The Outside Child

by Tiffany L. Warren

  “Yes, he likes lizards, too.”

  “Well, I’m looking forward to the party. My son has been blessed to make it this far.”

  Brayden wouldn’t know what Quincy likes. He doesn’t know his favorite book or his favorite t-shirt. He’s here, but Quincy and I are secondary right now. The surgeries are over, and we’re just the Dallas Knight MVP’s backstory.

  So I’m about to write my own story where I’m the lead. This Klein Newton fashion show is just the opportunity to make it happen.

  Chapter 38

  It was almost the perfect day for a birthday party. The sun was blazing and the few clouds in the sky looked like they were placed there by a perfect outdoor set designer. The only thing that took away from the beauty of the day was the stifling Texas heat. Brayden wiped beads of sweat off his brow as he moved one of the outdoor tables to a different spot at Chenille’s request.

  “Is this how you want it?” he asked.

  She cocked her head to one side and frowned. “I think it’s still crooked.”

  Brayden mumbled curses under his breath as he looked around for one of the hired staff that was supposed to be on hand to do this type of thing.

  “You’re trying to have me smelling like a bag of onions by the time the guests arrive,” Brayden said as he dragged the table to the left.

  Brayden didn’t know why Chenille was stressing so hard over this party anyway. It was a children’s party. Their son’s first time having a birthday party, yes, but it was for a bunch of kids.

  “Here comes your mother,” Chenille said.

  Brayden looked up as Marilyn crossed the back lawn and stepped onto the patio.

  “Why is it so hot in here?” Marilyn asked.

  “Hello, Mama,” Brayden said as he gave his mother a small hug.

  “You smell like manual labor. Chenille, I thought we were going to have the patio doors closed and the air-conditioning on in here.”

  “We will,” Chenille said. “As soon as we finish loading in all of the equipment.”

  Marilyn nodded. “The table linens look nice, don’t they? Aren’t you glad we didn’t go with the plastic?”

  “I’m sure it wouldn’t have made much of a difference for me,” Chenille said.

  “I’ll be glad when you can admit that there are some things I’m right about, daughter-in-law.”

  “After you, mother-in-law.”

  Chenille then turned her attention back to Brayden. “Thanks, babe. The table is fine. I’m going to go and check on the catering. I think they’re about to start setting up.”

  Brayden watched Chenille as she waved at the chef. He still enjoyed watching her walk away. He gazed after her for a few moments, noticing the deep sway of her hips that had become even deeper after she’d had Quincy. Child-bearing hips. But not children-bearing hips. She wouldn’t hear a word about having another baby.

  “Where is my grandson?” Marilyn asked.

  “He’s inside, Mama. We don’t want him to see everything. He’s already excited, though.”

  “Today is his day. He should feel like a little king.”

  Watching his mother spoil Quincy was like Brayden reliving his childhood. His mother might’ve been meddling and nosy, but no one could ever say that she didn’t always want the best for him. Now that same caring and consideration was extended to Quincy. Brayden was grateful.

  “I’m going to go indoors and see my little man until there is air-conditioning on in here.”

  Brayden’s cell phone buzzed in his pocket. It was Coach Wyatt.

  “Coach.”

  “Brayden. Chenille got you over there blowing up balloons and hanging piñatas?”

  Brayden chuckled. “Not yet. She just made me move a table, though.”

  “Did you let her know about the camera crew?”

  Brayden winced and groaned. He’d forgotten to tell Chenille that ESPN wanted to send cameras here to get footage on Quincy’s birthday. They were interested in doing a mini–reality show on their family and how they’d overcome the challenges with Quincy’s birth and heart disease.

  “You didn’t tell her.”

  “I forgot. I don’t think she’ll mind, though. She’s in a great mood, and she’s turned our entire backyard into a zoo carnival or something.”

  “Just tell her she can plug Chenille’s Party Planning on film. She’ll be okay with it then.”

