Page 34 of A Lifetime in 30 Days
But that wasn’t the case with Sanni. Vanna saw how hard Sanni worked to take care of her son. She heard about all the things Sanni did for him, the sacrifices she made to ensure his well-being and happiness. If ever she’d witnessed what a good mother—even a single one—could be, it was Sanni. So she was certain Sanni would be the same for this new baby. And in that moment, Vanna decided that she would help her. Whatever Sanni needed to make this experience less stressful, to ensure that she was always able to give her children the very best of herself—without having to be worried or stressed about anything—that’s what Vanna would do. It’s what both Sanni’s children deserved.
Sanni shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said quietly. “I just needed to say it out loud. To tell somebody.” She sighed. “I know I have a lot to think about, a lot to work out. But I figured you would need to know eventually anyway, so why not let you be the first.” She gave her a small smile then, and Vanna returned it.
“Well, I’m honored for that privilege.” Then she glanced at the clock and noted it was time for both of them to get off. “Hey, why don’t I cook us something nice for lunch tomorrow? I think I have the makings for lasagna at home. I can whip that up and bring it in tomorrow, and we can sit in here, eat, and watch Netflix for an hour.”
Sanni rubbed her nonexistent stomach. “You tryin’ to feed this baby already?”
Vanna chuckled. “Absolutely. The same way I’m always trying to feed its mommy. I’m gonna take good care of this little one, you just wait and see.”
At that, Sanni smiled. A slow, genuine smile that touched her pretty eyes and warmed Vanna’s exhausted soul.
Chapter 11
At seven forty-five that night, Vanna eased the glass dish containing a bubbling and delicious-smelling lasagna out of her oven. She’d gone straight home from work and hopped in the shower, then came downstairs to cook. With the music on one of her favorite playlists titled#rbthrowback, she relaxed enough to sing and move about the kitchen, cooking the food she knew would help soothe a young soul tomorrow. And probably another night this week, since she planned to put some in a separate container for Sanni to take home. She also made chocolate pudding for Mikal because he loved it and Sanni didn’t know how to make it.
Dressed in legging shorts and an old New Edition T-shirt—because she didn’t dare wear the one she, Jamaica, and Ronni had gotten last year when they’d seen the group in concert—she put the dish on top of the warming pads she’d set on the island. She sang along to the lyrics of one of her oldie-but-goodie favorites, Deborah Cox and Whitney Houston’s “Same Script, Different Cast,” and had just moved to the refrigerator to grab the bottle of wine to pour herself a second glass when there was a knock at the door.
Setting the bottle on the island, she grabbed her dish towel and made sure her hands were wiped clean as she went to answer it.
“Aden?” she asked in surprise when she saw him standing on her porch, dressed in blue basketball shorts and a gray sleeveless T-shirt.
“Hi, Savannah,” he said. “I would think after the weekend we shared, you’d stop seeming so surprised to see me.”
His tone was light as he spoke, but she was still confused. “Um, I’m not ... Well, yes, I guess I am surprised. Were we supposed to see each other today? I mean, with the day I’ve had, I definitely could’ve forgotten. But I usually put all my appointments into the calendar on my phone.”
“So, I would be an appointment?” he asked.
“Well ...,” she started to say, then closed her mouth.
He chuckled. “On second thought, don’t answer that. Can I at least come in?”
“Oh, yeah. Sure,” she said, and stepped aside to let him into the house. Once he was inside, she closed the door and walked up the stairs behind him.
He followed the music back to the kitchen and leaned against the island in a way that was far too familiar for her liking. Yes, they had a good weekend together, but this was still her house and hers alone. But he’d come in and now looked like he belonged here. She didn’t even want to consider how much that possibility frightened her.
“Okay, I have to be honest, I’m not used to this,” she said. “You just popping up whenever you feel like it and coming in here like you’ve been coming here forever.” She stopped and sighed because she didn’t know what else to say to articulate how confused she was feeling at the moment. Today was just a roller coaster of emotions, and she was ready to get the hell off right now!
“That’s fair.” His hands were clasped in front of him, and he looked annoyingly calm ... and sexy. “I’ll call or text before I come next time.”
“There’s going to be a next time?” she asked.
Now he raised a brow. “I’m going to ignore that question because we already had this conversation.”
She didn’t know which conversation he was referring to. They’d had their after-sex discussion early Sunday morning, then another after-sexchat before he’d left and she’d gotten ready for church. Throughout the rest of the day yesterday had been full of text messages that she’d been unusually excited to return. So technically, there were several conversations he could be referring to.
“And I had lunch with Jovani today. He told me about what was going on with Caleb. I figured you’d need a distraction this evening, and I meant to get here earlier, but I had a meeting with my marketing people that lasted way longer than planned,” he said.
She folded her arms over her chest. “Isn’t that a violation of attorney-client privilege? Jovani telling you about my case?”
Now she was certain the look he was giving her was one of mild annoyance. It was unfortunate for her that he still looked hot when he was getting pissed.
“We talked about Caleb, who was a frat brother to both of us,” he told her. “So there was no privilege violation.”
She didn’t have a response for that.
“But since you seem so tense and obviously bothered by me being here, would you like me to leave?” he asked.
Damn. She was not in the mood for Aden’s Superman routine tonight. All day long she’d planned for this quiet time—well, her alone time, since Faith Evans’s “Love Like This Before” was now blaring through the speaker. Sanni’s dilemma had altered the lie-back-and-relax part of her evening a little, but she hadn’t minded that because she needed to eat too. But now, he was here, and while her immediate feeling about that was,Wow, this man must really be into me, and damn, doesn’t that feel good for a change?she was having a hard time figuring out if sheshouldbe feeling that way.
