Page 43 of Sparks Will Fly

“I got this new shea butter for you.” She lifted the jar. “This scent is called magic waters, and it smells amazing.”

She pushed me toward the bed. I watched in awe as this woman took her time and moisturized me from head to toe, even going as far as giving me a foot massage. It reminded me of the humble work she did at Good Trouble for the girls on Sophisticated Saturday. I tried to fight the thoughts that said I didn’t deserve this woman because I knew I did. I showed up for her in the same ways she did for me. I always anticipated her needs or watched for areas where I could make things easier for her.

She had temporarily banned me from pouring money into the center. I respected her desire to fight for it in her own way, so I let her have it. But she knew if a cent was ever needed from my bank account, she could go get that. I was riding for her without question.

After she finished, she helped dress me. Of course, she chose for me to wear a pair of specially made boxers that had her face plastered all over it. Lovie was very territorial when it came to me, but I didn’t mind. Having a woman that was willing to fight for me healed me in other ways. I slapped her on the ass then accepted the kiss she planted on my lips.

“Let’s go eat.”

I followed her with my eyes glued to her fat ass bouncing as she walked. Those shorts were barely surviving her ass, and that thong was also still teasing me. I couldn’t wait to pull those shorts down so I could see it while murdering her pussy from the back.

She had already laid our plates on the island with cans of Cheerwine. My woman stayed on point, and I loved that about her. I pulled her seat out for her then tucked her in. I joined her then we held hands for a quick prayer.

“Lord, thank you for this food we are about to receive. Thank you for the hands that prepared it and the hands that are receiving it. It’s in your son Jesus’ name I pray and give thanks for my amazing wife. Amen.”

I opened my eyes to find Lovie blushing.

“Your wife, huh?”

I nodded. “Damn right. I’m putting a ring on that fucking finger.”

She tried to hide her smile by digging into her food. We talked about our days while we ate. She expressed concern about one of the little boys she adored. He was coming to the center less because he was turning to the streets. We debated on ways we could help him. She was certain he needed money to help take care of his sick mother. Even at fourteen, he was willing to do what it took. I knew what that was like and knew no young man should ever have to carry the burden of being the man of the house.

After dinner, we retreated to the living room to unwind for the night. We’d likely be out there until we were ready for bed. Lovie had two joints already rolled for us, so I laid on the couch first then she got in between my legs with her head resting on my stomach. My arms were so long I was able to rub her ass for comfort with one hand and search for something for us to watch with the other hand. We settled on this romantic comedy movie she kept talking about watching.

After a while, I sparked up the joint. The smoke filled the air quickly and relaxed me even more. I knew this bud was from Granny’s stash off one hit. Her shit just hit differently. I passed the blunt to Lovie as my phone started to vibrate. I reached for the phone and frowned when I saw the number flashing on the screen. I exhaled heavily tossing the phone down. My high was ruined just that fast.

“What? Who is it?” Lovie asked, sensing a change in my energy.

I ran a hand down my face. With a sigh, I kept it simple. “It’s her.”

She knew exactly whatherI was referring to by the understanding nod of her head.

“Are you ready to talk to her?”

I stared at the ceiling, thinking of my answer as the phone started to vibrate once again. I felt Lovie move and realized she silenced it all together so I could think. It was the little things like that that made me appreciate her even more. She understood what I needed even when I didn’t.

“How can I save anyone when I can’t save my own mother?”

Her hands began rubbing my arm in a comforting way.

“It’s not your job to save her, Romani. She is a grown woman who is fully aware of the choices she is making. Don’t carry the burden of her choices on your shoulders for another day.”

“Am I a terrible son if I’m not ready to heal what’s broken between us?”

I felt her shake her head. Glancing down my body, I found her looking up at me with her chin resting on my stomach.

“No. You’re not. You’re a real son who went through hell with your mother. You can take as much time as you need to be ready for that. And if you never are, that’s okay too. It’s your prerogative. None of us know what you went through or what it’s like to carry it every day of our lives. You need to do what’s best for you.”

Her voice was steady and compassionate as she encouraged me to trust myself and to release the guilt of not being able to save her. Her support was exactly what I needed as I decided I was going to change my phone number. For the day to come when I was willing to talk to my womb donor, I needed time to heal on my own. The constant pressure from her phone calls were pushing me farther away because I resented her a little more every time I saw that number pop up on my phone.

“Thank you for not judging me,” I whispered.

She offered me her pretty smile. “I could never, baby. I understand what that parent trauma is like. You don’t need fixing. You are perfect the way you are. Mommy issues and all, I still choose you.”

I loved the unconditional love, acceptance, and space to heal she supplied me with. She just didn’t know how she was helping me let go of my abandonment issues one step at a time by continuously showing up for me.

I wasn’t sure if I’d ever open my heart up to my mother again, but I knew one woman that had it without a doubt. She was so fucking beautiful and all mine. I pulled her up my body so I could taste her lips.

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