. For my baby girl. It was actually comical.
I knocked on the doorframe. Parker’s head whipped around.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” she whispered then sniffled. Parker wiped her nose. “Thanks for that.” She pointed to the laptop.
“For what? Telling the world I’m having a baby?”
Parker took a deep breath, twisting her lips. That confused me. It was clear she was keeping something from me.
“I didn’t know you were coming by tonight.”
Me either, but she didn’t have to say it. Coming here to Parker’s place could feel the same as going to see her at Wright’s. Only difference was at Wright’s, I felt more welcome.
“Just left a meeting by the stadium and wanted to check in on you.”
“Hotep Financial is like…an hour away.” She smiled. “I don’t get the correlation.”
“Emily and her people met with me, Elle, and our peoples today.”
“About what?”
“About what she told me last night at the fundraiser we did.”
Her forehead stretched. “And that is?”
“She’s pregnant.”
Parker covered her mouth and ran to the sink. I took long lunges inside to get to her. My hands went to her hair I pulled up from her face. After three hurls, she splatted all around the tub.
“Parker!” inga shouted behind us. “Are you okay?”
“She needs some paper towels,” I responded.
She turned, taking off for the kitchen. I rubbed Parker’s back.
“You good?” I asked.
Breathing hard, she nodded. inga was back with wet paper towels and a dry face towel. I handed the wet ones to Parker and she wiped her mouth. When she was done, she used the hand towel to dry her wet eyes then mouth.
“What happened, Parker?” inga asked the question I had in mind.
Still out of breath, Parker shook her head. “I’m fine. I’m going to go upstairs and wash up.”
inga moved out of her way to let her daughter leave the room. I followed on her ass, all the way up to the master suite. Standing in the doorway, I watched Parker brush her teeth, wash her face, and pull her hair into a ponytail on top of her head. When she turned on the shower, I knew she was upset. With me.
“Did I say something wrong down there?”
Parker wouldn’t even look at me. She started to strip out of her clothes. That sight ripped my body from my mind. Parker was sexy as fuck pregnant. I never thought I’d find pregnancy attractive, but Parker was life with a belly. Maybe it was because I felt a connection to her body in a new way.
“You gone just ignore me?” I asked, mad as hell when she stepped inside the all glass shower.
She turned to me. “No. I’m just thinking.”
“About what?”
“About this adjustment. They’ve been coming so fast, I’m trying to keep up.”
“What adjustment?”
“I don’t know.” Tears fell from her eyes. “Are you going to buy her a house, too? I know she can afford her own.”
“Who?”
She rolled her eyes. “Emily.”
“Why the fuck would I buy her a house?”
“Because of her baby.”
“Her baby ain’t got shit to do with me. She better work her shit out with Rick.” When her mouth dropped, it hit me. “You thought I was sayin—”
Parker covered her face with her hands. Maybe she was embarrassed. She should have been embarrassed. That hurt.
“Yo, you think that little of me?”
“No.”
“I can’t tell. You accusing me of fuckin’ Emily Erceg!”
“She’s your girlfriend on camera.”
“And? She’s fuckin’ her mother’s ex!”
“Crazier things have happened.” She gestured to herself. “I’m pregnant by you.”
I scoffed. “Because we fuck.”
“You fuck, Rut!” she yelled. “You!”
“And what the hell do you do?”
“I connect with one person on a physical level that transcends his level of maturity, clearly!”
That shit hurt, too.
“How did this turn into an ‘attack Rut’ show?” I pointed behind me. “You were just thanking me downstairs, then you hurl on me, thinking I got Emily, of all people, pregnant, and now I’m immature?”
I don’t need this shit…
I walked out, closing the door behind me. How far I would go hadn’t settled on me yet when I peeped inga in the doorway of the master suite.
“I wasn’t eavesdropping but I was,” she whispered.
I looked at her like she was an idiot. Which one was it?
“She’s not saying what she really feels.”
“Which is?” I had the damn time.
“Which is she’s afraid you’re free to be with whomever you want.”
“She is, too.”
inga shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Go get in there with her, Rut.”
What?
“Why?”
“Because she’s my daughter and will do this baby thing without you if you don’t connect with her on a level she needs.”
“And what’s that?”
“Security. She needs to feel secure in a relationship with you. But she will settle for just sharing a child with you if you don’t secure her.”
“Why would she do that?”
“Because she thinks she’s her mother: an idiot. Parker’s way of putting on her big girl panties is accepting whatever you give her so long as you don’t mistreat her. Proof of that is her staying here. She has a twenty-thousand-dollar trust left from her grandfather. If Parker wanted to be gone, she’d be gone,” she was sure to keep her tone low. “She’s here because it connects her to you.”
When I didn’t move from being on information overload, inga crossed her arms.
“She’s not me. She’s better. She believes in the romanticized aspect of love. Buried beneath the little inga roll she’s trying to play, that girl believes in the notion of partnership, commitment, and devotion between lovers.” She pushed off the door frame to walk off. “Parker’s pregnant and emotional. She won’t tell you all of her needs, but you better figure them out and go handle it.”
Rolling her eyes, she took for the stairs.
I was two st
eps behind her, closing the doors to the suite then yanking off my clothes for the shower.
“These dope as hell.” Rut stopped in the window of a jewelry store and pointed to a delicate bracelet with a name plate.
I sauntered next to him for a better view. The sterling silver piece had the words “Daddy’s Love” engraved in beautiful calligraphy.
“That’s adorable,” I agreed.
“I wonder if they make that in platinum.”
“Why? A baby doesn’t need platinum.”
Rut looked at me sideways as he held shopping bags in his arms. “Okay. Gold.” He paused for a bit, I guessed, thinking I’d have a rebuttal. “I’mma go ask them what metals they make it in.”
He sauntered on into the jewelry store, and I pulled my phone from my purse. As expected, I had text messages from Jade.
Jade: I like the white, yellow, and turquoise ones.
I rolled my eyes as I typed back.
Me: Of course you do. I only need one. I went with the turquoise one. Rut liked it.
Waiting on her reply, I watched people stroll by in the mall. The Kings were playing in a few days in London. Rut invited me along to attend. He and a couple of guys from the team planned to shoot over to France after the game, during their Bye week. Jade would be there, too, and suggested I bring a bathing suit in case we were blessed with warm temperatures while there. The problem was, I didn’t have a bikini that fit. I hadn’t been swimming in years and had put on a few pounds since. I needed something suitable for my upgraded hips and new belly.
Rut offered to bring me to the mall on his day off today. What was supposed to be a quick run in while I insisted Fats wait in the truck for us, turned out to be a miniature shopping excursion. I bought cute skinny jeans, a thin leather jacket, heeled boots for sight-seeing, and even a scarf to match.
It was actually fun shopping with Rut. He was like the compulsive diva girlfriend, who encouraged imprudent spending. And of course, he offered to buy whenever I dithered on something. I didn’t let him spend a dime. I was doing well—not Rutledge Kadar Amare well, but better than I ever have. Not only was I full time in the front office now, but I got a contract with DiFillippo’s restaurants across the country for a six-month supply of liquid soaps and lotions for their bathrooms. As small of a commitment that may seem, it was a huge task for me. I’d still been working virtually alone. Mandee had come up a few times to help fill that order, and even Jade once. But I hadn’t found a commercial kitchen yet.
