Quarterback’s Surprise Baby(42)

"What's for dinner?" asks Darius. "I'm hooongry!" his little brown eyes glow. He rubs his stomach in an exaggerated parody of hunger. "Ronnie may have an X-Box but his mom can't make mac and cheese anywhere near as good as you!"

"Well thank you, Darius," I say, surprised. “It's nice to be appreciated now and then."

He continues to prattle on, telling me everything that Ronnie's family did, and grinning, I go into the kitchen to search for something - anything - that could be made into a dinner that will guarantee that I don't get demoted to lower status than "Ronnie's mom." Even if I’m only Darius’ sister. A girl’s got her standards, after all.



When the kitchen is finally cleaned, dishwasher humming it's way through a cycle, and the kids in bed kissed and tucked in with stories read, I realize for the second time that day just how flippin’ tired I am. After trudging up the stairs I quickly swipe my face with a facial wipe and take my phone to bed, which I see is still a little rumpled from this morning. My insides pleasantly turn over a little as I remember how Nicholas' body felt against mine, his strong shoulders, thin hips, and those delicious lines that led down to his belt buckle (and beyond), slung low on his hips. My cowboy, I think, and I feel myself throb. But unfortunately for me, I'm too tired to even think about taking care of the warm, dull, tingling ache that Nicholas always awakens in my core.

I fall into bed. My phone is the only thing that vibrates and I just barely catch his 'Good night, Adisa" message before my eyes shut and I barely move until the next morning, waking up in the exact same position I collapsed into.



Darius is incredibly impressed with the company car.

"This is one smooth ride!" he says, nodding his head approvingly. "Is this our new car?"

"Not really, it's just a loan," I explain as I merge into the traffic on the main road that leads to the school.

"From who, the government?" pipes up Chikae from the back seat.

I burst out laughing and quickly stop myself. "No baby, from my boss," I explain.

"That white dude? Santa Boss?" asks Darius. "Does he have more money than the government?"

"No way," I say, and this time I am completely unable to stifle my laughter. "But sometimes I wonder if he has more money than God."

Darius nods approvingly. "Nicholas is da man!"

My cheeks grow hot as I think of the way he took command in the bedroom yesterday, and I have to agree. "Mm hm," I answer vaguely.

"He da man!" echoes Chikae in her squeaky voice. She tosses her pigtails.

"I'm glad you guys like him," I say, trying to bring my concentration back to my driving, where it should be. But it's not hard to let my mind wander to such a delicious topic. Those beautiful eyes, leading down to a gorgeous set of shoulders, pecs, and abs… I have to shake my head to bring myself back into the moment. Darius is right though, the BMW is one smooth ride. I glide up to the school and shift into park, to drop the kids off.

Maybe this ride is a little too smooth. The moms are staring pretty openly. One of the other kids' moms gets out of her car and looks at the Beemer, a sneer of interest on her face.

"Look at you girl," she says enviously, drawing out the last syllable. "Where'd you get this fine machine?"

"From her boss! He rich!" yells Darius, before running off toward the big green doors of the school.

"He da man!" Chikae repeats. I blush furiously, thanking heaven for my dark skin. At least I can pretend to be taking it cool.

"It's a company car, temporarily on loan," I explain, in a way I hope doesn't sound to prideful, or too hasty. Super. Now I have the school moms' opinions to deal with.

"Is he single? Adisa, you better lock that shit down," she whispers the last out of earshot of the kids, but I am still mortified.

"He's my boss," I explain again, but I can barely meet her eyes. The vision of us in bed yesterday is still flashing in my mind, but with her words it seems a lot more... tawdry or something. Should I be ashamed? Is he just lending me this car because we slept together? Am I some kind of gold digger?

"Well you must be one good employee!" her laugh sounds more like a cackle as she walks away, and I jump back into the luxury vehicle and pull away as quickly as is safe. I don't want to get some kind of strange reputation. But surely she was joking.

