Page 46 of On Merit Alone

Chapter Twenty-Five

Ira

“Mama,” I said in a hushed whisper as I set my tablet up in the unfamiliar kitchen, my mom on the other side of the screen.

“What’s wrong, Ira?” she asked right away. And—oh shit, I forgot my headphones.

Cursing, I ran over to the bag I had gone down to grab after Merit had fallen asleep and fished out my wireless earbuds. Back in front of the screen, I glared down at my mother, whispering, “Why do you assume something is wrong?”

“Because you call me Mama only when you want something, child. Now, what is it?” she pressed, her lips smacking and her hands going to her hips.

Peeking up, I checked the couch to see if I was waking Merit, but she didn’t stir.

Not a light sleeper .

I could add that to the category of new things I was learning about her today.

I was trying to stop kicking myself for being so ignorant. For thinking I knew anything about her or had any right to judge her when it was clear I hadn’t even begun to understand what she’s gone through. But it was hard. The best I could do was stay with her until she was feeling better.

She’d fallen asleep in my arms, still crying but at the very least less hysterical after my lips had fallen upon hers.

I didn’t plan on kissing her, but as soon as our mouths touched, I knew I wouldn’t stop.

Not when I felt so much and the only way I could possibly express it to her was through that expression alone.

I wanted to make her understand that she didn't have to be alone. That I could be here for her for more than just basketball. That must have been why she freaked out when I told her my news. Because in her eyes if I wasn’t around for basketball, I just wouldn’t be around.

But that was wrong, and I was going to show her how wrong she was about me.

Which brought me back to my mother.

Mirroring her stance, my hands on my hips and a fake glare marking my face, I spoke to her like I meant business—which I did, but respectfully of course. “I need a recipe, Mama.”

“Oh lord, what’s wrong now?” she asked, her dramatics always preceding her ears. To punctuate the fact, she called out for my dad. “Isaiah, your son is in some kind of trouble again!”

“Ma!” I hissed, pointing an accusing finger at her. “I am not in trouble!”

“The hell you aren’t! You’re trying to cook, and you want a recipe, so you’re actually trying to do it right!” my mom exclaimed. “So it must really be bad—Zay! Get in here! Bring the baby if you need to.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose but waited as my dad joined the little pow-wow, my nephew planted high on his hip. “What’s wrong, son?”

I rolled my eyes to the ceiling before returning them to the pair. Since I already had the two of them there, I might as well just go with it. “I need a recipe. Some kind of comfort food or something. ”

“Ira, you haven’t answered the question. What’s wrong? Did something big happen? Did you make a decision?” Mom asked.

Laying my hands on the table I leaned on them and sighed. I guess I wasn’t getting around this part. “No, guys. I’m just wanting to do something nice for a friend who’s not feeling too hot.”

The call went silent. The two of them looked at each other and then to me as if stunned.

My mom’s eyes were now darting around the screen, taking in whatever surroundings she could make out around my large body.

Dad was tilting his head to the side as if he was trying to wrap his mind around what I just said.

Even Maddox seemed to be perplexed as he chewed on his fingers staring into the screen with huge eyes.

“That’s not his kitchen, Isaiah,” Mom whispered, elbowing Dad as if he wasn’t right there looking through the same screen she was. “He’s not at home.”

“I see that, Lisa,” Dad said. “Son, what kind of friend are we talking about here?”

“ A friend , Dad,” I groaned.

“Alright, alright,” he said, showing me his palms. “I was just asking.”

“Well this is sort of time sensitive, so if you guys could possibly get the overbearing parent act over with so Mom can help me, that would be great,” I said.

“Oh, I’ve got more questions. I—oh!” Mom cut off abruptly, her hand going over her mouth.

I blinked at her confused when I noticed something in the corner of the screen. Someone. And that someone was behind me, rubbing her eyes as she walked into the frame. I turned to meet the real life Merit as she appeared behind me, waddling confused and sleepy into the room.

“Ira?” she asked. Her lip was poked out in a little pout as she tried to blink the sleep from her eyes. “What are you doing?”

“Hey, hey, Six,” I said softly, my hands immediately going up to cradle her face. “What are you doing up? You’re supposed to be resting.”

She was still pouting but looked up at me through her eyelashes barely suppressing a yawn. “I heard you talking in here and I didn’t want to miss it.”

Ouch . That was my heart bleeding right there on the spot. In my ear I could hear the distinct sounds of two old eavesdroppers listening and trying to make it seem like they weren’t.

Dropping my hands down to her waist I walked Merit slightly backward, out of the frame. I wasn’t hiding her, which is why I didn’t bother taking my headphones out and putting them further away so my parents couldn’t hear. But she deserved at least some privacy in her current state.

“Don’t worry about that, okay. I’m staying here until you feel better.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I know that. But I am,” I said, tracing the puffiness underneath her eyes with a thumb. “Why don’t you go ahead and shower and sleep some more? I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“But—”

Leaning down, I pressed my lips to hers quietly, hoping my parents couldn’t tell what I was doing.

It was another soft, simple kiss. Another reassurance for her, though I was quickly starting to become addicted to the softness of those lips she possessed.

I would never take advantage of her or her body when she was feeling like this, though.

I would never want to. I just wanted to make myself clear.

To make it known I would be here for her.

Pulling away, I caressed her cheek again. “I’m not arguing with you, Six. I’ll be here. Now go get some sleep.”

She surveyed me for a second, but I could tell she didn't have the energy to fight when she sighed wistfully. “Why are we whispering?”

“You don’t want to know,” I said, deciding to spare her the embarrassment of knowing my parents could hear her. Nudging her slightly, I said, “Go on. I’ll come get you if you sleep too long.”

“Okay. Thanks, Ira. I’m sorry to bother you,” she said, and then she sauntered off.

My hands went to my hips as I watched her go. Only she would take the way I was here right now as a potential bother. I would have to rectify that as soon as she woke up. But for now…

I returned to the screen to find my parents suddenly reverted to children. My mom was clapping animatedly, bouncing up and down as she did. And my dad was airplaning Maddox around, the sweet clueless baby giggling happily at the excitement.

“A girl! Isaiah it’s a girl!” Mom cooed, her hand fluttering down to cover her heart.

I grumbled. But my dad just chuckled heartily. “Oh, yeah. Believe me, I saw! He’s definitely in trouble, too. You see how he was talking to her?”

“I know that’s right!” Mom agreed. I swear it was like I wasn’t even in the room. Well I wasn’t, but I was on the phone and that was good enough. “And you hear how sweet she sounded? She woke up just to be with him!”

“Guys!” I snapped. They both peeked over at me like I was interrupting them. “Can we please focus?”

“Who is she, son? Some celebrity or something? C’mon, you can tell your dad.”

“ Oh my God . Three seconds and I’m calling Iris instead,” I said.

“Okay, okay,” Mom huffed. “No need to get your draws all tied up. What’s that you said, you need a recipe? Is she sick?”

“Sort of.”

“What’s wrong with her?”

“She had a bad day,” I said. Wincing, I shook my head remembering all that had come to light today. “Or a bad fourteen years.”

Mom nodded and said, “Alright. Let’s try to make her something good then.