Almost There
Justice's dance bag is thrown over her shoulder as she walks into the salon. She finished her last ballet/tap class for 3–5-year-old students when she received the text of the appointment change. "What's up little lady?"
"Hey, I thought we were scheduled for brows and mani-pedi's an hour from now?"
"Oh, that is still true for your crew, but someone's boyfriend called to make sure you get the gentle pink sugar scrub facial."
"No, he didn't!"
"Oh yes, he did."
She pulls her phone out to make a call but is interrupted. "Hey Justice."
"Michonne…how are you? Wow, you look great. Your locs are so long."
"Prenatal vitamins are amazing. Tonight, is the big night…right? How excited are you?"
"Over the moon. Carl got me a spa facial. Can you believe it?"
"Absolutely…he's sprung," they both laugh joyously.
"Don't tell him but me too."
"We know," Bonnie Rae and Michonne respond.
"Gorgeous you ready?" Rick greets. He pushes the triple stroller into the salon lobby. A large grey backpack with baby bottles in each of the four orange side pouches is added to his typical jeans and t-shirt.
"Oh, can I see the babies?" Justice requests.
"Sure," Michonne walks over and pushes back the stroller canopies to reveal each of her children. "This is Heaven, Grace and Rick Jr." Each child wears a purple onesie and is covered in a denim- colored crochet blanket.
Justice kneels and peers inside the stroller, "Damn…ooh, my bad, but y'all made some pretty babies." She looks up at the two parents.
Rick responds with pride, "You can thank their mother for the pretty."
"Sprung," the ladies chorus before giggling.
"Guilty as charged. Enjoy prom night."
Justice pulls her head band off and adjust her bun while she waits for the aesthetician to arrive. She sends Carl a text: You are the best! With a kissing emoji. She starts daydreaming but her thoughts are stopped by a loud voice outside the door.
"This isn't fair! Don't you understand…I am going to be prom queen. My face has to look its best."
"Roxanne, I am sorry, but it is the day of the prom and every possible appointment is taken."
"I can pay extra. Let me talk to the tech," she demands.
"Young lady, the scheduled client is already here. Your best bet for a bad spray tan is lemon juice, baking soda or baby oil; and based on your face I would suggest sooner rather than later."
Lori taps away on her phone. The ovulation calculator is the only thing maintaining her sanity. She hoped to return from her honeymoon pregnant, but every test came back negative. She took a deep breath. Think positive. She made reservations at a restaurant in Macon for a client meeting. Shane was always in a great mood after conducting business; especially if the night ending with a signed contract. Even if he does not last long his recover time is quick.
Rick places the three aqua colored bath sponges in a row across the large tub in the master bathroom. He chuckles to himself while he pushes down on each piece of foam to make sure they absorb the lukewarm water. When he first saw the tub all he could envision was all the ways he and Michonne could take advantage of the space while exploring each other. Fortunately, God had other plans. The tub was the perfect size to bathe three babies at once. His wife's voice pulls him out of his random musing. "Ready for bath time Daddy?"
"Bring in the little stinkers," he calls over his shoulder.
She enters the room carrying their son and one daughter. He easily gathers both with a practiced precision. She pivots quickly to grab the last one. She hands off Heaven. "I am going to throw dinner in the oven," she extends her hand for a low hand slap.
Rick whistles a tune while rubbing lavender bath wash onto the soft washcloth. The babies watch in fascination at the sound coming out of their father. He starts a conversation, "Son, I need you to not pee on me. Follow your sisters' example…okay."
Michonne makes the most of her time in the kitchen. She loads the dishwasher; throws out some old food items in the fridge; and adds some items to the running grocery list on the dry erase board mounted on the wall. The buzz of the dryer leads her to the laundry room to remove a load of baby clothes. She balances the basket on her hip and jogs back up the stairs.
She is in the nursery placing folded item in the dresser when she hears his voice call down the hall. "Ready when you are."
She enters the bedroom with diapers and a set of pajamas stacked on top of each other. She enters the bathroom as he lifts one baby so Michonne can place the hood of the towel over her head before pulling the sides around her wet brown body. "Come on little lady." They move into the bedroom. She sits on the side of the bed; pops open the lavender lotions before patting her daughter dry. She rubs her down massaging her tiny limbs. She lifts her lower half by the feet placing the diaper under her butt. She secures the flaps before snapping her into the onesie. Michonne rubs argan oil into her hair before using a wide tooth comb to untangle her curls. "Alright GG…I need to you to hang out while I grab the next one. You got my back…right? Good girl," she places her in the first bassinet at the foot of their bed.
Justice sits on the armless stool in her mother's bathroom. The counter is cluttered with hair, skin, make up products and perfumes. Her auntie and mother fuss about making sure her hair and make up are perfection. Alicia Keys and H.E.R. provide the soundtrack. "I know you all are having a slumber party at Enid's, but I still expect a check in text…curfew is curfew," she cuts off her mother.
"Even if you are on the moon. I know Mom, remember Ms. Karen and Bonnie Rae are chaperones."
"Enough of all that…take a look." Both ladies move from in front of the mirror so she can see the finished product.
Justice moves her head slowly from side to side. The body curls and glistening sheen of her hair make a dramatic statement. "Wow, thank you. Do you think the golden smokey eye is enough?"
"I think you look perfect…but I am biased," Penelope smiles at the young lady that is no longer her little girl.
"I think Carl is in for a long night," her aunt retorts.
Michonne sits on the bed with one leg folded under her writing:
Today was a good day. You are sleeping and I am not nearly as tired as I was a week ago. We have a routine that keeps us from descending into chaos. We are also extremely blessed to have grands here whenever we need extra hands. Daddy is going back to work soon but we will be okay. You are getting so big. You will start crawling before we know it and I am not ready.
Rick leans against the doorframe watching the love of his life. The only real sound in the room is the soft breathing of his children. He climbs on the bed moving closer to his wife. He brushes her locs off her shoulder. She turns and smiles at him in the way that makes his heart melt. "Thank you."
"For what?"
He points around the room, "Everything…beautiful, amazing children…a home…your love…just grateful…I wanted; no, I needed you to know. You are the reason for all of it…you are the key."
Michonne shakes her head, "No, we are the reason…you and I. None of this works without you." She brushes her slim fingers against his whiskered chin.
He leans forward and kisses her softly. She smiles against his mouth and returns the gentle peck. He kisses her back a little deeper moving the journal to close the space between them. God, I missed her. He holds her face with his left hand never breaking the kiss and leans over to lower her body on the bed. His right-hand slides down her torso griping her waist. Her eyes pop open breaking the kiss. He studies her eyes. "Hey, talk to me."
She closes her eyes and exhales, "I…my body," he cuts her off.
"Your body is amazing…sexy and doing thangs to me…never doubt that."
"I know you think so, but" he stops her with a finger against her mouth.
"How about we just cuddle? Can a husband get a cuddle…what about spooning? I promise to behave…I mean I will probably try to feel up on all this booty," he grabs a handful and wiggles his eyebrows.
She brings her fingers to her nose and lets out a giggle. She nods and he kisses her forehead.