"That one afternoon, I kissed you. In the middle of the street, where a white truck zoomed past our connected lips. And boy, it caused problems we couldn't have seen, but wasn't it also amazing?"
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Avoidant was my middle name. It was what I did when I was feeling anxious or scared, so when I had plans to tell Deen about my—our—pregnancy and the only result was arguing, I was deflated. Motherhood always scared me a bit and it didn't help when I felt like I was adding more stress onto Deen. He was transferring jobs and I wouldn't lie and say that I felt dreadful to approach him that we would be expecting a child. Not only that, but we had not talked about children as a colored and white couple. I was terrified.
"Paislee, my dear?" Ms. Diana called to me just as I was about to walk out of the shop's front door.
I turned. "Yes?"
Diana led us just outside the storefront and grabbed my hands like always. She fixed my hat on my forehead and my scarf around my neck just so like a mother would do.
"When are you going to tell that poor man? I've never laid eyes on him yet I feel for him."
"Poor man?"
"Your husband," she replied with a sigh. "When are you going to tell him that you're expecting?"
My face heated. "Tonight actually. I'm so nervous I could faint and empty my stomach. Nerves are eating at my insides. Gosh, the thought makes me sick."
"Oh, sweetie." Ms. Diana rubbed my cheek. "It'll be fine. Stay calm. If not for your sake then for your baby. I'll always be a phone call away. You need to tell him though to relieve some stress off of your shoulders, and because he is the father after all."
"I know," I said quietly. "It's later than I expected so I definitely need to get home. We'll speak tomorrow?"
"Yes ma'am. Be safe when walking home." Ms. Diana waved me off.
When I did return home, I saw the car in the driveway and nearly froze. Walking up the porch steps, I jumped when the front door suddenly opened to reveal Deen. His eyebrows furrowed a bit and his lips were in a subtle pout.
"Hi, angel. Come inside. Why so late?" Deen asked.
"Um, I was talking to Ms. Diana. Sorry," I said. I walked through the door to where the warmth invited me. I set my belongings down and awaited to rest my tired feet.
"Hey." I turned to Deen who was still at the door. "You didn't give me a hug when you came in. Is something wrong?"
I shook my head and wrapped my arms around his neck. He was warm but it did little to protect me against the buzzing in my stomach and stiffness. I was so nervous. I broke away from our embrace and headed for the kitchen to start on a late dinner.
Deen sat on a barstool and stared at me as I traveled my way through the kitchen. I was cutting onions when my eyes started to blur with tears. Hastily, I washed my hands and searched for a clean towel.
