by E. N. Joy
“Oh my God! What is he doing here?” she whispered. She would have yelled it, but her voice was barely working. Her brain was hardly working. Her heart, her limbs, her lungs. She could hardly breathe.
“Ganny!” her son shouted as he hopped down off the couch and went running to the door. Once he reached the door and right as his little hand reached the knob, Deborah fought out of her mental paralysis and scooped him up into her arms.
“No, no, no, son. That’s not Ganny,” she told him. “God, that is so not your Ganny.” Deborah just stood there holding her son nervously, clueless as to what her next move should be. The one thing she wasn’t clueless about, though, was that she could not leave Lynox standing out there on her front porch. “Oh, God help me. Please.”
Once again, right when Deborah had had things all planned out, Lynox, marching to the beat of his own drum, got everything all out of tune.
The doorbell rang again.
“Think, Deborah, think,” she said to herself. But what was there to think about? She didn’t have time to think. Lynox was going to think she was crazy if she didn’t open that door. So, with no other options, she walked her son back over to the couch, sat him down, then went and opened the door. “Lynox, hi, glad you’re here. You’re early.” Deborah tried so hard to remain calm, but the fact that Lynox kept taking it upon himself to show up early was bothering her. Had she had nothing to hide, maybe it wouldn’t have gotten under her skin so much. But that wasn’t the case. She had plenty to hide.
“No, I’m right on time,” he begged to differ. “Your text said you’d see me at eight-thirty.”
“No, I’m sure it said nine o’clock,” Deborah insisted.
“No, I’m sure it said eight-thirty.” Lynox reached in his pocket. “See, I still have the text.” He pulled out his phone, pulled up the text on his screen, and showed Deborah. “See, eight-thirty.”
She felt so stupid, because lo and behold, the text read eight-thirty, which only meant one thing: she’d sent her mother and Lynox the wrong texts. If she’d sent Lynox the text telling him she’d see him at eight-thirty, that meant she’d sent her mother the text saying she’d see her at nine. It would be another half hour before her mother arrived. Now what in the world was she going to do about her son for the next thirty minutes?
Chapter Twenty
“Is that the new Coach purse or something?” Lynox pointed to the diaper bag Deborah still had on her arm.
“Oh, oh, this.” She grabbed the diaper bag. Nervously she pushed it under her arm and behind her back so that he couldn’t see it, but he’d already seen it.
“Yeah, tha . . .” His words trailed off once he noticed the little fella sitting on the couch. “And that.” He pointed, stepped around Deborah without waiting for an invite inside her house, then walked over to the couch. He pointed at her son as if he was an alien. “Who’s this little guy?”
“He’s my son,” was what Deborah wanted to say. That’s all she had to say. That’s what she should have said. But that look on Lynox’s face, it was confusion, puzzlement, but behind it all was a look of fear.
Please don’t let this child be this woman’s baby. She could tell that those were his exact thoughts.
This is not how he was supposed to find out. Those were Deborah’s exact thoughts. She didn’t want to be found out. She wanted to tell the truth on her own. There was a difference. It would be the difference between her still having a chance with Lynox or not.
“He’s a little boy I babysit.” Did I just say that? Deborah couldn’t believe it herself, but yes, she’d just said that.
“Oh.” She watched—she heard—Lynox let out the hugest sigh of relief she’d ever heard. “Cute little kid.” He then looked at Deborah strangely. “But what’s he doing here? I thought we had a date.”
“We did.” Deborah nervously walked over to her son and picked him up off the couch. “I mean we do. It’s just that—”
“Mommy,” her son said, looking up at her.
“Mommy, yes, that’s right, his mommy hasn’t made it here to pick him up. She’s late. Soooo, uhhh, he had to stay late. His granny’s coming to pick him up instead. She should be here any minute.” All of Deborah’s nervous energy was only making her more nervous. But she was nervous. And worried. Worried and nervous. She didn’t know what she’d do if her son called her Mommy one more time. “Hey, uh, Lynox. You know, I hate to ask, but I uh, forgot to pick up the sparkling cider from the store. Would you mind . . .”
