Page 21 of Blake University: HBCU Chronicles: Brynleigh & A.Z.

“Wait, you want me to go for real?” The look of despair on A.Z.

’s face was cute. But funny. He was a lot different than the guys I dated when I first graduated from high school.

A.Z. was manly. There was nothing soft about him, but he was respectful.

He was kind and not afraid to express his feelings.

He didn’t feel the need to play hard or front about how he felt.

I loved that about him. He was a little cheesy but in a way that turned me on.

Like watching him do homework made me want to suck his dick.

I knew guys that could barely read, but they could weigh drugs, bag it up, sell it, and count money. Being able to get money was an attractive trait, but a grown ass man that couldn’t read wouldn’t necessarily turn me on no matter how much money he had.

“No,” I giggled. “I like you keeping me company and waiting on me hand and foot.” I’d been in my apartment for a month, and there had only been about five nights that A.Z. hadn’t spent the night.

When A.Z. pulled into a driveway that was long enough for at least eleven cars to line up, I wasn’t shocked. The estate before me was so grand, it was hard to think about only four people living there before and now only two. The house was beautiful.

“I knew the house would be nice but wow.” I didn’t attempt to hide my awe.

I remained seated while A.Z. walked around to open my door.

The house had me so stuck that my nerves didn’t start going haywire again until we were standing at the door.

A.Z. used his key to get in. From the moment we stepped into the huge foyer, the aroma of food smacked me in the face, and my mouth started to water almost instantly.

We rounded the corner and went into the living room. Mr. and Mrs. Matthews were sitting in the den watching a movie on a huge television that was mounted over the fireplace. I held my breath as they both directed their attention toward us.

“Hey!” His father sounded excited to see us or A.Z. Shit, I didn’t know, but I smiled and said, “Hello.”

To my surprise, A.Z.’s mother stood up and walked over to us with a smile on her face.

“Between my husband and my kids acting like I was the worst person in the world and me doing some reflecting, I’d like to apologize.

Please forget your first impression of me.

It’s nice to meet you. I heard about the times you looked out for my daughter, and I appreciate it more than you’ll ever know. ”

Wow! Wicked tigers could change their stripes.

“Thank you. It’s nice to meet you too,” I smiled.

I was so relieved that I wouldn’t have to apologize for possibly slapping the badly curled wig off Mrs. Matthews’ head.

All that money, and her wig was atrocious, but she was dressed to the nines in a sleeveless, fuchsia, dress and matching Hermes sandals.

Mrs. Matthews hugged A.Z. and we sat down.

“Brynleigh, my son tells me that you have plans to be a postpartum doula.”

“Yes, I would like to. I have two more certifications to get before I create a website and start looking for clients.”

“One of my neighbors that lives three houses down is seven months pregnant. She also has a two-year-old. She’s looking for someone at night that can help her forty hours a week for four months. I think the hours she wants are around nine pm until six am.”

I had to stop my jaw from falling open. I never imagined that a job would fall in my lap. I assumed it would take me months to find a client. In three months, I’d be five months. And if I worked for four months, I’d be working right up until the time I gave birth which was kind of perfect.

“Oh wow. Thank you so much for letting me know. I don’t have business cards or anything yet, but you can give her my information.” I prayed that not being prepared wouldn’t cost me the job.

“Of course.”

Tyra walked into the room, and she looked so happy and well rested. Her eyes widened when she saw me. “Hi, Brynleigh.” She rushed over and hugged me.

“Let’s eat, shall we?” Mrs. Matthews stood, and we all followed her into an enormous kitchen.

The chef had prepared a spread of pot roast with carrots and potatoes, baked macaroni and cheese, potato salad, grilled asparagus, corn bread, and red velvet cake.

I knew I wanted some of everything and prayed I wouldn’t throw it up later.

I’d only thrown up twice during my pregnancy, but two times were two too many in my opinion.

I dug into my food hoping no one noticed how greedy I was while the Matthews questioned their kids about school. Mr. Matthews then began asking A.Z. questions about his record label and what his next steps were.

“Brynleigh is pregnant,” he announced out of nowhere almost making me choke on my lemonade.

The room became awkwardly quiet while I wiped lemonade off my chin. The way my heart was pounding one would think they were my parents and not his. I was afraid to look at his mother, and I could feel her eyes on us.

“And your plans are?” his father asked.

“To raise my child. I want us to be together as a family, but Brynleigh and I aren’t going to force it. We’re taking it slow. I guess we should have taken it a little slower. But things happen. I can hold myself accountable, and we’re going to try and make it work. That’s all we can do.”

“I didn’t want either of my children to have kids out of wedlock, but we don’t always get what we want.

Times are different, and you are an adult.

” Mrs. Matthews didn’t sound super thrilled, but her head wasn’t spinning around either.

Hell had to be frozen over, or she was on some Xanax or something.

After we were done eating, A.Z., Tyra, and I stayed for another hour. I couldn’t wait to take a shower and curl up in my bed. “I told your scary ass that it was going to be cool,” A.Z. told me in the car.

“Man, I just knew when you blurted out that I was pregnant, all that nice shit was going out the window.” I punched him in the arm. “Thanks for the heads up, asshole.”

“I had to go ahead and get it over with man. My ass was sweating bullets. It wasn’t even that bad.”

“No, it wasn’t, and if I get hired by the neighbor, that would be so dope.”

“And the neighbor that she’s talking about has a husband that plays professional baseball.

She has an online boutique. Shorty buys Chanel bags like I buy socks.

Don’t lowball. If you’re too cheap, she’ll think you aren’t good and second guess it.

She loves spending money. She thinks the more expensive stuff is the better it is.

Charge her ass like $100 an hour. I promise she’ll pay it. ”

I was in awe. I couldn’t wait to be financially comfortable.

And not because I had access to A.Z.’s money but because I bossed up and had my own.

It was still very early in the relationship but so far so good.

Life had really changed for me in a good way, and I didn’t regret anything that happened.

I especially didn’t regret not chasing after money and trying to finesse people.

A good man with money fell in my lap when I wasn’t even looking. Thank God for Blake U!

The end!