"Lord knows I gave it my all
I couldn't save us from falling
Cause some people aren't meant to be together forever forever

'Cause forever, doesn't last too long forever
Doesn't last too long forever
Doesn't last too long forever these days
And I try to believe that we could make it
But trying don't work, so I just have to face that forever
Doesn't last too long forever these days…"

Jazmine Sullivan- "Forever Don't Last"

He couldn't take it.

N'Jobu and Califia took a taxi together to the Sáo Paulo airport alone when it was time for him to return to the states. The night before he had made love to Califia, and that morning they had a lovely breakfast with Soleil, Lia, and Bakari out on the patio. Things were going well until they approached the airport and Califia began bawling uncontrollably.

He held her in his arms and felt his throat constrict and his own eyes waver with tears, but he held it together as they arrived at the terminal. When he dropped off his luggage and they had a few minutes to spare before he had to board, he realized at that moment that he would not be able to leave her again in Oakland like this. He was going to have to slip away from her. The pain on her face and the anguish heaving from her chest crushed his spirit.

He found an empty seat and literally cradled her like a baby in his lap, cooing to her, trying to kiss away her tears.

"Califia, I don't want you to be like this when I leave. I'll see you in two days."

Her breathing calmed and she wiped her eyes with her hands. Her face, nose, and eyes were red, and her cheeks were damp. He stroked her chin.

"We still have time left together," he said rocking her on his lap.

"I don't want to see you go," she stammered.

"Let's do this. You go to the bathroom and wipe your face with water, and I'll just go, and we won't have to say goodbye. It'll be more like, 'See you soon'. How about that?"

She swiped her hands across her eyes again and nodded her head.

"Give me a kiss," he said.

She sat up in his lap and pressed her lips to his. Her softness and the damp tears on her face unnerved him. His tongue probed her mouth and she held onto his neck. He pulled back from her.

"Go to the Ladies room. I'll see you in two days," he said.

She slipped down from his lap and he watched her walk to the nearest restroom. He made swift work of his legs to get through the checkpoint without looking back.

When he was in a section she couldn't get to and one where she couldn't see him, he felt his chest ache.

"Bast, give me strength," he said clutching his passport.

His flight into Oakland was uneventful, and his Lyft ride to the apartment was quiet. When he stepped into the unit, it was all so clear how he was already gone from the space. The apartment looked sterile, more like a bland motel space without his books and art and personal touches. He texted Califia to let her know he made it back safe.

The next two days were spent writing and sketching in his journal, coming to terms with his final departure and readying his spirit for all the work that stood before him back home. T'Chaka sent messages on his kimoyo beads that he was to meet with the current Ambassador of Wakanda to begin a short internship right before his military service. His new military uniform was already in his suite waiting for him in the palace. His mother sent him new pictures of T'Challa, and Zinzi was ready for his return.

N'Jobu spent time jogging, and a few hours soaking in the apartment jacuzzi. He tried to keep his mind off Califia, but no matter how hard he tried, his thoughts drifted to her. There were already videos up on the net showing the baptisado, and he re-watched her with Axiel.

When her flight was due back, he took a long nap to prepare for her return home.

###

Her arrival down the escalator in the Oakland airport was much different than when she first went to meet N'Jobu after his return from Wakanda.

She saw N'Jobu standing at the bottom waiting for her, a huge grin on his face and a large bouquet of flowers in his hand. Gardenias.

She jumped on him and he carried her to the luggage carousel.

"I missed you so much," she said peppering his face with kisses and cheek rubbings.

"Welcome back," he said, holding her tight.

He grabbed her bag for her when it came around the carousel and they rode the BART home. She told him about sparing with Axiel, and spending time with Soliel trying to come up with a name for their future sister community centers.

When they reached the apartment, Califia was pleasantly surprised to see that N'Jobu had filled the apartment with candles and made her a romantic dinner. He lit the candles and turned off the lights, and it felt like they were back in Sáo Paulo on the rooftop patio.

He had cooked her short ribs with garlic mashed potatoes and fresh sautéed spinach. He mixed pomegranate martinis and spoiled her with chocolate truffles for dessert.