“Oh, well, not at all, I suppose. But I’m good. Water will work for me. Kool-Aid. Whatever you’ve got.”
“No, no, no!” Deborah yelled without realizing she was yelling. “Cider. I really wanted that cider. I . . . I . . . I can’t invite someone into my home and serve them water. Not you anyway. I know you’re used to the finer things in life. You drive a Hummer for Pete’s sake.”
“Which, by the way, I got back from the dealership. The door looks like n—”
“Oh, good, wonderful,” Deborah cut him off. She had to. It was a must that she hurried him out of there before her mother arrived. Getting a two-year-old to keep quiet was one thing, a grown-up woman was another. “Let me grab you a five from my purse.” Deborah walked over to her purse with her son still in her arms and began fumbling around with one arm in an attempt to retrieve the money. The next thing she knew, Lynox’s calm, gentle hand was on top of her shaky one. She looked up at him, almost squinting her eyes, praying to God inside that he wasn’t on to her or the situation.
“Relax. I know what’s going on here.”
“You do?” Deborah braced herself.
“Sure I do. I’ve dated other Christian women before. I’m a Christian too. I believe in God. Got saved when I was a kid and baptized. I kind of strayed away from the church, getting busy with life and all, but I still know who God is and His principles. Now, I can’t say that I’m a saint and have abided by them all . . .” He laughed. “But I get it. You’re a little nervous about being alone with me—on a date, with this much privacy—and where there’s a bed a few feet away. Which explains why you slammed the door in my face . . .”
Deborah was hoping he didn’t mention that.
“Got a little nervous, I understand.” Lynox put his hands up. “But don’t worry. It’s not that type of party. I’m certainly not trying to go there with you.” He chuckled.
Deborah’s face got all twisted up and contorted. Had he just offended her? Why wouldn’t he want to go there with her? She was an okay-looking woman. Had a little belly fat that she hadn’t been able to get rid of since having her son, but other than that, add another penny or two and she could be a dime.
“Oh, I didn’t mean it like that.” He had read the expression on Deborah’s face. “Of course I want to go there with you. What man wouldn’t? What I’m saying is that I won’t go there with you. I don’t want to mess up dating with mating. ’Cause I really like dating you, Deborah.”
Her heart melted into red cinnamon, chocolate, and marshmallow hearts. She stood in the sticky, icky, gooey puddle at her feet, mesmerized. “Lynox . . .” she cooed.
In an effort to avoid a mushy, romance-novel moment, Lynox pulled away from Deborah. “I better get to the store.” He turned toward the door.
“Yes, you better,” Deborah agreed, although inside she couldn’t have disagreed more. She wanted him to stay. She wanted them to talk more and date more, but first she wanted to tell him the truth about her being a mother. Then she wanted to continue dating. But she was scared. She did not want to lose this man. Just one more second with him, minute, hour. Just as much as she wanted to tell him, she didn’t want to tell him. Not knowing how he’d react was just frightening.
“And maybe by the time I get back”—he looked at her son—“this little one will be long gone. No offense”—he playfully started scratching his arm—“but kids give me the hives. Guess it’s all those little crumbs that I’m allergic to.” He winked at Deborah and smiled.
> She feigned a smile, but what she really wanted to do was burst out crying. Her lips trembled and her eyes moistened. She couldn’t stand feeling this way. It just felt all wrong. Yes, she wanted Lynox in her future, but if she couldn’t build their present on an honest foundation, how could things ever truly work out for them? They wouldn’t, she surmised, and that’s why she had to tell him. “Lynox!” she called out.
“Yes?” He turned toward her and just stared into her eyes.
Just say it. Just say it. Just say it, she ordered herself, then opened her mouth and said, “You forgot the money.” She couldn’t say it.
“Oh, don’t worry about it, pretty lady,” he replied. “I got you.” And then he left.
He left Deborah standing there now in a pile of deceit and lies. Oh, yeah—and with her son.
