Page 3 of Raising Love
I placed my camera on the tripod, adjusting the lighting before sitting down to record.
“This is a test video,” I announced to the camera, practicing a few smiles.
Because Leo was right—I tended to be a bit uptight. His nickname for me, 'Ivy League,' was a playful jab at that. I was constantly working not to let that side show too much, which was a personal battle.
After checking the playback, my phone rang, snapping me out of my focus.
“Who the hell is that?” I muttered, picking up the phone to see Kendra's name. I answered immediately.
“What’s up, girl?” I greeted her. “Everything okay?”
“Damn.” Kendra chuckled on the other end. “Can I get a hello first?”
“Not when you’re calling after midnight,” I retorted, sinking back into my chair. “What are you even doing up?”
“What are you doing up?” she shot back.
“Answering your call, obviously,” I quipped.
She laughed loudly. “Well, I figured you’d be up. I was actually hoping you weren’t.”
I glanced at my camera setup, sighing. “Well, you know your best friend.”
“Mm-hmm,” Kendra agreed. “I know she works too damn hard.”
“There’s no such thing,” I countered.
“I caught a bit of you and Leo on air tonight after his game.” She giggled. “I swear, I love seeing you two together.”
I rolled my eyes. “He’s a jackass.”
“Oh, you love it!” Kendra teased.
“Anyway,” I shifted the topic. “What’s up?”
Kendra had tried to set Leo and me up during our first week as freshmen in college. She and Tyrell, Leo's best friend from high school, had recently started dating, and naturally, she attempted to match me with Tyrell's friend. It didn’t take long to see that he wasn’t for me. Leo was incessantly jovial, a class clown who rarely took things seriously. On our double date, he spent more time eyeing every woman that passed by than engaging in our conversation. By the end of the night, it was clear the feeling was mutual. Leo even started calling me 'Ivy League,' joking that having a conversation with me was as tough as getting into an Ivy League school.
Over the years, he started using that nickname as his way of saying 'obviously,' always teasing me with a playful tone.
Still, that nickname was a bit of a trigger. I've always felt slightly out of place among my peers, though Kendra never made me feel that way. She treated me not just as a friend but as a sister.
“I was just calling to remind you about the baby shower,” Kendra said.
“The one I organized and am hosting for you?” I replied, my tone playful.
She laughed. “I know you're swamped, and I just wanted to make sure you remember your dear friend.”
“Nothing about you is ‘little’ anymore, Kenni.”
She gasped playfully, and I chuckled. “I’m kidding... sort of.”
When Kendra first told me she was pregnant, I thought it was a joke. The same went for her engagement. Now here she was, married, expecting, and moving into a house in Greene Gardens, the new village everyone in New York seemed to be talking about. Meanwhile, I was in a co-working space, red-eyed and scrambling up the career ladder at thirty.
It is what it is.
“And for the record, I’m never too busy for you or the baby... which you still haven’t named, and you haven’t even told me if it’s a boy or a girl.”
“I want it all to be a surprise,” she insisted. “Even Tyrell and I don’t know what we’re having.”
