Right Package, Wrong Baggage

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Right Package, Wrong Baggage Page 6

by Wanda B. Campbell


  “Micah, did you cook this yourself?”

  Micah shook his finger at her. “You ask too many questions.”

  Pamela didn’t say another word until she was done.

  “They say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, but I think that may be true for women also,” Pamela said after Matthew removed her dirty dishes. “Micah, that was delicious. Thank you.”

  “I hope you saved room for dessert. I have your favorite—chocolate cake with rum custard filling.”

  Pamela was full, but since Micah had taken the time and effort to cater to her, she wasn’t going to deny him the pleasure. Besides, she enjoyed the attention. “Okay, but just a little piece.”

  Pamela tried to help in the kitchen after finishing her cake, but Micah made her sit down on the couch while he and Matthew cleaned the kitchen and packed away the borrowed dishes. That’s when she noticed the bag from the Dead Fish. She softly laughed to herself; thinking the food tasted familiar. She didn’t mind that Micah hadn’t cooked it himself; it didn’t matter. Micah had done more for her in one day than any man ever had.

  “Good night, Mommy. I’m going to bed now. I already took my bath. I hope you had a happy Valentine’s Day.”

  Pamela hugged and kissed her little man. “I had the best Valentine’s Day ever.” She smiled and watched her son trot up the stairs and into his room. Matthew was turning into a replica of Micah. She turned back toward the kitchen to find Micah staring at her.

  “Did you mean what you said about this being your best Valentine’s Day?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “What about when you were married?”

  “Like I said, this is the best.” Pamela wanted to redirect the conversation away from the time she spent with Marlon Roberts. “I bet you’ve heard that a lot.”

  Her statement confused him. “I don’t understand.”

  They had never discussed his past relationships, but she figured this was as good a time as any.

  “Come on, Micah. You’re a caring and romantic man. I bet you’ve brought joy to more than a few women on this day and many other days as well.”

  “Is that what you think?” Micah asked, joining her on the couch. “You think I’m a player or used to be one?”

  Pamela raised her eyebrows. “Let’s just say, you know how to make a woman feel special, so special that she’d want to pay you with her gratitude.” Pamela held up two fingers on each hand to emphasize the quotation marks on the word gratitude.

  “And you think I’ve had my share of gratitude?”

  “I think you’re a man who definitely knows how to get next to a woman.”

  Micah laughed out loud, and Pamela thought she had him figured out. He took her hand in his, and after slowly bringing it to his lips, gently kissed it. “I’m flattered, but I have a newsflash for you, Ms. Pamela Roberts. You’re the first woman I have had a relationship with. Today is the first time I have celebrated Valentine’s Day.”

  Her head jerked forward. “Micah, are you trying to tell me you’re a virgin?”

  Micah exhaled a long slow breath. “That’s not what I’m saying. What I mean is I have never dated before. You’re the first.”

  Micah’s words were unimaginable to Pamela. “You are a twenty-eight-year-old attractive man. How can that be?”

  Micah rested against the back of the couch. “Sweetheart, you forget. I come from the home of an alcoholic parent. Like I said before, my mother would sometimes forget I was there. That meant there where days I went without food, and most of the time, clean clothing. Naturally, I got teased at school and didn’t have many friends. I couldn’t blame the other kids though. I mean, who would want to be around the smelly, dirty kid with the nappy afro?” Micah half smiled, but Pamela didn’t. Her heart ached for him. “Anyway, I didn’t have any social skills. If you ask me, I still don’t. The girls didn’t like me, and I wasn’t cool enough for the boys to hang out with, so I stayed to myself.”

  “What about after you became an adult?”

  Micah hesitated before answering. “That’s when my life took a downward turn. I got involved with reckless behavior and didn’t have time. Beside, my destructive behavior didn’t allow dating.”

  Pamela was curious. “How destructive are we talking?”