She fell asleep after dinner, but when she woke up in the morning he gave her a foot massage, rubbing her heels, her soles, and her calves with peppermint oil. He checked her thigh and did see a fading bruise from where Axiel knocked her down.

"The next time I see him, I'm punching him," N'Jobu said, stroking her legs, helping the circulation from her long flight.

They went running together after breakfast, then shared a long casual walk home where they didn't talk, just held hands and took in the scenery of the neighborhood.

Their time together was now soft, words spoken in quiet tones, more time spent looking into one another's eyes rather than long conversations as in the past.

They thought about having a going away party for him, but Califia decided that she didn't want to share him. Only their closest friends knew he had to return home, and they all had said their goodbyes by then.

Califia had N'Jobu spend one last dinner with her grandmother, Junie, and Bakari over at the house.

Nana cooked creole fried shrimp and a big pot of gumbo with saltwater cornbread, and they sat in her kitchen stuffing their faces and drinking rum and cokes. When Nana went to sleep, they broke out the Hennessey and weed. N'Jobu still just passed the weed without partaking. Square.

N'Jobu worked hard finishing up his summer session. He was able to get the university to set up online classes to finish his final year at home. His last weeks were spent testing and then pleasuring her.

The day before he was to go home they sat in the apartment all day watching old Black seventies movies and snacking on finger foods. He ate that disgusting ice cream he liked too. His bags were by the front door. The flight home was late afternoon the next day.

They were watching the final scene of one of Califia's favorite 70s flicks. A family drama called "Claudine". From a purely cultural anthropology standpoint, N'Jobu found the hair, clothes, and music fascinating. The final scene showed a Black family running to hop onto a police paddy wagon in the middle of a wedding and an activist protest.

"What is it about this movie that you like so much?" he asked her when it was over.

"It just reminds of my maternal grandmother. She was married twice and had kids by two different men, and raised all her kids as a single parent until my Granpa Torry came along and they made this amazing blended family. I imagine that they went through this type of drama trying to come together. It just makes me happy to see a family make it work despite the odds. It's just a classic."

"And 'Superfly'?"

"That's strictly music and fashion. One of my Dad's favorites. I watch them both and it just reminds me of when my family was together."

He held her hand and she ran her fingers along his thumb and index finger as they lay curled up on the couch together. Her eyes seemed to study every groove, fingertip, and nail on his hand. She interlaced her fingers in his and held his hand tight. He nuzzled his face into her neck and breathed in the scent of her hair balm, and the faint aroma of lavender soap on her skin. The credits on the film rolled and when they were over, they stayed still on the couch, listening to the sound of each other's breathing.

He could tell she was trying to keep it together.

"I would like to see that movie with the Black women in New Orleans again," he said. It would be good to watch something where they could laugh and keep the mood light.

She found the film on their DVR and as they watched it, N'Jobu kept touching her hair, stroking the back of her neck with his fingers and kissing her cheek. The moment he nuzzled her ear, she turned to face him on the couch and threw her arms around his neck. He pulled her in tight and the kisses he gave her were delicate as if he were discovering her lips for the very first time again. And like that first time, she gave him complete control of the pace. Twice he had to stop and take deep breaths because kissing her made him feel light-headed like he was being swept into a riptide of intense pleasure. Kissing was always a means to an end with his other relationships, but with Califia, it could become the main event, and on his last night with her, he had to make it into a Rosetta stone to last his lifetime.

Every inch of her lips and tongue he held onto. The taste of her. The soft humming in her throat. How she touched the sensitive skin on the back of his neck with her nails he committed to eternal memory. She had his blood thrumming in his veins. The sunburst of her hair called to him and his fingers found their way to her tresses. He pulled back on her hair so that her neck was accessible to him, and he was soon licking and sucking on her shoulder, his finger reaching up to feel on her breasts.

He heard her gasp when his fingers twisted each of her nipples through her top. He couldn't wait for her, so he pulled off her shirt, and the velour shorts she wore.

She wore the sexiest lingerie she could find and N'Jobu seemed happy to see the sheer purple bra and pantie set. She wore his beads.

