chapter Eighteen
Twin Fish
Kamara
I haven’t seen Toby in a month. We talk every day and every night. I miss him so much. He has been tied up with work. His brothers have been giving him a hand full of bounties and some surveillance cases. Toby says they are paying him back, for the month they spent covering for him.
I understand, but I miss him terribly. It isn’t helping that for some reason, my mother has decided to move in with me. I’ve been living on my own since college. I’m still trying to figure out this new need to be a mother hen.
“Ogeima,” my mother calls me from my thoughts.
I look up from the text I just sent Toby, to find her staring at me. It is not that she is staring, but the way she is staring. I want to fidget, but I know she will scold me for it.
“Yes, Mommy,” I reply.
“Is there something you aren’t telling me, Ogeima,” she says sternly.
I push my phone into the pocket of my dress. I’m stalling for time. I knew my mother wasn’t just here to be here. She’s been watching me like a hawk.
I groan internally. My mother is like a dog with a bone, when she wants to be. Ever the queen, she keeps a finger on the pulse of everything. Even in her silence. It can be very scary at times. I have to remind myself that I’m an adult.
My mother clicks her tongue, when I don’t reply. “I was not born yesterday. I see the stars in your eyes to match the ones in your belly,” my mother places her hands on her hips, pokes her lip out, and nods her head at my stomach.
I furrow my brows, placing a hand on my stomach. I’m lost. Yes, I have been sending text to Toby. I know I haven’t been able to hide my smiles, from time to time.
I get the stars in my eyes, but I am lost from there. My mother scoffs and shakes her head at me. I wait for her to clarify her words.
“Ahem, you don’t know, do you,” she clucks her tongue again. “You carry some man’s child, as you run from another,” my mother accuses.
My head whips back. “That is not true and it is not my choice to have to run from a man I have never known,” I say defensively.
“But you have known a man,” my mother points at me.
I look down at my feet. I will not lie to my mother. I feel her move towards me. Her fingers catch my chin and lift it.
“Girl, please,” my mother starts, her African accent thick. “You think I don’t see. Your father did not think of what would happen to you children here in another culture. His first concern was our safety.
“When your grandmother called to warn me of twin fish, your brother had just come to ask my advice about your niece and nephew. I assumed the crowned fish were his,” My mother presses her lips and shakes her head.
“I see it in your face. You are with child. The twin crowned fish belong to you. Who is the father?”
I shake my head, denying her words. I do the math in my head and slowly stop shaking my head. My lips begin to tremble.
“Ahem, ha, you see it. You know I am right,” my mother nods. “Who is the father?”
“I cannot say,” I murmur.
She kisses her teeth. “You will not tell me, but you will tell your father,” my mother commands.
“I cannot,” I reply.
I will not drag Toby into this. King Afafa is sure to get wind of this. I will need to cover my tracks from this very moment. This will not be looked upon favorably.
I could be put to death for this. So many thoughts run through my mind, as I think of what this could mean for me, Toby, and my children.
“You fear King Afafa.” It is a statement not a question.
“Don’t we all? He will see this as a disgrace. He is already furious with our escape. He grows angrier by the day, in his search of me,” I reply.
“Humph, let me tell you something, girl. The Devil can only imitate truth. A true king does not have to steal a throne or a queen. King Afafa’s days are numbered. He has no right to our kingdom, any more than he has a right to the throne he holds.
“Give it time. The politics and treachery that hold us from our home will fall before our eyes. We don’t have to fear. No weapon formed, my little one.
“I have seen much in my life. Your father and I have fought side by side for our land and our people. There is a warrior in you,” she covers my chest and smiles.
“Your father has wanted to keep you covered, but you shall roar one day. It will be the sign you are ready to be Queen. Now, girl, you will tell us who the father is,” my mother says her last words more firmly.
“Are you asking as my mother or my queen?” I ask holding my head up.
My mother scoffs and levels me with a look. “You want to play this game, Ogeima,” she clicks her tongue.
“I will honor your request, as my queen, but as a mother, for the first time in my life, I intend to be defiant,” I answer honestly.
“I will let you keep your secret for now. As I have said. You will tell your father,” my mother glares at me. She then switches to her mother tongue, talking more to herself. “This is not the way. I would never defy my mother. I did not raise you this way. We come here to America and my children lose their minds.”
In English, she narrows her eyes at me and says. “Honor me as queen, defy me as mother. I will still beat you, pregnant and all. Ha, little girl, please.”
