Page 50 of The One He Desires

My head jerks back as my mouth opens and closes as my brain spirals for the second time in a matter of minutes. I’ve seen many movies on this subject matter, and yet it still feels like I’m in the Twilight Zone about the meaning of Journee’s words. I have the ability to dissect the holes in a defendant’s case. But right now, I need Blue’s Clues and Dora the Explorer to break this down in layman’s terms.

“I think I need to take a pregnancy test.”

I nod continuously as I process the simplicity within Journee’s statement. I walk her to the living room with Sweet Face hot on our heels.

“I’ll be back. You stay here.” I pull the ottoman closer and prop her feet up like I’m scared she’ll break during my absence. “Keep an eye on Mommy for me, Sweet Face.”

“Okay, Daddy.” She gives me the symbol with her fingers as Journee’s eyes stretch from hearing her second word.

“Pretty cool, huh? I guess she didn’t wait for permission to accept me fully. I’ll be back.”

I kiss Journee’s lips and practically jog out of the room and out of the house to hit up the drug store not far from here. My heart beats like a drummer at a rock concert when I exit my driveway a couple of seconds later. Journee and I have been getting it in, so I’m not sure why I never considered the consequences of our actions. But as I make my way to purchase a test that will provide answers for her late period and new sick bout, I can’t help but be hopeful. It takes me no time to pull into an empty spot, put my vehicle in park, exit, and run into the entrance like I’m trying to beat an impending thunderstorm.

“Which aisle are the pregnancy tests in?” I ask the wide-eyed store clerk.

“A-aisle seven.”

I nod and then jog to the location I need and pull up short when I see the array of options for me to choose from. Clearblue. First Response. Equate. The names blur as I bite my bottom lip and shift from side to side. I speed-read through the information on the front of each box, unsure what any of it means. Hell, all I need is something that will say yes or no. Words like ‘six days sooner’ make my head swim because I have no idea what that timetable means.

My anxiousness and urgency to return to Journee force me to grab the first four boxes as I pray they’ll do the job. My pulse races, and I run back to the front counter to check out.

“Did you find what you needed, sir?” the same clerk asks.

“I hope so.” I retrieve my wallet and open and close it as I wait for all the tests to be rung up.

Five minutes later, I’m back in my vehicle and racing out of the lot back toward my house. When I pull into my driveway, I open my door before realizing that I haven’t put it in park. I dang near twisted my ankle with how fast I had to pull a Fred Flintstone while putting the gear into park. Sweat forms on my brow when I grab the bag and make a mad dash for the front door.

“You otay, Daddy?” The concern in my Sweet Face’s voice would be funny if I could settle the racing of my heart.

I can’t respond or react to her more than a quick nod as my sights shift to Journee. Her inquisitive eyes are on me, and her nose scrunches cutely.

“How many tests did you buy?”

“Four. I couldn’t understand any of them, so hopefully, one of them tells us what we need to know.”

Journee shakes her head, stands, removes the bag from my hand, and then lightly kisses my lips, calming me instantly. “I drank some water while you were gone, so thankfully, I have to pee. Do you want to come or keep Milan company?”

My eyes bounce from her to Milan as I consider my options. I can’t hold her hand while she pees, and my urge to pace might cause my nerves to rub off on her. But I don’t want to miss anything either.

“Come on. She should be good until we come back.”

I almost do a cartwheel when Journee makes the decision for me as I follow her to the half bath on this floor. With every step, I hear wedding bells because no matter what happens, I’m marrying this woman. Even the thought of Journee possibly carrying my baby expedites the timeline of my proposal. She and Sweet Face already live with me, so it’s the natural progression of our love affair. Not to mention, changing Sweet Face’s last name because everybody in this house will be a Kensington.

“Can you grab me a plastic cup from out of the kitchen? I won’t be able to pee on four sticks, and it’ll simplify the process.” Journee’s words force me to return to the present as I nod, leave her at the bathroom entrance, and quickly head for the kitchen.

I grab a cup from the stack but knock the pile over, which delays my return to Journee. I grumble and throw away the cups that hit the ground. Then head back to the bathroom, hand Journee a cup, and smile as she closes the door. My heart races a thousand beats per minute as I back up and lean against the wall. My mind races as I contemplate how the bedrooms will need to be adjusted to fit a new baby if Journee is pregnant.

A Year Later . . .

“Milan Kensington, if you don’t get down from there, I’m gonna show you what happens to hardheaded little girls.”

My hands rest on my waist as I watch Milan jump from the empty clothing rack she was treating like a monkey bar. All I saw was her falling and breaking something that would require us to spend countless hours at Kaigood Children’s Hospital. Milan pokes her lip and crosses her arms over her chest, and I contemplate the cost of giving her an attitude adjustment.

“Little girl, you’ve got a second to get you some act right.”

“Daddy!” Milan runs past me, and I have to close my eyes to recenter myself because I already know what’s coming.

Five, four, three, two . . .