Seeing the beads, he traced his fingers around them and then stared down at her panties. He could see his ring on her. He touched it through the panties and felt her sigh into his ear, her legs falling open for him. She looked down to watch his index finger trace around her clit. Her eyes took on a heavy look of arousal and he could already hear himself panting as he touched her.

He unfastened his jeans and slid his boxers down. He wanted her to see his own arousal unfurl before her. Let her see for one last time how she could make him be ready for her without any hesitation. Just looking at her through sheer panties was enough to set him off.

He stroked his length slowly for her, watched it raise up and thicken until he was gripping the head with his fingers. His tip was already leaking with his own natural lubricant, and his breath quickened as he saw her panties begin to stick in her folds. He groaned and tugged on his dick harder, letting her see how weak he could get because of her. Hard, slick, and weak for her body.

"Look what you're doing to me," he moaned, squeezing the head, wiping the dripping pre-cum onto her panties, making them damp and even more sticky.

He yanked her panties off and her fingers went to her labia and opened herself up for him.

"You nasty girl, goddamit," he blurted, twisting his fingers around his frenulum and staring at her pussy.

When he couldn't take it anymore, he picked her up and carried her to their bedroom.

###

They had a rousing spanking session on the bed, her body draped across his knees, his belt striking her with the perfect control that he had.

When he had her creaming, he made her get on her hands and knees facing the closet mirror on the bed. He eased behind her, coating his dick with lubricant, then pushed inside of her, holding her ass cheeks wide open.

He watched her face as he thrust into her. She felt so much love for him, throwing her ass back on him, keeping direct eye contact with him, drinking in every detail of his body and his face. He fucked her hard and fast, his hands gripping her shoulders, reminding her of what made him so exciting in bed. She knew they would have a couple of more trysts before he left, so she indulged him with this quickie. All was well until she gasped out,

"This will always be your pussy, baby."

He stopped thrusting into her, his eyes seeking hers in the mirror. His eyelids shut and he pulled out of her.

"What's wrong…?" she said.

He pulled her up further on the bed and pushed her onto her back. His lips found her lips and his kisses were butter soft, his tongue gentle and tasting of licorice. He threw her legs over his arms and pressed into her, watching her face.

"I know you'll fuck other people, Califia," he said, his thick shaft spreading her open.

"Jobu…," she said, worried that she had hurt his feelings.

He looked down at her clit piercing and his face went slack, his lips parting, his eyes narrow with lust as his seed jewel became coated with her slick.

"Don't forget me…Califia…don't forget me…"

His head dropped into her neck and his body smashed into hers.

"Baby…," she panted, holding him tight, her fingers clutching his back and scalp, her legs wrapped tightly around him. He slowed down and dragged his dick in and out of her, tugging on her clit, her ring touching his shaft. He was so painfully, exquisitely slow and deliberate. This shit right here was why bitches clung to him, she thought as she heard her voice begging him to make her cum hard on his dick.

"Not yet, baby," he whispered rotating his hips and hitting a new spot on her walls.

She groaned so loud that he lifted his head up to look in her face, still moving slowly inside of her.

"Jobu," she whimpered, and she saw him squeeze his eyes shut.

"Make me cum!" she screamed.

"Not yet," he said, shifting his stroke direction.

"Jobu!" she yelled at him, squeezing her thighs tighter around him.

"Let Daddy have this," he whispered, torturing her pussy.

They were both sweating profusely, she could feel drops plopping from his face onto hers. The wet sloppy sounds coming from between her legs had her pointing her toes straight up into the air now.

"I don't want you giving my pussy away," he grunted, barely able to hold onto his control, "you belong on my dick…this dick right here…shit…"

She reached up and scraped her nails gently onto his neck and scalp.

"This pussy will always be yours, no matter what…no matter what…I love you…Jobu…I'll only love you—" she said.

She felt his back spasm and he pushed into her further, his cock swelling, spilling his seed deep inside of her.
"Always yours…always yours…only yours…" she whispered in his ear as he gave his all to her for one last time.

###

He made sure she was in a deep sleep before he put everything into place.

