Page 17 of Hot Life
“That’s my girl.” Cedric smiled. “How about I order us a pizza?”
“I’ll set up a pillow nest on the couch and we’ll watch reality TV all night. No sports recaps. Sound good?”
I wiggled my now free toes, glancing at their loving and eager-to-please eyes. “You’ll watch the reunion specials with me too?”
Des stood and gently helped me off the bed. “Hell yeah, I’m dying to know why the blonde woman is being sued by her hairdresser. And why’d her husband even get involved?”
Cedric answered, grabbing my long pregnancy pillow off our bed. “The husbands always get involved. It’s always a mistake every season but they never learn.”
I laughed as they guided me to the elevator. Something else they don’t warn you about life with two men? It’s really difficult to stay sad.
* * *
Summer had flown by and suddenly the holidays were upon us. Thanksgiving only made me realize how soon my due date was. Despite our family’s knack for horrendous and drama-filled dinner parties, this one went very well. My mother and Caroline hosted and arranged a beautiful meal, while Cedric insisted on roasting the turkey himself. It all turned out delicious and even my father behaved. The men retreated to the family room to watch their football game when my mother found me in the kitchen. “I’m glad you like those. I made an extra tray and put it in the fridge in case you want them in the middle of the night again.”
I paused with a deviled egg halfway in my mouth. “Again?” Then I remembered my craving a few months ago. Desmond left and came back in record time. I didn’t even question where he found them in my sleepy, hungry state. The morsels tasted just like this. Like Mom’s. “I didn’t realize you did that. Thank you, Mama.”
“Of course, sweetie. I was happy to get the text. Luckily, I had all the ingredients handy. I remember I craved fried okra with you. Your father had a time finding it in the middle of the night for me.”
The hint of a smile touched my lips. “I don’t think I’ve ever tried that. Is it good?”
My mother pondered a moment before rifling through the freezer. “Looks like my chef of a daughter in law has some frozen okra…Want me to make you some?”
The look in my mother’s eyes was pure eagerness. I was stuffed after a big holiday meal, but then again, with my pregnancy, I was always ready for a snack after an hour. “Sure, yeah, if you want to.”
Her returning smile was dazzling as she gathered the ingredients. I pulled up a barstool at the island and watched her work like I did when I was a little kid. I wondered what Krill would watch me do when they were born. I wasn’t a particularly great cook, and now with Caroline doing most of the cooking, I hardly touched a stove at all. What did I have that was motherly to even pass down to a child?
The anxious feelings pressed in on my forehead when my mother spoke. “You know, I’m not really a big talker, not like you and your sister. Maybe that’s why your father and I get on so well. There’s not a lot of words between us.” She dropped some flour battered cuts of okra into a sizzling pot of oil. “But we like doing things to show our love. Dad used to take y’all for those long rides to the lake after church. I like cooking and baking. We try to say I love you in our own ways. Maybe that hasn’t been enough.” She stood silent, her back facing me. It was then I saw my mother in a different light. I saw both of my parents in a different light, really. Growing up, my parents were these older, otherworldly things that had all of the answers. Looking back, I could more clearly see the ways they’d fallen short, and it was easy to fall into resentment over their flaws sometimes: my mother’s critical eye and my father’s short but curt words. But here I was, on a stool, watching my mother fry okra after a full night and day of cooking, just to say I love you in her own language. She was just as flawed as me. And I’d offer my baby the same. The appearance of a grown up, the cosplay of someone with their shit together, but my cracks would shine through. I’d mess up. And they’d look back and see it. I could only hope they also could clearly see the love too.
Maybe being a parent wasn’t about being perfect or presenting an ideal world and upbringing for your child. Maybe being a parent was more about learning to say I love you in a thousand different ways, every day, just hoping that some of them landed. Or at least that they landed harder than your shortcomings did.
“Oh,” my mother said in surprise as I hugged her from behind. Her now-wrinkled hands patted my arm as she strained the fried veggies from the pot. “I love you too, Dolly-Ruth,” she whispered.
thirty-seven weeks pregnant
THE DADCHELOR PARTY
BABY IS THE SIZE OF A BASEBALL CAP AND A STETHOSCOPE
Desmond
Not much made me nervous. I’d learned to ride a motorcycle at fifteen and wrecked more times than I could count. When I joined the marines, I’d lie in my bunk at night eager for the next day, bored out of my mind waiting. Never afraid. Even when I was rock climbing that fateful day and slipped, I thought, Well, that’s it. Time to peace out. My time here must be done. Nothing worried me…until her. It wasn’t just me anymore. Dolly Queen was a part of me. From the moment I saw her red hair, I knew it was the color of the blood rushing in my veins. Those wide hips and thighs soft as sin. I loved the feel of her soft, voluptuous belly as I thrust inside of her. Her ass, her full breasts. And now that she was pregnant? Good god. Her middle rounded more, the silhouette of her body in shadow no photograph of mine could adequately capture. She was radiant, divine, truly a goddess. My goddess. And she was carrying my child. Whether the DNA came from me or Cedric, it didn’t matter. The baby was mine. Hers. Ours. The three of us. Well, the five of us. Which was what I was worried about…leaving her with her sister.
Odette had become my little sister, too, in the time we’d merged families. She was more than family to Dolly; she was her best friend. But unfortunately, whatever the fuck kind of head trip Odie was currently on meant she’d been snarkier with Dolly, and I didn’t like that. At all. So much so I’d pulled her wife Caroline aside to warn that if Odette didn’t pull her shit together, I’d be booking her a hotel suite for nine months. They seemed to have made nice, but I was still wary. Hyperaware of every reddening of my queen’s cheeks. Every time her eyes dropped in nervousness or when she swallowed down her emotions that so clearly shown through her beautiful eyes. I’d do anything for that woman. And I felt like shit leaving her, if only for a night. At least when I left for overnights, I knew Cedric would be there. Him and I had a secret agreement that one of us would always be with her at night. I made an effort to always be with her when he was away for surgery rounds, and he’d clear his schedule the nights I had to camp on some godforsaken mountaintop, waiting for sunrise. Between the two of us giving our best, she’d maybe get something like what she deserved. We could attempt to come close to that goal, at least.
I’d sent a text to check in before entering the club to check in on her spa night. It better be the most relaxing, pampering night of her life for how hard it was for me to leave her so late in her pregnancy. She’d texted me back a photo of her tits under her robe, and that had an erection instantly straining against my jeans. The woman always did have a knack for sexting, goddamn. The shuffling of leather loafers halted next to me, and I knew who it was before looking up from my phone.
“It’s dark and neither of us are home with her. I don’t like it. Caroline probably didn’t arm the security system, and you know the dogs might as well be rats.” Cedric’s brow furrowed as he shoved his hands in his pockets.
“What choice do we have? She insisted. Our friends are all here; let’s just get this bullshit over with,” I replied, still clutching my phone. “Here, if I have to suffer all night so do you.”
“What do you mean—” Cedric adjusted his glasses. “Fuck. Our wife is something else. I have to show you the one she sent me last night.”
I chuckled before taking my phone back. “We need to make a shared album or something, dude.”
“That reminds me, I got the green pair.” My best friend smirked smugly.
“With the flowers? You bastard, you know I had my eye on those.”