  Coach Wyatt laughed at his joke, but Brayden didn’t join in. It wasn’t a secret to anyone in their circle how obsessed Chenille was with being known as a successful businesswoman. The Dallas Knights Wives Club had invited her to help run fund-raisers and host charity events, and she didn’t want any part of it. Brayden was almost embarrassed by it, but he couldn’t complain. Chenille’s ambition had always been one of the most attractive things about her.

  “It’s too late to tell her now. I’ll just deal with the fallout later,” Brayden said.

  “I wouldn’t even want to be a fly on the wall for that beat-down she’s gonna serve you.”

  “I’ve got my ways, Coach. She can’t resist me when I turn on the charm. And I’ll hold the baby while I tell her. She’s got an even softer spot for Quincy.”

  “We all do. Julie and I will be there in about an hour.”

  “Okay, see you then.”

  Brayden thought an hour was just enough time for him to butter Chenille up before the ESPN cameras arrived. He walked over to the chef’s station where they’d set up a temperature-controlled tent and the start of a buffet.

  “So, we’re going to be able to put these cupcakes out and they won’t melt? That’s what you’re telling me?” Chenille asked.

  “We’re going to put the frosting on them closer to the time the party starts. We made it with shortening instead of butter,” the chef said.

  “What? The frosting? We’re serving Jack and Jill and the NFL Crisco frosting?”

  “It’ll be fine. They won’t know the difference.”

  “Promise?”

  “I promise, Mrs. Carpenter. No one is going to complain about the cupcakes.”

  “Can I borrow my wife for a moment?” Brayden asked.

  Chenille spun around and Brayden snuck a kiss on her lips. She lifted a mischievous eyebrow, and shook her head.

  “You can do more than borrow her, Mr. Carpenter,” the chef said. “Please take her off our hands so we can finish setting up.”

  Brayden burst out laughing, and Chenille narrowed her eyes and glared.

  “I’m in your way?” Chenille asked.

  The chef nodded. “Yes, Mrs. Carpenter. You are in our way.”

  Brayden pulled Chenille out of the chef’s tent and toward the house. She pretended not to be coming willingly, but the grin on her face said otherwise.

  “Well, babe, there is something I had wanted to show you inside,” Brayden said. “It’s of an urgent nature.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “Yes, it’s quite urgent.”

  “Well, your son’s party is about to start soon,” Chenille said with a playful lilt in her tone.

  “That is more than enough time for us to handle this particular business.”

  “You’re nasty.”

  “That’s why you married me.”

  Chenille laughed. “That is not why I married you. That was just an extra benefit.”

  “Well, I want to be beneficial to you right now, my sweet goddess.”

  “This better not take more than an hour, Brayden.”

  Brayden still got excited when he was about to see his wife in all her ebony glory. Giving birth had done nothing but enhance her sexiness. The extra curves that she had developed post-pregnancy drove him to the brink of madness.

  He continued to pull Chenille into the house, but now she came willingly.

  Until they got inside the house, and the camera crew had already arrived.

  “What the hell is this?” Chenille asked.

  Brayden looked around the room to see who’d let them in.
Of course, his mama. She was already in the makeup chair getting prepped by the makeup artist.

  “We’re the camera crew from ESPN, ma’am.”

  “I mean, I can clearly see who you are. There are big cameras that say ESPN on the side of them, so that makes sense. My question is why are you here today?”

  “Babe,” Brayden said.

  “This you, Brayden? Do you have an interview today? You working on the day of our son’s birthday party?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Well, someone needs to tell me what’s going on here.”

  Marilyn shook her head. “You’re causing a scene.”

  “I will cause whatever I want to cause in my own house.”

  Brayden took Chenille’s hand, and she snatched it away. He sighed.

  “Can we go and talk in the study?” Brayden asked in a calm tone.

  Chenille’s nostrils flared, but she didn’t say anything else. She led the way into the study. Brayden followed her inside and closed the door behind himself.

  “What the hell, Brayden?”

  “Lower your voice.”