The Dora Milaje had retrieved his luggage and placed it in the BMW for him and waited outside the apartment.

He left a letter with the cashier's check on the bedside nightstand near the clock. He spent the last few moments in the apartment watching her sleep.

This was how he wanted to remember her. Satisfied, sleeping soundly because he had rocked her to sleep the right way. She had his ring, his beads, and a Border Tribe blanket was covering her spent body. His beloved. His woman.

He wanted to reach out and stroke her hair, but he was afraid she would wake up. She was so attuned to his touch. He hoped she would remember this night as something special and divine and as precious as he would keep it in his heart. He hoped she would forgive him for leaving her this way. No goodbyes. Just the memory of their lovemaking.

He stepped away from the bed and walked out of the apartment with Yejide and Ometeko following him once he was down the stairs.

They said nothing and probably had no idea there was a woman in the bedroom.

When he walked past Califia's bike in the carport, he felt a dam breaking inside of him, but he quickly shoved the image out of his mind.

Sitting in the back of the BMV, on his way to the airport to keep the façade of his being a regular foreign student going home, he felt a small wave of tears brimming along his eyes. He ignored it. Pushed it deep down. Locked it away for good. That N'Jobu was no more. He was now Prince N'Jobu Udaku again. That woman behind him, the one who would wake up in a few hours alone, she was the past.

He handed his American cell phone to Yejide and she pulled it apart destroying it. His computer would be disposed of before they reached the airport.

He watched his neighborhood streak by him through the window.

America was no more.

She was no more.

"Prince N'Jobu?" Ometeko said, looking back at him from the front seat.

He leaned his head against the window, eyes squeezed shut, and his hands balled into fists.

"Your Highness, are you alright?" Ometeko whispered, reaching back her hand to touch him.

"Ometeko, no. Leave him be," Yejide said.

The first of many tears rolled down N'Jobu's face.

###

She smelled caramel cappuccino.

Stretching in the covers, Califia yawned, then stepped off the bed and padded barefoot and naked into the kitchen. The bathroom door was closed, so she thought he was using the restroom. She drank the fresh brew he pre-programmed for her and waited at the kitchen table for him to come out. But after a few minutes, when there was no sound of movement at all, she went to the bathroom door and knocked.

No answer.

Opening the door, she saw that it was empty. She ran to the living room.

His bags were gone.

Stomach churning in fear, she ran to the balcony and flung open the sliding door and screen door, her eyes searching the carport.

His car was gone.

She felt a wailing moan bubbling up in her throat as she ran back into the bedroom to get her cell phone.

"The number you have reached is no longer in service…"

"No…no…no…nooo," she whimpered, throwing on her clothes. She checked the time. It was nine in the morning.

Maybe he went to get food. He did that sometimes. Ran out to get muffins or bagels for her. Her hands were shaking. That had to be it. He was going to get them breakfast. His flight wasn't until three…

She glanced at the clock on the nightstand again. An envelope. Her name on it. His careful delicate script. Califia Stevens.

She grabbed the envelope and fumbled with tearing it open.

Inside was a handwritten letter and….a check.

She looked at the dollar amount. Twenty-nine-thousand dollars.

The letter. She took a deep breath. He was gone. He wasn't coming back. Hold on. Just hold on. Breathe.

She unfolded the letter all the way open.

"My Love,

Forgive me.

By the time you read this, I will already be in the air flying home.

I know you expected us to drive to the airport together and to say goodbye there.

I could not do it. I am sorry. I am a coward. Leaving you in Brazil was too painful, and I could not go through that again. I want you to remember us in this bed together. All the mornings and nights I have held you in this room, on our bed…that is how I want to remember my last time with you. The place where we made love, shared love, and spoke of love.

There are no words I could write that can ease the pain I know that you feel right now. I am still a selfish person. I only thought of the way I wanted to see us part. I will own that. You can hate me for that, but I will own that choice.

I have never met anyone like you, and never will again. I will hold you in my heart until I am no more on this earth. You are, and always will be, the greatest joy I have had in my life.