  “For now, let’s just say, I’ve done things that could have killed me. Thousands have done what I did and died, but God saw fit to spare me. For that I am so grateful. That’s why I praise God as hard as I do. I know I shouldn’t be here, and I wouldn’t be if it weren’t for His mercy.”

  “Me too.” Pamela nodded her head in agreement.

  Micah steered the conversation back. “Now, back to my original statement, you’re the only woman I’ve shared this day or any other special day with. So if I make you feel special, it’s because you are special, and I am designed to make you feel that way.”

  Pamela looked away with that statement. He was doing it again. First, he tells her son he’s going to marry her, and now he’s saying he was created for her. She had to redirect the conversation again. “What about your birthday? You do celebrate your birthday, don’t you?”

  “When my mother was sober enough to remember my birthday, she would bake me a cake, but I’ve never had a birthday party or anything like that. My aunt made dinner for me last year, but that’s as far as it goes for celebrations.”

  Pamela now felt bad she didn’t get him anything for Valentine’s Day. “Micah, I’m sorry, but I didn’t get you anything. To be honest, I didn’t know it was Valentine’s Day until you showed up this morning.”

  “I know, I could tell by your reaction. And that’s okay; the only thing I was looking forward to was your beautiful smile.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive. All I want is for you to be happy and not have to worry about anything.”

  Pamela’s breathing accelerated as the warm feeling in her chest returned. Their eyes locked, and she wondered if he were thinking the same thing she was. That he was right; he was the one created for her and her for him. That without him, there was no happiness. She felt her face moving toward his. “You’re doing a wonderful job. I am happy. Very happy,” she whispered before kissing him softly on the cheek.

  He smiled and welcomed her head against his chest, right above his heart. Listening to the rhythm, Pamela couldn’t decipher his heartbeat from her own, so she stopped trying. She awakened an hour later alone on the couch and covered with a blanket.

  Chapter 7

  “He’s here, Mommy, hurry!” Matthew called up the stairs for the third time.

  Pamela couldn’t recall a time she’d seen her son more excited about anything. It was Saturday, but Matthew had risen before dawn just to make sure he didn’t miss the big event: T-ball sign-ups. He’d marked off the days on his Sponge Bob calendar to make sure the day didn’t slip by him, and every day, he reminded Pamela of the number of days that remained.

  “I’m coming!” Pamela called back, and then continued styling her hair. Her morning would be spent in long lines and filling out a small mountain of paperwork. Still, she wanted to look good. Micah was coming with them.

  Pamela and Micah were nearing the end of the third month of their relationship, and in her opinion, things couldn’t be better. Pamela was in love, and she knew it. She hadn’t told him yet, but she loved Micah Stevenson, and she believed nothing would ever change that. Micah was permanently etched in her heart. He hadn’t shared his feelings with her either, but Pamela knew he felt the same. His actions showed it, like on the previous Saturday.

  Having worked ten-hour days at the title company all week, Pamela was exhausted. It seemed as though every family in the Bay Area was buying a house and using her title company to do so. That Saturday morning she slept in and prayed Matthew would let her rest until noon. That didn’t happen. Shortly after 10:00 A.M, the aroma of bacon and fried onions floated up the stairs and into her bedroom. Then the smoke detector blared. Pamela panick
ed and jumped out of bed and ran down the stairs, praying all the while that Matthew wasn’t burning down the house.

  “Matthew!” She stopped at the bottom of the staircase when she saw Micah standing at the stove cooking. Matthew was setting the table. “What’s going on?” she yelled over the piercing noise.

  After a brief glance, Micah turned his back to her. “Sorry if we scared you. We were trying to surprise you with breakfast,” he said after turning on the stove fan.

  “How did you get in?” Pamela was grateful the noise ceased and she didn’t have to yell over it.

  Matthew’s eyes bulged at the angry edge in his mother’s voice. “Mommy, I’m sorry. I opened the door. I thought it was okay because Micah is not a stranger.”

  Pamela softened at the sight of Matthew’s tears.“Matthew, go upstairs. I need to talk to Micah alone.”

