Page 3 of The One He Desires

“Who is it?”

“TT Uri,” Milan says before she hands me the phone.

“Thank you, baby. How about you go play, and I’ll call you when dinner is ready?”

Milan smiles and runs out of the kitchen like her daddy is an Olympic track star.

Hell, I wish.

“Hey, girl, hey,” I say in a singsong voice, ignoring the statement in my head.

“Hey, bestie. I was just calling to check on my favorite girls. Millie didn’t give me time to check on her before she passed you the phone. What did you do to my god baby?” Zuri asks.

“Made her wait for dinner because I was reading a letter from her godfather.”

“Oh. Is everything okay?”

I shake my head and finish putting the broccoli on so it will be done around the time the chicken nuggets are. When I’m done with that, I take a seat at the table and answer Zuri’s question.

“He’s getting out. He didn’t tell me an exact date, just said I’d better show up when he gives me the information. All of my communication with Jamarion has been through letters and phone calls because he wouldn’t let me come see him. How the hell am I gonna deal with him on the outside? Better yet, how did you let me enter into any type of relationship with this man? What kind of therapist/best friend are you?”

“Tuh. Don’t you dare try to put this manure in my lap. You were the one talking about how cool he is when I tried talking you off the ladder. Who becomes a pen pal in today’s climate of crazies anyway? You, the lonely chick who should have been riding the next dick to get over the one that double-crossed her.”

A loud laugh comes from deep in my belly when Zuri finishes her spiel. My embarrassing truth is that I used Jamarion to fill the empty spaces in my desire to secretly hold on to BN. I initially was okay with being his pen pal because I thought for sure he would give me additional dirt on Milan’s sperm donor. But Jamarion never mentioned BN in his letters, and by then, I had gotten attached to him. It didn’t help that I spilled my pregnancy details like he slid his dick in me to go half on a baby.

I didn’t plan to get pregnant, let alone carry out the nine months by myself, so it was easy to latch onto Jamarion. At one point in my pregnancy, my hormones had me imagining us in a different capacity. Thankfully, that’s a delusion I shared with Zuri, who literally slapped the thought out of me. What’s sad is that I want marriage and everything that comes with it. I want a man who will not only love me but also my daughter, as we deserve to be loved. I want the fairy tale that doesn’t feel like pretend. But how I will get it is a mystery because I only go to work, my parents’, and with Zuri when our schedules permit. Dating seems like a fantasy, and honestly, I’m not sure if I’ll get the chance to do it again.

“Talk to me, Journee.” Zuri’s voice is softer than it was seconds ago, and my chest tightens from the knowledge of her knowing I’m stewing about something.

I sigh heavily and then let my thoughts flow freely because I know the last thing Zuri will do is judge me. I’m struggling with Jamarion’s release because I’m unsure how things will look for us with him on the outside. Jamarion and I live two different lives, and I don’t know how my child and I will manage to fit into his world. Jamarion is a street pharmacist, and under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t associate with someone like him. But I can’t fake our connection. Not to mention the fact that I had given him the privilege of being Milan’s godfather. I can’t even explain why, other than that I know Jamarion is the only male figure in Milan’s life besides Dad.

“From what you’ve told me about that man, I believe that you and Millie will be safe regardless of his lifestyle.”

“He’s a drug—how can we possibly be safe? He got caught and did four years. I can’t take the risk of being around him with Milan, and KPD invades our space. Then that lifestyle has other factors that can be life-altering.”

“You’re forgetting the fact that you spent a couple of years with a man who’s also in jail for the same thing. Said man is the one you were busting it wide open for and with whom you created life. Let’s not forget your past while you’re trying to find something to judge another about.”

“Wow. Make me swallow my tongue, bestie.”

“Perspective is all I want you to have. BN wasn’t a saint, and you strutted around the city like he was the best thing since sliced bread. My only prayer is that you will see that you and my baby deserve a man more suited for the clothes you supply in your boutique.”

What can I say to the things that Zuri has said without hesitation or fear of my rebuttal? Absolutely nothing. The truth is often hard to swallow, but it’s always worth digesting. Zuri, having said her peace on the subject, transitions the conversation to something else. I continue talking to her as I put the finishing touches on dinner, then feed my baby. For now, I’m gonna let tomorrow worry about itself.

I’m tired and should have drunk more than the one cup of coffee I had to help me get through this day. But I have to complete these trial notes and don’t feel like taking a break just yet. Hopefully, I’ll be able to get out of here early so I can get some rest. Staying late tonight sounds as appealing as a TV dinner after a long and trying work day.

“I heard Marjorie sucks a mean dick. Do you think I should find out if the rumor is true?”

I lift my head with my eyes pinched and wrinkles across my forehead. Of all the interruptions I block on a given day, this is the one that has caught me completely off guard.

“Where’s Cynthia?”

Cynthia Wright doesn’t allow anyone to enter my office without having an appointment. She also always announces the person before she walks them through the doors. The fact that he was able to get in lets me know that my assistant is either slipping or he’s turned on his charm.

“She ain’t out there. Now, what do you think? Should I take Marjorie for a spin or not?”

“Why is this something you need my opinion and input on, man?”

Kairo Kensington has raised three exceptional kids, which should be commendable, but in moments like this, I wish my egg donor had reconsidered her decision to walk away. Or why I’m the only one who has to deal with his shenanigans.