My beloved, go out into the world and move mountains. Know that I will be the wind at your side when you need to fly, the whisper that encourages you when you are ever in doubt, and the comfort that surrounds you when you think all is lost. I love you. Only you. You are my Oyá/Iansã, forever and always…

N'Jobu

She fell to the floor clutching the letter to her chest.

###

"A.J.! Brandon!"

Califia stalked out from her uncle's front porch slamming the screen door behind her as she searched for her two rusty butt brothers. Correction, half-brothers, because she was not going to claim that the problematic DNA inside them came from her mother. That was all their father.

Califia's cousin Kenny was out front turning the spit on the whole roasted pig that was grilling to a greasy and succulent tenderness inside the large barbecue drum that doubled as a smoker.

She could already hear Nana fussing with the boys when she finally found them around back pestering their mother, Melissa.

"Mom! Make them get in the bathroom and clean up the toilet!"

"What?" Melissa said, stroking the forehead of the older boy A.J.

"One of them peed on the toilet seat and didn't clean up after themselves. Ole nasty ass—"

"Cali—" Melissa hissed.

"They are so nasty."

Melissa looked at Brandon.

"Was it you?" Melissa said.

"Maybe…" Brandon said in a sing-song fashion.

Califia grabbed him by his arm and marched him back into the house and straight to the guest bathroom.

"Here!" Califia said handing him lemon disinfectant and a clean sponge.

Brandon grabbed the sponge and disinfectant and sprayed the seat. He wiped up the dribbles of yellow piss, then looked at her when he was done.

"Now clean off the sponge," she said.

"Where?" Brandon whined.

"Boy, you are standing right near a sink. Where do you think?"

"You mean!" Brandon huffed.

"And you're disgusting. You too old to be peeing on the seats like that. You lift it up, do your business and make sure you don't leave a mess for other people," Califia said running hot water on in the sink for him.

Her brother A.J. came peeking into the bathroom.

"I told him to wipe it off. He wouldn't listen," A.J. said.

Califia glanced at both the nine and ten-year-old. They both had the big foreheads of their Daddy and the same wiry haircuts into severe military high and tights.

"You have to respect other people's homes you guys, or they won't invite you back. Do you want to hear me yelling at you all day or playing video games with you?"

"Video games," A.J. said, a smile curling on his lips.

"Okay, well, do better, for me and Mommy," she said.

Brandon cleaned the sponge with more disinfectant under the hot water. Califia took over for him.

"Go play," she said scooting him out of the room.

The lemon smell was so strong in the bathroom, Califia held her nose. She washed her hands and laid the sponge on the windowsill to dry.

The house was filled with strong odors all day.

In the kitchen that morning she watched her mother and Nana pull the membrane lining from a bucket of chitlins, and later that afternoon had to endure the stench of them cooking on the stove. Outside in the yard, her Uncle Pete tossed a twenty-pound turkey inside a smoker right next to the rotating whole pig. Everything smelled of fresh dead meat, boiled eggs cracked open for potato salad, and pungent grated cheeses for mac n' cheese. The Atlanta heat wasn't helping either, so every odor was strong and stuck to her like glue. Chasing after the boys and her other younger cousins had her tired and irritable. She was happy to see her family, many she hadn't seen in years, but it felt like work now that she was an adult, and not fun running around like one of the kids back in the day.

By the afternoon, more relatives had crowded into the house and her Great-Uncle had pulled up into the driveway with his long ass RV with a slew of relations spilling out of it like a giant clown car. The Stevens family was legion.

Her sensitive nose and sluggish energy were happy to see her cousins that were her age finally show up. She caught up on family gossip about who was having new babies and ex-husbands, who was getting married, who was coming out the closet finally even though everyone knew and didn't care, and who had allowed Cousin Earline to make cornbread stuffing without any cornbread.

Califia's Aunt Doxie, the only other ginger in the immediate clan besides Califia, tossed back her fading strawberry blonde hair and cornered her niece near the rotating pig.

"Junie's girlfriend outchea starting trouble," Aunt Doxie said.

"How so?"

"She asked if there was any vegan food. Bitch, what we look like down here?"

Califia's cousins all cackled.