  “Okay, Mommy.”

  Pamela waited until she heard her son’s bedroom door close before she attacked the gorgeous man with the long eyelashes wearing her apron.

  “Micah, what makes you think you can just barge into my house any time you want to?”

  Micah kept his back to her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “Then why didn’t you call?” When he didn’t answer, she yelled again. “Micah, turn around and talk to me!”

  “I will, just as soon as you put some clothes on or at least a robe.”

  Pamela looked down at her body and gasped. She wore a button-down nightshirt that barely covered her thighs. The top two buttons were undone, leaving her breasts nearly exposed. She ran back upstairs so fast that she missed a step and fell. Thankfully, she didn’t break or sprain anything. When she returned wearing fleece sweats, Micah was waiting at the bottom of the staircase. But before she could open her mouth to resume the argument, Micah opened his, making her regret her earlier tantrum.

  “Pamela, you’re right. I should have called, but that would have disturbed your sleep, and I knew you wanted to sleep in. You told me so last night. I wanted to make breakfast because I know you’re tired, and I wanted you to rest without having to worry about Matthew. After breakfast, I’m taking Matthew with me so you can have the day to yourself to do whatever you want.” He held out an envelope, and she cautiously accepted it.

  “If you choose to lie around all day, that’s fine. If you want to get your nails and feet done or even a massage, that’s fine too. There’s enough money in there for that.” He brushed her face with his fingertips. “Today, I don’t want you to worry about anyone or anything but yourself. Don’t even cook; I’ll bring dinner back this evening.”

  Micah’s deed had left her speechless. She’d never felt so special and as cherished as she did at that moment. Like the fog suddenly lifting from the Bay, Pamela accepted the fact that she was in love with Micah and he loved her in return.

  After apologizing, then allowing her men to serve her breakfast, Pamela spent the day alternating between sleeping and reading. Upon their return, they not only brought dinner back, but Micah had taken Matthew shopping and had gotten everything needed for T-ball, including a glove. Both of them sported new haircuts. After dinner, Micah and Matthew cleaned the kitchen while Pamela camped out on the couch. Her day was perfect thanks to Micah.

  Pamela now smiled at her reflection in the mirror. She was positive Micah loved her, but she wasn’t going to push him to share his feelings before he was ready. Pamela wanted him to make the decision that would drastically alter their lives without any nudging from her.

  “Mommy!”

  Now her son was getting on her nerves. “Coming!” she yelled back. She checked her makeup one last time, collected Matthew’s birth certificate and school photo, then floated down the stairs.

  ”Hey, sweetheart.” She greeted Micah with a light hug, and he returned her embrace with a smile.

  “Hey, beautiful. If we don’t want to stand in line all day, we’d better get going.”

  Pamela grabbed her jacket before Matthew bellowed lyrics to the mommy song again.

  During the ride to the field, the three of them were the epitome of family. Micah and Pamela sat in the front holding hands, and Matthew sat in the back asking the million dollar question of “Are we there yet?” The field was only ten minutes away, but Matthew’s constant pestering made the short journey feel like a cross-country road trip. At the stoplight, Micah slowly outlined Pamela’s face with his eyes. She was a beautiful woman, and she was his woman. Of that he was sure. He knew in his heart Pamela was the one he wanted to share his life with. He believed she felt the same but was afraid to push her. He wanted her to open up to him in her own time. That way, he would know her feelings were genuine. Then he would share his complete history with her and pray for the best.

  “Yes!” Pamela threw her fist in the air. Finally, the redundant paperwork and emergency information was completed. With Micah’s help, they were able to get Matthew registered in half the time. As she neared the front of one line, he’d stand in the next line. That was truly a blessing because there were so many parents trying to do the same thing as Pamela, make their son’s dreams come true. The only thing left to do now was pay the fees.

  “Micah, tell me how did baseball become your passion?” she asked while they waited in line.

