Stenton isn’t coming in. Good!
I lift from the bed just partially, excited at the swelling of my heart, my life. My joy: Jordan. His tall legs drag towards the bed and my outstretched arms engulf him a bit too zealously. The odor from his haphazard morning brush doesn’t eclipse my need to pull all the positive energy I can from his being. In this moment, he’s a reprieve from the grief I’ve been turning over in my head and heart all night without a moment of sleep. This little body in my arms tugs at my guilt for being angry over his conception. I don’t know what purpose I’d have if I woke up and didn’t have him to care for, to push my dreams for.
“Hey, baby,” my vocals are shaky yet determined. My Jordan. “You leaving, Mommy? You sure you wanna go? You can always stay with me.”
I don’t know why I just said that. That was discord. Yet and still, I don’t want the separation. I need my one sheer piece of joy with me. Juvenile, but my feelings are incredibly strong in this moment.
“No thank you,” Jordan mumbles. “Daddy’s taking me dirt bike riding in the desert!” That’s delivered more cheerily, though I don’t relish the idea.
For one, it is risky for a six year old. Two, it was one of my most memorable excursions from my first vacation with Stenton. Either way, there are more pending issues between Stenton and me that take priority over debating this activity for Jordan.
“Jordan.” I hear Stenton’s throaty morning vocals call, reminding me of his presence.
I can feel my anger resurfacing. So badly I want to call off this vacation with his father. I am his mother after all, and no matter how many years have passed, there is no statute of limitations on Stenton’s offenses to me as a kid.
“Daddy told me to come say goodbye,” Jordan notes.
I guess he needs to hurry along. They have a plane to catch. I grab him into my arms again, inhaling his scent, pulling on all those meaningful things he brings to my heart.
“I love you, Pumpkin.”
“Love you, too, Mommy,” Jordan garbles into my shoulder.
“You can come home anytime you want. Just call me, okay?” I hear the crackling in my voice.
I can’t let my son see me undone. He’s still a baby. Too young to not be frightened by it.
Get it together, Zoey!
“Okay, Mommy.” Jordan stands straight. “You can come if you want.”
“No, baby. You enjoy your time, okay?”
Jordan turns and heads for the door. “Bye, Mommy,” he tosses over his shoulder.
As soon as the door closes behind him, I throw my head into the pillow to muffle my gut cry. In the span of eight hours, my life has been flipped upside down. I haven’t experienced this type of dread since learning I’d lost Stenton and then being pregnant.
The phone rings. I’m a bit fuzzy…must have fallen asleep at some point.
“He-hello?”
“Are you still sleeping?”
“I guess so.” I sit up and back against the headboard. “How are you?”
“I’m fine. Why do you sound like that? Are you coming down with something? I leave you for less than twenty-four hours and Jordan gives you one of his bugs?”
“No, Bernard. I just had a late night. I slept a little late.”
“Yeah, I see,” he mutters doubtfully. “Have Jordan and his dad left?”
“Yes. Early this morning.”
“Okay. Well, we’re about to get out of here and head down to ATL. I’m bumming a ride with Zachary, Miles and two of their friends. I’ll see you in B’More, right?”
I want to ask why five grown behind men are piling into a mid-sized sedan, but I know his response would be something that would include not being able to cover the expense of a rental.