Page 37 of Tyriq & Teaira
“We?” my dad questions right as my momma screams.
“Te-air-ra! What is this? Is this what I think it is!” she exclaims as she snatches the picture from the table. After staring at it for what feels like forever, she shoves the picture into my dad’s face. He grabs it and my mom pops out of her chair. Her arms fly around me and she hugs me so tightly. “Baby, I can’t believe this. You’re pregnant, having a baby, and I’m going to be a grandma.” Her words start to break then she sniffles. She’s crying.
“Momma, you’re going to make me cry,” I tell her, on the verge of tears.
“Baby, don’t crush our grandbaby,” my dad jokes, his voice sounding closer. He’s out of his seat behind my mom. When she releases me, I see her tear-stained face and big ass smile. She’s too happy and I love it. “Congratulations, sweetheart,” my dad says while motioning for me to stand. I do and he pulls me in for one of his big, comfy, warm hugs.
“Boy, you better get up,” my mom says to Tyriq. I turn my head and see him get up. My mom hugs him while I embrace my dad. After hugging and loving on one another, my mom and I go into the kitchen for the cobbler while my dad and Tyriq stay in the dining room. As soon as we are inside, she fires off at least a hundred questions. “When did you find out? How far along are you? What’s the due date? How long do I have to plan the shower? Are you doing that gender reveal like I see online?Does Rebel know? Of course she knows. I’ll talk to her so we can plan this shower? Lawd, I’m finally about to be a grandmother. Or maybe glamma. Nah, I don’t like that. Maybe Yaya? No, that’s too old sounding. I am not old. Gigi? No, I don’t like that either. Deedee? Oh. I think I like that. Or maybe I’ll wait for my baby to get here and let her or him decide.”
“Are you done?” I tease and she just laughs.
“I am talking a mile a damn minute but I can’t help. My baby is having a baby,” she gushes while pulling me in for another hug.
During the rest of dinner and dessert, I lose count of the hugs from her and my dad. They are beyond excited about me having a baby and their excitement is contagious as hell. While my mom shows Tyriq every single picture of me from birth to high school graduation, I can clearly see myself being that extra with my baby. When we finally leave my parents around nine, I’m pretty sure Tyriq knows my entire life history. He was so sweet and attentive as she went on and on.
“I’m still full,” I sigh as I stretch my legs across his lap. It’s eleven but I’m not ready to go upstairs. Since I slept the entire ride back to Diamond Falls, I’m wide awake now.
“Yo’ mom threw down. I’m full as fuck,” he says.
“It’s getting late. You should stay,” I say.
“I wasn’t leaving,” he assures.
I don’t bother to hide my smile either. When I say our little arrangement is over, that shit is over. I like him here, in my space. I love it when he stays over. I fall asleep with his big hands caressing me and wake up to the same. He fits into my life and schedule and it just works.
We’re having a baby together, and as independent as I claim to be, I do not want to do any of this alone. I’m just gladhe doesn’t want me to do it alone either. His tall, sometimes domineering, presence calms me and allows me to relax into my soft girl era and I love it.
Before dinner, I was talking to my mom about this very thing. Of course, she immediately liked Tyriq, and when it was just me and her in the kitchen, she commented on how she could see how much I liked him. Bringing him there was definitely a green flag. I don’t do that. I’ve only brought two men to meet my parents and neither of them are here now. I vowed that the next one would be the last one. I just never thought it would be my little boo thing, Tyriq.
I totally misjudged him when we first met. I was looking for young, wild, and fun but found mature, caring, and thoughtful. He’s the epitome of not judging a book by its cover and it’s been to my pure benefit. I like the man that he is, really like him. I’m just overthinking things and wondering if my feelings are changing simply because of the baby. Relationships rooted in sharing a child aren’t sustainable; there has to be more, real feelings not manufactured ones simply because he’s the father of my child. I’m hoping that’s not the case with me.
“What you smiling about?” he asks, pulling me from my thoughts.
My mom’s words ring in my ear when I contemplate my answer. When she asked if I thought Tyriq might be my person, I answered honestly and said, “I hope so.” In true Diane fashion, she imparted some of her boundless wisdom and told me that hope can be the beginning of a possible journey to love. She told me to lean on my hope so I’m going to just do that.
“You,” I admit.
“I’m funny?”
“Sometimes but that’s not why I’m smiling. It’s us. This. My lil boo thing hookup tur—”
“Ay. I hope the lil boo thing ain’t me,” he says, frowning hard.
“Stop frowning. It’s just something I say. I’ve never repeated that to anybody. But that’s what I was looking for that day at the block party and so were you,” I say and his tight face softens. “You are so much more than that. I was just thinking how much my reality is so much better than perception and I’m so glad. I’m glad to be doing this.” When I place my hand on my stomach, he covers it with his. “Our baby has such a thoughtful and caring father.”
“And a beautiful, smart, and talented ass mother,” he says before leaning in and kissing me tenderly. When he finally releases me from his soul snatching kiss, he touches the loose, wild strands from my now nonexistent bun. “This is your hair?” he asks and my lips immediately purse at his odd ass question.
“What?” I ask, my flabber gasted.
While still touching my hair, he laughs a little then says, “I’m serious. I was looking at the pictures with your mom. You had this same hair.”
“Yeah. It’s my hair.”
“No extra in here with that lace shit? No wig shit? Just you?”
“Yes. All my hair. You thought I wore a wig?”
“I don’t know. I can’t tell that shit.” He pushes a finger through my hair, trying to do something; I don’t know what though. His squinted eyes and focus almost make me want to laugh but I hold it in. He’s really curious and I’m amused as hell. “So I can touch it?”