I wouldn't have expected it, but in some ways I'll just be glad to have my old hoopty back. That way there will be no inopportune questions, and no awkward moments. But as I step on the gas and the car purrs into life, I know at least I am gonna enjoy this car while it lasts. This is a sweet ride, and so is Nicholas. And who cares what these silly mommies think - I am not one of them, not yet at least. I am a sister and I am allowed to date who I want, when I want.

And what I want to do now, is to grab a couple of coffees and go visit my dad in the hospital.



Saturday morning I am out at the hospital again, this time with the little ones, though they’ll spend most of the time in the playroom. It’s all a bit much for them to spend the whole visit in a hospital room, as concerned as they are. Their pursed mouths and knitted together eyebrows are almost comical in their earnestness. They're worried about their—well, our—daddy, but he is really doing so much better. His scar is healing well, he's walking—well more like shuffling, but it counts—down the hall and back, and the doctor thinks that he might be able to get out of the hospital as early as a couple weeks. I'm thrilled, because I finally see some life in the poor man since mama died. And we still haven’t discussed the insurance.

"Adisa," he confided in me last night. "I want you to know, during the operation, I saw your mother." His voice is low, confidential. "Keep this to yourself, baby."

"What do you mean you saw mama, daddy? How so?"

"When I was under, I felt myself rising up over my body and I watched the operation, for a moment, and then I saw a very bright light. I went toward it, but before I reached it, your mother was there. I felt her presence very strongly. I wanted to go with her." He coughs and I give him his glass of water, which he drinks too slowly for my curiosity, but what can I do. When he's finished I wipe the few droplets away from his mouth, and he continues. "Anyway, she told me, no. You can't come with me yet. It's not your time. You need to take care of the little ones."

My heart leaps at his words. And not only because he believes that he’s seen my mother. Which I get. After all, I imagine that I talk with her all the time. Could it be, that he will resume his fatherly responsibilities?

"I tried to tell her no," he says. "I told her I was ready to join her, and I couldn't live without her, but she was adamant. Just like your mother, isn't it."

I laugh. "Yes, when mama wanted something she was pretty serious about it," I say with a grin. "So she told you you have to take care of Darius and Chikae?" I prompt.

"Yes," he says with a faraway look in his eyes. "And she told me one other thing," he says and now he is focused intently on me. "She said, Nicholas is a good man."

Now it's my turn to sputter and cough. "She said what?"

"That's all she said, she didn't explain. After that, I found myself floating back to my body, back to the table, and that's that." His eyes are questioning. "Who's Nicholas, baby?" He asks finally.

"He's just my boss, daddy," I say, noticing that my voice has become unnaturally bright.

"Your boss?" He shakes his head. "No, from what she said, sounds like he's much more than that. Do you know another Nicholas?"

"I'm afraid he's the only one," I say. I look down at my hands, a little embarrassed. "But maybe one day he'll be more than that."

"Your boss at the restaurant?"

"No, he's the boss at Cor Industries. Nicholas Corbett."

"That so? I think I saw him on the cover of one of the business magazines in the waiting room."

"Could be," I admit. "He's pretty high up in the business world."

"Handsome white man," he says.

"Yes, that could be him, or one of his brothers. The whole family is pretty powerful."

There's a moment where he digests this information. "You didn't mention that you got another job," he says suddenly.

"It's just a temporary thing." I hadn't wanted to make daddy feel guilty, but we needed money when he stopped, well, functioning. And to be honest, the money would count for more than just a birthday, but it’s easier to think that we’ll just need it for something nice. "It'll be over in a couple weeks. It came up and I thought I could use something to tide us all over for a bit."

"Well, you hold on to him," says my daddy. "If he's the one your mother likes, and he's set up in the business world, then you hold on to him and don't let go!" His lips form a line and he looks away, a pleased expression on his face.

"Oh daddy," I say, a nervous laugh escaping my lips. "It's just not that easy sometimes." I stare at my hands, suddenly feeling shy. How to explain my situation with Nicholas? We don't know each other too well, he's my boss, we've had sex, and he is the kindest person I have ever met? None of this is something I want to tell my dad.