  “Don’t tell me to lower my voice. Tell me why an ESPN camera crew is here on my son’s birthday.”

  “Coach Wyatt . . .”

  “Oh, so this is on Coach Wyatt. This was his idea?”

  “Can you let me finish?”

  Chenille rolled her eyes. “Finish.”

  “ESPN had reached out to Coach Wyatt about doing a mini–reality show on some of the team members and their challenges. You know, to kind of personalize us to the fans.”

  “And you invited them to Quincy’s birthday party?”

  “We’re inviting our fans to celebrate that our baby is healthy. They’ve been with us the whole way, Chenille. We’ve got fans that have been praying for our son since before he was born.”

  “Only because you got on TV and told everyone our business.”

  “I am a public figure, Chenille.”

  “Only because you want to be. I don’t see a lot of your teammates posted up on TV like you. They play the games, go to practice, and go home to their families. You always want to bring the fans home with you.”

  “What is the issue, Chenille? Like what is really the problem?”

  “This is our celebration. With our friends and family. Yo mama’s friends and family.”

  “They won’t encroach on our fun, I promise.”

  Chenille sighed and shook her head. “Why didn’t you tell me about it? Why do I always have to be surprised about stuff? Why can’t you respect me enough to do that?”

  “I do respect you.”

  “No. You love me. You don’t respect me. You don’t care about what I think about things, especially when it comes to football. When it’s about the NFL, I don’t have a voice.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “It is true. Listen, let me go nurse Quincy, and then I’m gonna get dressed.”

  “You don’t have to nurse him right now. We were gonna spend some time together, I thought.”

  Chenille scoffed. “Really, Brayden? Just go. Go and film for your fans.”

  Brayden wished he hadn’t forgotten to mention the camera crew to Chenille, but now he wished even more that he’d turned down the request to do it in the first place. She didn’t understand that sometimes he also felt like he didn’t have a choice in the matter.

  Brayden would handle Chenille later, after they celebrated their son. It was Quincy’s day, and Brayden was going to make sure it was unforgettable.

  Chapter 39

  “You look cute,” Kara says as I put the finishing touches on my makeup for Quincy’s birthday party.

  “Had to put on more than I typically would for a children’s birthday party.”

  “’Cause of the cameras downstairs?” Kara asks. “I was wondering about that.”

  “You know how Brayden turns everything into a Dallas Knights moment. I was just hoping today could be about my baby and not about his career.”

  “I saw little man when I came in with his little seersucker shorts on. I just love my godson.”

  “Mmm-hmmm, but you don’t come through when I need a babysitter.”

  Kara clicked her tongue and flipped her blond wig. “Chile, y’all got too many rules and too many schedules. I can’t keep up with all of that.”

  She’s right. Watching Quincy for even a few hours is drama for someone unfamiliar with his routine. That’s why I limit who keeps him to Lisa and my mother. Shoot, Brayden doesn’t even know what time to administer Quincy’s medication.

  There’s a knock on the bedroom door, and Kara jumps up to answer it. Lisa brings Quincy in.

  “I wanna see the animals, Mama,” Quincy says.

  “Animals? What animals?”

  I scoop my baby up in my arms and kiss him. His light blue-and-white shorts match my light blue sundress.

  “Grandma says a pony!”

  “She did? Grandma sure likes to say things, doesn’t she?”

  Kara giggles into her hands, and Lisa struggles to hold in her laughter. I can’t believe Marilyn ruined the surprise for Quincy. Why in the hell would she tell him about the pony?

  “Well, I don’t know about a pony, but I bet there’s birthday cake.”

  “Cake.”

  “Because it’s someone’s birthday.”

  Quincy giggles. “It’s my birthday.”

  “It is, big boy. How old are you?”

  “I’m two!” Quincy points to himself as if there is another toddler in the room with a birthday.

  “Let’s go downstairs with Auntie Kara and Ms. Lisa and see what else we can find outside.”

  It is time for us to make our entrance, so I wait for Brayden to come out of his study. I took his clothes to him so I could get dressed in peace, without him trying to apologize for the camera crew or trying to get me to have sex with him.