  “Baseball was more of a lifesaver than a passion.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Micah placed his arm around her shoulder. “Remember my mother is an alcoholic. That meant I had a lot of free time to myself. On the weekends and sometimes on weeknights, I’d walk to old Comisky Park and watch the White Sox play through the fence. I’d come around so much the security guards knew me by name. Finally, they stopped shooing me away and allowed me to watch the game from the outfield and would even buy me food to eat.” Micah chuckled. “I guess they could tell I was hungry most of the time by the way I eyed their hot dogs. That went on until I started high school, then I went to work in the concession stands. Baseball kept me from hanging in the streets and selling drugs. I did steal a few times so I wouldn’t starve, but baseball gave me something to do, so I didn’t get into too much trouble. My best childhood memories were at the ballpark. That’s the main reason I coach baseball, to give kids who may not have anything else something positive to look forward to.”

  Pamela didn’t understand how a woman could neglect her child the way Helen Stevenson had. Pamela determined someone like that shouldn’t be blessed with the gift of motherhood. She would never put Matthew in harm’s way. No matter what, she would always keep her baby safe and protected, even at the cost of her own safety.

  “How is your relationship with your mother now?” Pamela asked him.

  “My mother and I have an understanding; I’m her son, and she’s an alcoholic. She loves me, I know, but her lifestyle won’t allow her to be a mother to me. There are some days, far and in between, when she’s sober and we have good conversations. Those are the times when she tells me she’s happy because I’ve made my life better than hers and warns me against the danger of drinking alcohol.”

  “What happened to your father?” Pamela noticed the blank stare on his face. “You don’t have to tell me if it’s too painful.”

  Micah continued. “I was around five years old when my father lost his job at the steel plant in Indiana. One night he and my mother had a big fight because there wasn’t any food in the house. My father stormed out and attempted to rob a liquor store. Unfortunately for my father, the elderly store owner kept a loaded .22 underneath the register.”

  Pamela blinked back tears. Micah’s story went from bad to worse. She was amazed that Micah shared his traumatic history without emotion. If he still had remaining scars, she couldn’t tell. Micah was a strong man; he had to be in order to overcome all those obstacles and still be sane. That’s the kind of man she wanted. He was what she and Matthew needed. He wouldn’t run when faced with difficulties. He wouldn’t leave her hiding behind the couch trying to dodge the landlord.


  “Is that the reason you’re so drawn to Matthew, because you know what it’s like to lose a parent?”

  “When my father died, I lost both of my parents. That’s when my mother started drinking. I’m drawn to Matthew because he’s a wonderful kid . . . and his mother is cute.” Micah winked, and she blushed. “Seriously, I love Matthew. I couldn’t love him more if he were my very own son.”

  Pamela believed that. Matthew loved Micah too. She felt it every time they were together. Watching the two of them, a stranger would have a hard time believing Matthew wasn’t his biological son. Micah spent so much time with Matthew that the two were beginning to look alike. They even sported the same haircut. Matthew imitated Micah to the point he’d started opening doors and pulling out chairs for Pamela. The first time he offered to pump her gas, Pamela was worried Matthew would spill the gas and waste her last twenty dollars until payday, but Matthew insisted. “Mommy, I got it. Micah showed me how to do it. He says this is what men do.”

  When Matthew asked Micah to accompany him to Back to School Night, Pamela couldn’t tell who was more proud, Matthew or Micah. The other day while collecting Matthew’s laundry, Pamela noticed he’d replaced the picture of his biological father he kept on his dresser with one she had taken of him and Micah together. She found his father’s picture tucked away in his sock drawer. She began to wonder why she still kept the urn that contained her late husband’s ashes on her own dresser.

  Finally, they reached the front of the line. Pamela asked the volunteer how much she owed for the league and was informed that the fees for Matthew Roberts were already paid. All they needed from her was the paperwork.

  Pamela smiled at Micah. “When did you sign him up?”

  “When I came to the coaches’ training last weekend.”

 

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