I stifle a laugh, as she turns and continues to rant to herself. My mother is not going to let this go. I am shocked she took that so well, without commanding the answer as my queen.
I love my mother. She understands me. I know in her heart, she understands my fear. It is the only reason she didn’t dig into me like the Nigerian mother, warrior, and queen she is. I got a serious pass today.
I say a prayer of thanks, before running to grab my shoes and purse. I need to confirm what she has said. I am going to be a mother.
~B~
Toby
I would give anything to have Kamara in my arms. It’s been much too long, since I last saw her. My brothers took over that last weekend. It was like we were teenagers all over again.
Don’t get me wrong. I hadn’t had that much fun in longer than I could remember. While I longed to get back to my girl, I couldn’t deny getting to spend time with my family. Although, under Wyatt and Noah’s watchful eyes, I never even made it to say goodbye to Kamara. Before I knew it, my brothers insisted on riding with me back home.
“No, Felix, that’s all I have so far. This guy has been held up in the building all fucking day,” I grumble into the phone.
It has been a long day of collecting intel for one of our newest clients. I’ve needed my focus, but my mind has strayed to Kamara more times than I can count.
“Alright, but send what you do have. This guy is pretty persistent. I want to get this case going and close it out, ASAP,” Felix replies back.
“Hey, he’s coming out, call you back,” I say, ending the call from the console in my car.
I snap a few pictures, before reaching for my tablet to upload notes to the system Felix built, for instant sharing of data. I’m in the middle of typing in the last of my notes, when Kamara’s name pops up on my phone.
I absentmindedly hit the accept button, with a smile on my face. Then it hits me. She’s calling, not texting. Kamara knows I’m working. We usually text, when I’m working.
“Babe, what’s up,” I ask curiously.
“I need to see you,” Kamara rushes into the phone.
“I’m trying to come down there this weekend. I was hoping you could sneak over to the house at night,” I reply.
“No, Toby, I need to see you now,” something in her voice sounds off.
I look up through my windshield. My target is already on the move. I decide I have enough for now. Felix can get started with what I’ve sent him.
If my girl needs me. I’m there. We’ve been trying to figure out a way around her house guest and my work schedule, for about a month now. It’s been driving me nuts.
I had every intention of spending most my nights with Kamara, until her mother went to stay with her. That threw a wrench right in the middle of all of my plans. I’ve survived knowing that at least, I know where my girl is and we text and talk all the time.
“I’ll be there in about an hour,” I say, without a second thought.
“I will wait for you in the beach house. My mother thinks I’ve gone for a walk on the beach to think,” she responds.
“Think about what,” I ask immediately.
“We will talk when you get here,” she sighs.
“Wait, are you safe?”
“Yes, we will talk, when you get here,” she says and hangs up.
I press my lips, annoyed that she ended the call. I don’t like the sound of her voice. I toss my work things aside and start the car.
A million and one thoughts fill my mind, as I drive. Everything from, Kamara having second thoughts about us, her parents finding out about us, to Kwäzē changing his mind about us again. I have so many scenarios going on in my head by the time I pull into the driveway at the beach house.
I barely have the car in park, before I’m pushing my way out. I showed Kamara how to get into the house in case of emergencies. There is a keyless system on the side door.
When I get inside, sure enough, Kamara is sitting on the couch. Her feet are curled underneath her body and her arms are wrapped around her middle. Her eyes are red and her cheeks are streaked.
I rush to her side and pull her into my lap. My arms are around her, before I can think. Kamara wraps her arms around my neck, burying her face in my shoulder.
“What’s going on,” I ask, kissing the top of her head.
She doesn’t answer me right away. Instead, she begins to sob. I feel my heart tearing into two. I don’t know what is going on, but I can’t wait to fix it. I can’t stand to see her like this.
I pull back to look into her face. I reach to wipe away her tears. Her big eyes look back at me with such uncertainty.
“Talk to me, Baby. You can tell me anything, remember,” I coax gently.
“I’m…I’m pregnant,” she says so softly, I have to strain my ears to hear her.
I’m sure I’ve heard her wrong. I blink a few times, as her words sink in. She just watches me, waiting for my reaction.
I nod my head slowly and lick my now dry lips. “I’m sorry, I thought you just said you’re pregnant,” I give a weak chuckle.
Kamara frowns and pops me upside the head. “I did, Toby.”
“Ow, the hell,” I groan, rubbing the spot she hit.
