Bumped - Completed Novel

Bumped - Chapter Nineteen

Déjà was practically glowing as she sprayed on some perfume. I had been watching her get ready for her big date for the past hour. Instead of her usual spandex themed ensemble, tonight she wore a simple black dress with a pair of pumps.

"You look beautiful."

"I still don't know what he wants to talk about, I'm hoping he'll want to move back in. Maybe we can get a bigger place together. Sucks to try and sell this place in this market right now but-"

"Girl, slow down! Get through dinner before you start planning out the rest of your lives together."

She squeezed my hands and I gave her a hug just as the doorbell rang. A nervous Steve fidgeted on the doorstep. The kids gave him a lukewarm, just-been-dropped-off-this-morning reception. Only Tyra, the youngest barreled into his legs as though she hadn't seen him for months. He had traded his Mauchos for a more age-appropriate khakis and a white shirt. He whisked Déjà away in a matter of moments and in their absence, three sets of eyes turned to me.

"I'm hungry!" wailed Tyra, the youngest while Jolie and Steve Jr. engaged in a shoving match.

"Didn't your mom just make you something to eat?"

"I want cereal!"

"Me too!" Steve Jr. and Jolie said, momentarily forgetting their beef.

"Alright. Let's go in the kitchen. Where does your mom keep her menus?"

"Menus for what?" asked Steve Jr.

"To order out? How else do you guys eat?"

"Mommy says there's a baby in your tummy," Jolie said as she grabbed my hand.

"Yes there is," I answered, tussling her little Afro puffs.

"How did it get there?"

"Um, hold that thought."

I went into the living room to call Justine; she needed to get over here now.

"I'll be there soon if I don't maim Amara first," Justine said from her cell.

"Hurry up, they want to eat and they're asking questions, what am I supposed to do?"

I found a bag of chips and sent them into the room with it and a remote control for the TV. Five-year-old Jolie dragged out a Barbie Glam vacation house (or so she said) to the middle of the room and said, "Will you play with me?"

I lowered myself to the floor and she handed me a Barbie doll with chopped off hair.

"Here, you can be her. That's Venetasiatic."

"Thanks. I'm going to call her V for short."

Jolie plopped on her stomach and started undressing one of the dolls.

"Why do you think there's a toilet in the bathroom? It's not like she's going to go and use it during one of my games. That's just weird."

"Well, suppose V caves into peer pressure and goes out on a night of binge drinking and the next morning she has the worst headache, she's got to puke somewhere."

The doorbell rang, saving me further explanation. So much for my teachable moment. Justine had arrived and brought along her 12-year-old who played with the kids in the back room while we talked. I overheard Jolie asking Amara, "What's binge drinking?" as they walked into Déjà's room.

Justine left around nine after the kids were in bed. Of course, she neglected to tell me that they wouldn't stay in bed. Five trips to the bathroom, three requests for water and a steady chorus of "but I'm not tired," almost sent me to the closet to hide.