Chapter Twenty-one
“If I haven’t told you yet, I love what you’ve done with your hair,” Lynox complimented Deborah as they sat on the floor at her coffee table. Lynox had talked her into playing a game of backgammon.
“Thank you.” Deborah smiled and patted her hair. “I must say, I do miss my locks though. They were just so easy to manage, especially after having a . . .” Deborah almost said the word “baby.” She just almost slipped up and told him that she had a kid.
It wouldn’t have actually been a slip-up. After all, wasn’t that the reason she’d invited Lynox over in the first place? To tell him that she was a single mother? That she was one of those women on the prowl to find a husband for herself and a daddy for her child? Well, maybe that last assessment was taking things a little too far, but she knew that’s how Lynox would see things. But she needed to tell him. God, she needed to tell him, but she just couldn’t. Him showing up early had thrown everything off-kilter, and now, so would one more thing.
“After having a what?” Lynox urged Deborah to finish her sentence as he studied the board, being that it was his turn.
“After having had them for so long.” Deborah was quick on her feet. If she didn’t know how to do anything else in life these days, she certainly knew how to lie. She was living one. But she couldn’t help but question whether she’d always been living one.
“It’s your move,” Lynox told her.
Deborah rolled the dice and then began moving one of her chips.
“Hey, you can’t do that.” Lynox pointed down at the board. “You have to roll doubles first in order to be able to play.
Stunned, Deborah looked down at the board. Her thoughts had been so far off, she hadn’t even realized Lynox had put one of her men on board. “Oh. My bad.”
“You dang right it’s your bad,” Lynox joked, scooping the dice up off the board and placing them in his little shaker cup. “So you’re one of those people who make up their own rules in order to win, huh?”
Deborah broke down Lynox’s words. Was she that type of person? Even though the Bible told her that in the end the believers win, why was she still trying to play the game of life her own way? Why was she saying the heck with the big set of rules God wrote, she was going to make up her own and still pray to come out on top? Thing was, it had never worked thus far, so why did she think it would work now?
“I thought you said you were some good at this game,” Lynox shot off at Deborah. “Woman, I got another one of your men on board. If you keep playing the way you are playing, you are never going to win.” Lynox was talking smack. And Deborah was listening, dissecting every little thing he’d said.
He’s right, I’m never going to win. Not with the way I’m playing the game—the game of life, Deborah decided within her being. Living this lie was miserable. And no way would she be able to keep it up much longer. She had to do it. And the longer she kept her motherhood status from Lynox, the worse things would seem to him. She had to start letting God lead her. And that’s just what she planned on doing—right now.
“Lynox, there’s something I have to tell you, and you probably are going to think that I’m a big fat liar. But here it goes . . .” Deborah started before the ringing doorbell cut off her words. A puzzled look crossed her face.
Lynox raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I know that look. That’s the look you women make right after you tell a guy that it’s okay to come over. That don’t nobody know where you live. You just moved here. Then, lo and behold, the baby daddy shows up.” Lynox laughed.
Deborah playfully swatted at him. “You so crazy. I don’t have no baby daddy,” Deborah said as she stood. And at least that wasn’t a lie. Since Elton had died in that earthquake in Chile, technically, she didn’t have a baby daddy. But what she did have was a . . .
“Baby! You brought the baby back?” Deborah said, horrified, as she opened the door only to find her mother standing there with her son in her arms whining.
“You forgot to pack this boy’s Mr. Blankie. He is having a fit. Wouldn’t stop all that fussing,” Deborah’s mother said as she barged through the door.
Deborah looked down at her son and could tell he’d been crying. How could she have been so stupid as to not pack his Mr. Blankie?
“I tried calling, but I got no answer, on either the house phone or your cell.”
Deborah had turned the ringer off the house phone and put her cell on vibrate. It was her attempt to avoid that moment when just when she’s about to tell Lynox the truth, her phone rings. With just her luck that was exactly what would have happened. But now look what had happened. The doorbell had rung instead. If it weren’t for bad luck, she wouldn’t have any luck at all.