  “Lisa, can you go knock on the door to the study, to let Brayden know we’re ready to go outside and greet our guests.”

  After a few moments, Brayden emerges from his study with a contrite look on his face. I don’t care how sorry he looks. I’m still mad as hell, and that feeling isn’t going anywhere for a while.

  He does look nice in his white linen pants and his light blue shirt that matches the shade of my dress perfectly.

  “You look beautiful,” Brayden says.

  “Thank you.”

  “You gonna smile at the people or mean mug them?” Brayden asks. “’Cause right now you look like you might cuss the guests out.”

  “I’m gonna cuss your mama out.”

  Brayden laughs. I don’t know why he’s laughing. I know I don’t look like I have good humor on my face.

  “Why? What did she do? She’s out there being the perfect grandmother hostess. Your mother is just sitting there sipping iced tea.”

  I lift my eyebrows damn near close to my hairline. “That’s all my mama gotta do. That’s all I asked her to do.”

  “I’m just saying. What are you mad at my mama for this time? All she’s doing is helping us put on this party.”

  “And ruining the surprise for my baby.”

  “Grandma said it’s a pony,” Quincy whispers to Brayden like the rest of us can’t hear him.

  Brayden shakes his head. “That’s not a big deal, babe. Come on. Let’s not be mad the rest of the afternoon. Let’s have fun.”

  “Let’s look perfect for the cameras, right?”

  “We don’t have to look perfect. We just have to be the happy family that we are.”

  I don’t react to this, but I do take Brayden’s extended arm as he guides me out the kitchen entrance of our house. We walk down the cobbled path to the patio and pool area. Not even a breeze disrupts this oppressive heat. We should’ve had a pool party, because right now, I feel like stripping off my dress and jumping right in the crystal clear, blue, cool water.

  When we approach the patio, someone gives the DJ the signal that we’re arrivin
g. He cuts the music.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” the DJ says, “please make way for the man of the hour, the birthday boy, Mr. Quincy Byron Carpenter!”

  Everyone stands and gives a round of applause as we step into the room. Quincy’s eyes are wide, and his little mouth is in the shape of an “o.” I think he realizes that all of this is for him, that everyone is clapping for him.

  One of the party staff runs up and puts a little party hat on Quincy’s head. She also slips a little candy ring on his finger.

  “Mama, can I eat it?”

  “Yes, baby.”

  And then Quincy gasps with excitement, because off in the distance he sees the pony and the goat.

  “A pony!”

  He squirms to get out of my arms, and Lisa is right there ready to take him out to the other children and the zoo friends.

  I wish I was going with him, but I’ve got to entertain the socialites and the cameras. Coach Wyatt waves to me and Brayden, so I guess that means we’re going to eat at the table with them.

  “Guests, please direct your children to go with our friendly staff in the red shirts. They’re going to be taken through the petting zoo, and to their dining area, which is adjacent to this patio in the tent with the red top,” the DJ announces.

  Brayden leads me to the table where Coach Wyatt has gotten up. He extends his arms like he wants to hug me, so I play the role. I put on a big fake smile and walk into his waiting arms.

  “I swear, Chenille, you look prettier and prettier every time I see you.”

  Julie, Coach Wyatt’s wife, blows me a kiss. “She does get more gorgeous. That’s what they call black girl magic these days. You’ve certainly got a healthy helping of it. Come and sit.”

  I graciously go and sit next to Julie, but I’m irritated by the cameras that aren’t even a little bit inconspicuous. They’re just out in the middle of the floor like they have invisible equipment or something. No. We all see you, and it’s taking away from the aesthetic of the party.

  “So, I was thinking, since the season is starting again,” Julie says, “that we could start doing some girls’ outings. Like wouldn’t it be fun to do a wives’ trip when they do an away game?”

  I give her a fake smile. I hope it looks real on the camera. Wait, no, I don’t. I don’t care how it looks.