"I made a vegan turkey loaf for her, so she's good," Califia said rubbing lotion on her legs. She purposely wore booty shorts so her Nana wouldn't talk trash when Junie's girl came back from the mall with him.

"She was asking about the greens and the yams. 'Is there pork in it? I can't eat marshmallows on the yams because that's gelatin'. Nana is 'bout to break her foot in that gal's ass. You betta talk to her."

Califia rolled her eyes and saw one of her favorite cousin's roll up in a blue dodge charger. At least she could smoke a bowl with him right quick and get her mind right.

She'd been in Atlanta since N'Jobu left, and it was a smart move on her part because the moment she arrived in Georgia, she hit the ground running staying busy with family, running errands for older relatives and watching after her brothers since her mother decided to show up with the boys, even though this wasn't her family anymore since her divorce years ago. The Stevens family still accepted her as one of their own and even tolerated her sons by another man. She was always going to be Dante's wife no matter what to them.

The day N'Jobu left felt like the worst pain, but after reading his letter and depositing the cashier's check at her bank, Califia went for a long ride on her bike down the Pacific Coast Highway. After hours of riding, she felt level-headed enough to start planning her future. It still hurt to think about him, but staying active and out of California helped a lot.

She still read his letter every now and then, tracing her fingers over his signature that was written in Wakandan and feeling her chest quake from the words, but now it grew easier to think without automatically wanting to cry. The grief was still there, but not as raw as it once was.

She stopped checking her phone for texts, and her social media accounts for DM's. All of N'Jobu's accounts were inactive. The last message he sent to all of his friends was a one-word statement. "Home." That was it.

Her own email account was now inactive because she had been using a university account for years. Even if she wanted to email N'Jobu, neither one of them could. And she never had her own email account. She made up one the moment her university account was taken away. She couldn't email him if she wanted to.

But he could have a burner account. He could be watching her social media. She posted pictures of the family in Atlanta, shots of her eating lemon pepper wings, smacking on good barbecue, and making peach cobbler with Nana. But there were no responses or emojis coming from him.

She went out to a few clubs in Atlanta with her cousins and partied a bit, but she didn't feel like staying out longer and wasn't interested in drinking too much anymore. Junie was a big help in keeping her mind of N'Jobu by introducing her to a bunch of Kenny's single friends, hard-working brothas who wanted to get married and have kids right away. Many were very good-looking and valuable prospects, but her head wasn't in that space.

Someone had moved one of the house speakers to the window and started blasting music. The reunion was in full swing. The barbecue was the first activity and the next day the family would be touring the MLK museum wearing their family reunion t-shirts and matching baseball caps.

The barbecue smoke was getting to her so she went into the house.

"Whoo, they got this living room smelling like pig ass," Aunt Doxie said, "Cali, go get me the air freshener, please."

Cali went into the guest bathroom and dug under the sink. The lemon disinfectant smell was getting to her again, churning her stomach. Something caught her eye when she found the aerosol spray of apple-cinnamon freshener.

An unopened bag of sanitary napkins. Hers.

She sat back on her haunches, spray can in her hand, and her mind counted back weeks. She bought the pads before she left for Atlanta because she knew she would need them because she was due…

She ran to the bedroom she shared with her mother and dug her cell phone out of her purse. Searching on her calendar app, she felt her heart rate increase. She saw the date of her last period from a while back, and there wasn't anything marked for when she was due. She was always on time, like the Italian trains back in Mussolini's day. And she always marked her app when her periods came.

Holy shit.

Holy shit.

She'd missed a period.

She took her pills faithfully. It had to be the stress from the separation.

She fell back on her butt, her mind trying to think of every pregnancy cliché. She didn't have morning sickness. She didn't feel bloated. Her breasts weren't tender.

Calm down. Think.

She stood up from the floor and gave Aunt Doxie the air freshener, and walked outside to find her cousin Will so she could borrow his car.

###

She drove twenty minutes outside her uncle's neighborhood to find a drugstore in a predominately white area so she wouldn't run into anyone she knew. She bought two pregnancy test kits and toilet paper to cover her tracks. At the counter, she couldn't even look at the cashier as her total was rung up. She paid in cash and ran out to the dodge charger.