“You are joking when this is serious. Do you have any idea how serious this is?” She rises her voice in panic.
“Oh, trust me, I know how serious this is. I just knocked up a real life princess. A princess that’s on the run from a crazy ass king. Fuck,” I huff and throw my head back against the couch.
“Why does it seem like I keep making one dumb move after another,” I groan.
“Dumb move, are you saying being with me is a dumb move,” Kamara hisses.
“Whoa,” I hold my hand up. I give her a crooked smile and start to rub her back. “Oh, God, you really are pregnant.”
“Toby,” she growls.
“I’m sorry, I crack jokes when I’m nervous as fuck. We’re having a baby. That shit is scary by itself. Add on all the other shit we have stacked against us. I think my hair has turned grey and dropped out.”
I bury my face in Kamara’s neck. “Is it okay if I cry now?” I groan.
“No,” Kamara pouts. “I need you. You can cry later. What are we going to do? We have just created a huge problem.”
I lift my head and look her in the face. “No, what we created is a baby. We created one more reason we belong together. One more reason, I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure you’re safe.”
“Safe,” Kamara nods and wipes tears from her face. “My father is going to kill me.”
“He’ll have to go through me first, which I’m sure he wouldn’t mind,” I snort.
“No, I cannot allow that. I’m not going to tell my family you are the father,” Kamara rushes out.
I knit my brows. “What do you mean?”
“I’m not going to tell them. The longer I wait to tell them who the father is, the longer Kwäzē and my father have to figure out what to do about this mess back home,” Kamara says, as she watches my face.
“I am still not willing to put you in harm’s way, Toby. The longer we wait, the better,” she bites her lip, as my face shows how much I’m not feeling her plan.
“I don’t like it. It’s my baby. I’m just supposed to pretend you’re not having my baby,” I shake my head.
“No, I’m not saying that. I will have to be careful, I want you to be as much a part of this, as you would like,” she replies.
“As much as I would like? I want to be there for everything,” I narrow my eyes.
Kamara covers her face with her hands. “This is already causing us to fight.”
I sigh, pulling her hands from her face and kissing her lips. “We’re not fighting, we’re talking this out. Do me a favor,” I run my thumb over her full lips.
“What,” she asks expectantly.
“Stop stressing, it’s not good for the baby. Allow me to worry about everything from here on out. I’ll take care of everything,” I promise.
Kamara doesn’t answer right away. She just stares into my eyes. She is searching for something. I’m not sure what, until she nods to herself and replies.
“You have never let me down. I will trust you.”
“And I will keep you safe,” I reaffirm.
Kamara cups my face, placing a kiss on my lips. “This road will not be easy, but I know we can conquer it together. Being apart does not suit us, in anyway,” she says against my lips.
“Which is why we’re spending the night together,” I nip her bottom lip.
“How, my mother is the one that told me I’m pregnant. She is watching my every move,” she huffs and her shoulders sag.
“Go back. Have dinner. Wait until she falls asleep. Text me and I will meet you on the beach,” I hatch the plan quickly in my head. I need to spend the night with her. “You’ll go back before the sunrises.”
Kamara gives me a wary look. I cup the back of her neck, bringing her lips right to mine. I nip that lush lip once again. “Don’t you miss me,” I breathe.
“Yes,” she answers back, going in for a kiss.
I pull back teasingly. Moving my hands to her full ass. I groan, she’s gained back her weight. Kamara is back to her lean, but thick body. Thick in all the right places.
“Spend the night with me,” I command.
Kamara’s eyes glaze over with desire. She bites her lip and nods her head. I pull her in close again, taking her lips.
I break the kiss, when I feel things getting out of control. My need for her has already gone unchecked, for weeks now. I place my forehead to hers.
“I think it is safer if I meet you here. I will leave once she is sleeping,” Kamara pants.
“I’m not letting my pregnant girlfriend walk the beach alone.”
“Fine, then we will meet half way. It will be better,” she relents.
I press my lips and get ready to contest, but I see the concern in her eyes. I have already figured out in my head that to make this work, we’re going to have to do some major compromising.
“Halfway,” I nod and steal another kiss.
I wonder how long halfway is going to work for us. This has the potential to start a war. Something tells me that potential is going to rear its head.
Even so, for now, it hits me. I’m going to be a father. Wow, talk about secrets. I have no idea how to tell my family this, and if Kamara isn’t going to tell her family that I’m the father, I won’t be telling them anytime soon.
Fuck!