A Necessary Struggle: Senior Year

Chapter Eight

The nursery. Safiya's eyes brushed across the soft blush walls with a bitterness nipping at the overwhelming elation swelling through her soul. The simplistic twin etchings of ballerinas on eggshell bristol paper with raw oak frames over the white baby bed. She rocked in the quaint armchair, hugging her tired body as she cradled Ameera, who was too busy getting her stomach filled to care about the surroundings or the noise humming from downstairs.

But Safiya was tuned in. The kitchen was right below the nursery so she was privy to the events unfolding just below her. The chipper young boy's voice illustrating all the fascinating tales of classroom banter, cafeteria raucous and recess fiascos floated up the stairs with the cool, easy air of the A/C. Sylvan bustled around the kitchen, rattling pots and pans, the rustle of bags as she dug out the ingredients she was going to string together to feed the child she bore and the man she continued to love.

Safiya couldn't fight the tinge of hurt that gnawed at her heart. Those were the things she hoped for when she was a young, starry-eyed freshman straight off the plane from California. She was sure she would further her education and find the right guy in the process so by the time she was close to thirty she'd have a successful career and a husband, to boot. Although the house she presently sat in wasn't her exact style, she wouldn't gripe if it were the four walls she had to reside in. She wanted to be the woman downstairs making dinner or watching dinner be made instead of the one harbor upstairs feeding a love-child.

The crack of the door was widened with an easy push. The movement called her mind from the epicenter of her thoughts and fully in reality. She blinked on the form until the person registered in her psyche. A subtle smile drew on her lips at the sight of him.

"I thought you weren't breastfeeding anymore?" Carter asked entering the room with a mug of tea. Mint chino shorts complimented his honey tone, a sign he spent most of his summer outside by the pool and not stowed away in his home office reading those books about historical events that she missed hearing him talk about—the gleam of excitement glowing in his gunmetal eyes. It was paired nicely with a cream button-down short-sleeve shirt showing off the taut biceps that were sculpted by earlier morning gym sessions.

"I won't for long." Safiya felt a chill rush through her body is in a vulnerable state under his gaze. She cleared her throat, her arms fidgeting with her hold of Ameera. Her squirming doesn't fret the baby, she stays latched on with her eyes sucking with a hand firmly planted on her mother's breast. "Can you turn around?"

Carter's eyes fell to the ground, "Sorry. I..." He shook his head with a slight sigh. "It's just I like..." His voice dropped lower but she heard his whisper. "...seeing you like this."

Safiya ignored the warmth rushing to her cheeks, casting her sight back on her baby feeling the need to explain herself. "I'm weaning her off but she loves these moments after waking from a nap. You weren't here and Sylvan was in a session, so..."

"You don't have to explain." His head lifted. "If she needs it, we give it. If she wants it, we supply it."

Safiya humphed. "Is that your motto for fatherhood?"

"No." His lips curved up. The lips she loved to taste. She ignored the remembrance with a hard swallow as he corrected,  "Yeah."

"Well..." She gently caressed the little one's cheek. "She won't get everything she wants. She'll have to learn that lesson, no one gets everything they want and even though it's bittersweet...it'll work out."

"Will it...you know work out?"

His words brought her eyes to his, seeing the magnitude of perplexity submerged in his irises. "Things always have a way of working out. Time settles the dust, flared emotions subside. Pain lessens and life adapts to the new rhythm of things."