I kept walking, like I hadn’t just heard Von having the best sex of his life.
My mornings were supposed to begin with bottles, cartoons, and soft, not the grinding soundtrack of a romp in the sheets.
I glanced down at Mysun, cradled comfortably in my arms.
“You ain’t hear nothing, baby. And if you did, your first word better not have nothing to do with arching a back.”
He blinked.
“Amen,” I added, pushing the pacifier back into his mouth.
I made my way to the kitchen, the familiar rhythm of parenthood settling around me. Opening the fridge, I grabbed a bottle of breastmilk, set it in the warmer and gently bounced Mysun on my hip.
“Just a few seconds, lil’ man. Patience, my love,” I murmured, watching the warmer as it worked its magic.
I made my way to the kitchen, the familiar rhythm of parenthood settling around me. After opening the refrigerator, I grabbed a bottle of breast milk, placed it in the warmer, and gently bounced Mysun against my hip.
“Just a few seconds, lil’ man. Patience, my love,” I murmured, watching the warmer work its magic.
It beeped a moment later, the soft chime letting me know it was ready. I tested a few drops against the inside of my wrist, then carried him over to the kitchen table and sat down.
“Here.” I guided the bottle toward his mouth. “Hold it yourself. Mama tired.”
Mysun’s tiny hand lifted and rested against the side of the bottle like he was actually considering my request.
I laughed softly. “Yeah, I know. You just got here. I’m asking for too much.”
His little fingers curled around the plastic while I supported the bottle and held it in place.
“One day, though, you gon’ hold this whole thing by yourself, and Mama is going to celebrate like she just got a full eight hours of sleep.”
A few minutes later, Von strutted into the kitchen, radiating a carefree energy. His humming filled the air, accompanied by a broad smile. The sweet scent of cocoa butter clung to him, mixed with a hint of post-nut clarity. His wild hair framed his face, and his robe hung loosely, barely tied, while his chest was thrust out confidently, as if he had just been unfolded like clean laundry and left to air-dry in the morning sun.
“Not you walking in here like you got a five-star review on Yelp this morning for ‘best arch game, grip strength, and emotional vulnerability’,” I kidded, squinting at him.
Von winked back at me with that familiar glint in his eye. “Good morning to you too, sunshine,” he replied, his voice playful.
“Just so you know, I heard you… we heard you,” I informed him, nodding pointedly at Mysun, who was blissfully preoccupied with his bottle.
Von chuckled. “Damn… I didn’t realize I wasthatloud.”
“Loud?” I raised a skeptical brow. “My child almost needed therapy before breakfast.”
Von covered his mouth, laughing. “Leave my nephew out of this.”
“I tried.” I chuckled. “Anyway, so, who is this one? Is he a newbie? He sounded like… fun.”
Von smirked as he moved to the counter, cracking eggs into a bowl.
“Oh, sis...” He placed one hand against his chest. “That man had me speaking in tongues, writing prayers in cursive, and briefly seeing my ancestors. I cried a little, lost feeling in one leg, and at one point, he stopped to ask if I was still alive.”
My mouth fell open. “And what did you say?”
“I told him, ‘Barely, but don’t let that discourage you.’”
I choked on a laugh. “You need professional help.”
“I got it this morning,” he shot back, shaking his head as he whisked the eggs. “As for him being new, yes… and no. We’ve been talking for about six months, but last night was his first time crossing the threshold intoVon’s Wonderland. You know my rule: “Nobody comes in this house, sees my bedroom, or earns toothbrush privileges until they pass the six-month probationary period. I need time to make sure they’re not crazy, broke, boring, secretly married, or still sharing a phone plan with their mama.”