“Where’s it at? In his bed? I’ll get it.” Her mother started toward the baby’s room before she spotted Lynox sitting on the floor at the living room table. She stopped in her tracks and looked at him with wonderment.
Lynox stood to greet her. “Hello, ma’am, I’m Lynox.” He looked at the child he was now seeing for the second time today. “You must be the boy’s grandmother.” He looked at Deborah’s son and said, “You back, little man?”
“I am his grandmother.” Mrs. Lewis smiled as she looked from Lynox, to Deborah, then to Lynox again. “I see you know who I am, but I haven’t had the pleasure of hearing about you.” She turned and shot Deborah a snide look.
“Uhh, Mr. Blankie is in the crib. Go ahead and get it.” Deborah walked over and nearly pushed her mother out of the room. She then turned back around to Lynox, who had sat back down at the table without a second thought.
Deborah wanted to die. She wanted to die. She wanted to die. How come every time she was about to tell Lynox about her son, it never played out the way she wanted it to? This was crazy. It was driving her crazy. If the truth didn’t come out, she was going to lose her mind.
“Found it.” Her mother returned to the living room with Mr. Blankie in hand, and her grandson caressing a corner of it. “All should be well. Now we can leave you two to do whatever it was that you were doing.” Deborah’s mother winked at her.
“Okay. And sorry about forgetting to pack Mr. Blankie. See you guys later.” Deborah rushed them off.
“Nice meeting you, Mr. Lynox,” Mrs. Lewis shot over her shoulder at Lynox as Deborah escorted her out.
Finally getting her mother and son out of the door, Deborah closed it, turned around, leaned up against the door, and smiled at Lynox. “Now, where were we?”
Lynox thought for a moment. “You were saying that there was something you needed to tell me, and that I was going to think you were a big fat liar.” Lynox had a serious look on his face as he waited for Deborah to come clean.
With Deborah’s heart beating faster than she could ever remember, she opened her mouth and said the words, “I lied to you. I’m not good at backgammon at all.” Dang it! She’d done it again. Fear of the unknown outcome just would not let her spill it.
“I figured as much.” Lynox closed up the board, stood, and then walked over to Deborah. “But don’t worry, I have all the time in the world to teach you.” He ran his hands through Deborah’s hair, then rubbed her cheek with the back
of his hand. “You are something special, Miss Lewis.”
“I can say the same about you, Mr. Chase.” Deborah was falling deep into Lynox’s eyes as he put his arms around her and pulled her in close to him. The next thing she knew, Lynox’s lips were joining forces with hers. When he finally pulled away, she could barely stand; his kiss had been so exhilarating.
The kiss had swept her off her feet as she felt her feet no longer touching the floor. Then she realized that it was Lynox who had literally swept her off of her feet by lifting her in the air and carrying her over to the couch. He sat her down, then joined her and picked up where they’d left off in the kissing department. Then, just for a second, he pulled away long enough to say, “I’m going to marry you, Deborah Lewis, if it’s the last thing I do; watch and see. I’ve never met anyone like you—any woman who does to me what you do to me. You put my last name to good use and made me chase you. Well, now I’ve got you and I’m never letting you go—no matter what.”
Once again Deborah fell into Lynox’s kiss, forgetting about everything else in the world. Unfortunately, that included her son.
Chapter Twenty-two
“So who was the fella?” Deborah’s mother asked her. Mrs. Lewis couldn’t wait for Deborah to walk through that door so she could hit her with Twenty Questions.
“A guy I’ve known for a few years now. We lost touch for a minute there, but then I guess you could say we ran into each other a couple of weeks or so ago,” Deborah replied nonchalantly. She didn’t want to let on to her mother just how big a role Lynox played in her life. That was because, honestly, she didn’t know if he would just be making a cameo appearance or going out for the part of the leading man. Although they’d spent a lot of time talking and connecting, there were still so many things unsaid that needed to be said.
“He seemed like a decent fellow. And I see he’s been around Ganny Ban Banny’s baby. He knew who he was.”