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ass!”
    Yup! That’s how I felt…like a fucking dumb ass for this fucked up plan I had in place. I was upset with myself. Wouldn’t it have made sense to have my family visit my uncle all together? But we weren’t a real family. I’d made that our reality.  
    Nevertheless, Zoey with another man? I wasn’t ready to consider that distant possibility. Over my fucking dead body…
     

Chapter 2
    December 2008
    ~ Zoey ~
    “No! No!” I stomped my foot to the concrete almost to the point of pain. I fought back the panic that wanted to lead my emotions. This was hard considering it was Christmas Eve and my breasts were likely three quarters full and my pump was nearly two hours away. “I don’t need this. Not now!” I cried aloud as I inspected the two flat tires on the truck. I remember feeling less balanced on my ride to the church, but didn’t dwell on it, not a moment more with the myriad of things running through my mind of what I needed to do before hitting the road to be with my family.
    “Hey, Zo!” I heard from behind me. “What’s up?”
    I glanced over my shoulder to find Bernard coming my way.
    “Maaan, Zoey,” he exhaled the same sentiment of disbelief I had moments before.
    “I know. I don’t know what I ran over. I didn’t feel anything or hear anything.”
    “Well, obviously you did. I mean, look at this, Zoey! These tires alone will set you back about two grand. This is a luxury SUV. You think your boy, the baller’s gonna deduct this from your child support check?” Bernard scoffed, “Because this expense is ASAP.”
    I tossed him a sharp eye, cautioning his candor of my business with Stenton as if he nickel and dimed me or Jordan. I never discussed our arrangement with anyone. Stenton had been extremely generous and I didn’t need to assert that. That part of his heart was good.
    “I’m just saying, Zoey. You need to be more careful. This ain’t Bessie. You’re driving luxury now. You don’t want to give him any reason to believe you’re irresponsible or ungrateful.”
    “You’re overstepping, and more offensively with each word you speak about my son’s father. Bernard, if you can’t offer solutions, please get in your car and go about your business.”
    His eyes grew wide as did his mouth. “Oh, Zo, honey, I didn’t mean to offend you. I just don’t want him coming down on you li—”
    “He doesn’t come down on me!” I qualified. “I don’t know if I’ve ever given you the impression that Jordan’s father and I have a capricious or estranged relationship. If I have, let me clarify that we don’t. And what he does or doesn’t do financially will never be a topic of discussion between you and me. Do you understand?”
    When Bernard’s eyes dropped to assess my stance, mine followed and I realized my index finger pointed to his face, my center shifted in poise as though I was preparing to attack him. That wasn’t my intent, so I slowly retracted my finger, hand and then arm before turning to face my truck. I pulled out my phone and realized my battery was on red. The day couldn’t get any worse.
    “I’m sorry,” his tone now timid as I prepared to call Chesney’s firm, something I dreaded. When emergencies arrived, I was to contact his office—an office I was sure was closed on Christmas Eve. “What can I do?”
    At that, my head popped up from my phone. My brows quickly peeked, then dropped.
    “No. My family’s spending Christmas in Pennsylvania this year, out near the Poconos. Everyone’s there and I should have been on my way an hour ago, but I stopped here to drop off those printed offering envelopes that Pastor Whitaker forgot to before his family left for upstate New York yesterday.” I brushed my face with my hands while letting out a long exhale. “Then when you asked me to listen to the Tye Tribbett cover, I lost track of time. I should have hit the road right after my last final,” I sulked.
    Too late for that.
    Stenton had his