Chapter Six Hundred and Seventy-three - And really, when have you ever done anything on your own? (part one)
Chapter Six Hundred and Seventy-three - And really, when have you ever done anything on your own? (part three)

Chapter Six Hundred and Seventy-three - And really, when have you ever done anything on your own? (part two)

CHAPTER SIX HUNDRED and SEVENTY-THREE

(part two)

Wednesday morning —7:02 a.m.

Jeraine flipped Tanesha under him and kissed her hard. She laughed.

“You taste like. . .” Jeraine kissed her again. “Tea and those breakfast cookies and. . .”

“You?” Tanesha asked.

Tanesha leaned her head up to kiss him. They kissed and rolled over again. For a while, they were caught up in each other in the way they had been since they were children. Breathless, they fell against the bed.

“You’re off all day?” Jeraine asked.

“All day,” Tanesha said. She fluffed her pillow and leaned back. “Do you have time?”

“I’m all yours,” Jeraine said. “Until. . . four? I think. There’s a show tonight.”

“Should we take Jabari out of school and. . .” Tanesha said and laughed.

“He would never want to be out of school,” they said in unison and laughed.

“We could go shopping,” Jeraine said.

“Ugh,” Tanesha said. “My feet hurt from work.”

“Spa day?” Jeraine asked.

“Eh,” Tanesha said, rolling over.

“Jeraine as your slave day?” Jeraine asked.

“That’s my every day,” Tanesha said.

They laughed. Jeraine kissed her ear.

“I’d love to spend the day with you,” Tanesha said. “Hang out here. Talk. Just see how you. . .”

Tanesha groaned when her phone rang. A second later, Jeraine’s phone rang. Tanesha reached her phone first.

“Hello?” Tanesha asked at nearly the same time that Jeraine said, “Hello.”

“Tanesha Smith?” a woman’s voice asked. “I need to speak with you and Jeraine Wilson.”

“Who is this?” Tanesha asked.

“It’s Atlanta Child Protection Services,” the woman said. “We haven’t met. My name is Hazel Johnson. I’m a child support service manager. I am responsible for the care and well-being of children in Atlanta.”

“Uh, okay, Jeraine’s right here,” Tanesha said. She nodded to Jeraine. “He’s hanging up. I’m going to put you on speaker.”

“Oh, good,” she said. “Thanks.”

Jeraine got out of bed and pulled on a T-shirt and sweatpants. Tanesha reached for her bathrobe.

“I’m here,” Jeraine said, pulling on his socks.

“Mr. Wilson, I’m not sure how to say this to you,” Hazel said.

“Ms. Johnson, you can tell us anything,” Tanesha said.

“How can we help?” Jeraine asked.

Hazel sighed.

“You can call me ‘Hazel,’” she said. “And, I’m glad you want to help, but let me tell you what’s going on first.”

“What’s going on?” Tanesha asked.

“You’re aware, well, of course you are,” Hazel said.

Hazel didn’t say anything for a long moment.

“Ma’am?” Jeraine asked.

“Sorry, I just realized that I was talking to Miss T and Jeraine,” Hazel said.

“It’s freaky,” Jeraine said. “For us, too.”

“We understand,” Tanesha said. “Take your time.”

“No, I. . . Well, I’m just going to tell you,” Hazel said. “You remember, Annette?”

“Jabari’s birth mother?” Jeraine asked. “Yes, I remember my son’s birth mother.”

“Yes, sorry — of course, you do,” Hazel said.

“Jer, why don’t you make us some tea?” Tanesha asked.

Looking relieved, Jeraine nodded and left the room.

Denver Cereal continues tomorrow...

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