Page 10 of Counting His heartbeats

"Hi, brudder. I missed you," I express before Zion's arms wrap around my body, rocking us from side to side.

"Mhm. You were my first stop before heading home. I promised you this hug."

This moment and embrace from Zion somehow comforts me while strengthening me after an emotional yet fulfilling day.

Two WeeksLater

Journal Entry #2

I don't know why I'm nervous about this appointment. I'm a thirty-one-year-old man with more issues than airport security during a critical weather event. I should have been made an appointment with this lady, although it's hard to admit that your problems are more significant and greater than you can handle. No matter how much I know Kyce and Kayshon have enjoyed talking to this woman, I struggle to lay my cards on the table. Having to face not only my traumatic past regarding my birth but I'd also have to deal with the skeletons I tried to bury in the Gardner's backyard. Seeing Rema's ass not long ago had me mentally out of sorts because my dick wanted to see if she still had the ability to make me cum like a geyser. Yet my mind wanted to scrub every dirty deed I did withher from my existence. The war between my dick and brain is really why I made the appointment with this head doctor. Oh, and the beauty from two weeks ago. That's an analysis for another day, though.

"All right, God. I'm going to this appointment, but if this woman doesn't say the right things, it'll be my first and last time fooling with her."

Heading to the bathroom to handle my hygiene and get ready for the upcoming appointment with Dr. Letitia Baxter, I attempt to shift my focus from the words I put on the blank page of my journal. Writing my thoughts isn't something I ever saw myself doing, but I trust that Mama Lo knows what she's talking about now.

"Alexa, play Kathy Taylor radio on Pandora," I call out after entering the bathroom and starting my shower.

"Kathy Taylor radio from Jawaan's Pandora..."

"Well, all right, Alexa girl. I can get with this," I say, bobbing my head when an unfamiliar song plays with a nice beat.

?

God is.

God is my everything.

?

My body moves to the beat with the water cascading over me, and for a minute, I groove to the song before singing along to the catchy lyrics. Thanks to Ms. Aretha, I have more than rap and R&B stations on Pandora. I also found that I love old-schoolgospel with a churchy feel that penetrates my spirit, which led to Ms. Aretha suggesting this particular station. Grabbing my washcloth, I squeeze my body wash on the fabric, lather it, and clean my body, feeling lighter and energized for whatever the day brings. Depending on how this counseling session goes, I'm planning to go by the hospital to see Little Man and spend about an hour with him so he and I can get acquainted. If my mood is sour after the session, I'll go to work to check in with my team. Cybersecurity can often lift my spirits because it's an exciting field to be in and one that so many abuse in deceitful ways. It makes me appreciate having the ability to block, prevent, or stop deceptive tactics.

Turning off the water fifteen minutes later, my shoulders bounce when I hear the song playing through the speakers.

?

I don't know how God's gonna.

I don't know when, when He's gonna fix it.

?

"Ooh, I need to know who this one is by so I can cop it. I love the vibes of this song," I say, wrapping the towel around my body while moving quickly to my phone to pull up my Alexa app. "Brenda Waters...'Victory'. Bet."

Nearly Two Hours Later

"I've been told that icebreakers are the way to go in these situations, so do you mind if I test the theory? I'm sure you've heard about me since you're in sessions with my brothers, but I know nothing about you. So, for my comfort's sake, I want tosee how well these theorists know the studies they talk about or conduct. Do you mind?" I ask.

I have been staring around the office of Dr. Letitia Baxter for the last ten minutes, and while I can appreciate the peaceful music playing, I need to settle my mind. Sure, the intimate vibes from the low mood lighting are cool and probably therapeutic, but a man like me isn't accustomed to this type of atmosphere.

"Sure thing. My job is to make sure you're comfortable so we can have a mutually beneficial exchange. So, I'm good with an icebreaker if that'll help you," Dr. Baxter says.

"Okay. First, do we need to stick with the stuffy title, Dr. Baxter? I respect you and everything, but you're about to learn everything but how often a week I take a shit, so I'm not really feeling the formality. It makes this feel robotic, and I need to bring you down to a level of my homie or something."

The smirk on Dr. Baxter's lips changes her countenance, making her brown face tinge red, causing my lips to upturn.

"I'm good with whatever you want to call me."

"Bet. I'll think of something for you to slide into my female homie slot. In the meantime, let's get personal for a second. How many bunions have you got? Your feet look great in those heels, but I've seen some of the most diabolical toes known to womankind when the red bottoms come off."

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