Sitting in the car she gripped the steering wheel.

She couldn't be pregnant.

As much sex as they had, her birth control was always strong. Full proof in her mind. She rationalized that if her pills didn't work, she would've gotten knocked up a long time ago by him. It had to be stress, the travel, eating heavier foods…

She couldn't tell anyone.

Walking back into her uncle's house, she was able to slip past everyone with the bag, and lock herself inside the master bedroom bathroom. It was more private and no one would go there first to use the bathroom.

She quickly read the instructions, peed on the applicator tip and waited.

She kept checking her cell phone for the time, the applicator stick hidden under a piece of tissue on the sink.

When she finally looked after the allotted waiting time, a rush of air exhaled from her mouth and a relieved smile crossed her lips. Negative.

She clutched her stomach and gave a nervous laugh. She wasn't pregnant. Breathe.

She wiped her face and wrapped the applicator stick in a ton of tissue and slipped it in her suitcase to be disposed of later when no one was around. She hid the other test kit in her suitcase too. She wondered if she could get a refund for it since she still had the receipt.

She returned to the barbecue in high spirits, her stomach flip-flopping from the quick reversal of fortune.

Jesus. What if she had been pregnant? She couldn't even get in touch with N'Jobu. Counting back days, she could only think if she had been, then it happened when they came back from Brazil, all the fucking they were getting in right before he left.

"Who is peeing on the toilet seat?" Nana yelled out.

Califia went to look for Brandon.

###

Califia had gotten over the pregnancy scare for a total of six days.

Her period still hadn't come, and her Aunt Doxie had mentioned dreaming about fish in the middle of Sunday dinner at cousin Earline's house, and all the women present started tittering under their breath and looking at her cousin Marvella who had been looking pretty plump which was not the norm for her.

"I'm telling y'all, I dream of fish, somebody is pregnant. Hand to Gawd, I have never been wrong," Earline said, a Newport dangling from her lips as she sat at her dining room table. She tapped the cigarette ashes into an ashtray near her hand, and Nana just nodded her head in agreement while snacking on a lemon pound cake.

Just hearing the word pregnant made Califia's heart palpitate.

When they were back in Kenny's house and she had the guestroom to herself since her mother returned to New Jersey, Califia brought out the second pregnancy test kit.

She slipped into the guest bathroom while everyone was asleep and peed on the applicator tip once again.

Sitting on the toilet seat and waiting for the results, she was amazed at how calm she felt. The first time she had been jittery, but this time it felt like the quiet before a storm.

Time.

She stared at the stick.

Stared at it again then closed her eyes and felt a shudder go through her.

Positive.

The most responsible girl in the world, the one who swore up and down that she wasn't having any kids until much later in life because she had things to do…she was sitting there holding a stick that read "Positive." No guessing about one bar or two, or thinking she had misread the outcome. The shit said PREGNANT. Surprise Bitch is what it should've read.

She and N'Jobu had connected on a cosmic level and he had put a baby in her.

The first feeling she had once she returned to her guest room was a quiet awe. She touched her belly and imagined a teeny tiny formation of cells inside of her body. A little one taking traits from her and him and creating someone brand new.

The second feeling she had was a need to look up information, but she wanted to wait. She had to get to a clinic as soon as possible to confirm that she really was pregnant. She decided to use the last few days of her stay in Atlanta to wrap her head around this new reality.

The third feeling was she was afraid. Very afraid. What would her family think? Her friends? She had got caught out there, and the father of her child had left the country and she had no real way of contacting him.

But he was the son of diplomats.

She could maybe contact an embassy and get information on how to get in touch with him. Maybe if she direct messaged him with this bit of news he would respond.

They had never discussed what they would do if they got pregnant.

Honestly, had it been anyone else, she would've been upset with herself. But it was N'Jobu. The man she loved. This child was made with love.

Wasn't no shame in that.

She fell asleep on the bed in her clothes, and the next morning as she scoured the internet for a discreet clinic where she could get tested, she knew one thing for sure.

She was keeping this baby.

No matter what.