The next morning was like the night before had never happened. I walked sleepily into the kitchen and stared groggily at Kenney's smiling face. Was I dreaming? Quite possible since, once again, I hadn't gone to sleep until right before the sun came up. And judging from the orange streak of light beaming right across the kitchen, the sun hadn't finished rising yet. It occurred to me that Kenney may have designed that house specifically so that the sun would angle through the kitchen window just like that every morning in time for breakfast.

Genius.

The guy was truly a genius at every one of his crafts and every single hobby, and I always admired that. I made a mental note to tell him sometime. Kenney made his way over to the table, frying pan in hand, and scooped out two platefuls of hash browns. He had also already laid out a plate of fresh fruit and another of bacon, his all-time favorite food ever.

He patted the seat next to him and I padded across the cold tile floor to join him.

"Good morning."

"Good morning," I answered sleepily.

He smiled at me, and instead of smiling back, I wondered what he was smiling at.

"Watch this." He jumped up and did a quick tick for me. Kenney never missed an opportunity to show off the fact that he could still breakdance.

I smiled and chuckled.

Sensing that we were cautiously back on good terms now, he went into the living room and cranked his house-wide surround sound up just in time for the first chorus of Bell Biv Devo's Poison. He danced back into the kitchen and stopped right in front of me, singing at the top of his lungs. Then he proceeded to do the entire BBD video by heart, as if he had never stopped doing it since elementary school.

When the song went off, he came and sat back down, not even a little out of breath from all that spinning and jumping around, then bowed his head to say grace. Almost halfway through my own plate, I bowed my head with him. When he was finished, I echoed "Amen," and went back to eating. He smiled down at his food, but didn't comment on how I had become more and more cooperative with all of his "church stuff" - as Collin liked to call it. I even bowed my head with him every now and then when he said his nightly prayers "over our home," "over Tashi and the baby" and "over our peeps." Before I just used to give him the side-eye. Not because I wasn't raised in church. It was just that by that time, Collin had me truly thinking...what's the point? Now, though, sometimes I even held Kenney's hand while he prayed over the house and our friends and family. Sometimes...

I guessed Kenney had finished the conversation that he'd started with God the night before, too, since he was in such a good mood now.

"You know I've always been a sucker for a man who can tick."

I don't know why I said that, and as soon as I did, I wanted to reel the words back in like a fish on a fishing rod. Kenney just made a little "Huh..." sound, like that was interesting, and then put his head down and kept eating. After breakfast, Kenney went to work and I started cleaning. I had become some kind of cleaning maniac in my third trimester and, truth be told, it was a little out of control. Kenney couldn't even put a glass down before I picked it up and put it in the dishwasher. Plastic cups were even worse. Because the smell of them was making me progressively more and more sick, I banned the use of them altogether.

Banned Kenney from using his own cups, in his own house. Can you imagine? And he stopped using them, too.

The absolute worst, though, was closets. I had gone through every cabinet, pantry and closet in the house with a fine tooth comb. Luckily, Kenney wasn't the type to freak out about things like that. He actually thought it was pretty funny and thanked me all the time for the "free cleaning service."

I would just say "Now we're even," like I was earning my keep, and would keep it moving. Looking back, I don't know why I wouldn't just admit that I was getting the house ready for the baby. Maybe I was avoiding the conversation that had been looming over our heads like a rain cloud, waiting for its chance to burst. I was just finishing stacking his blue prints into a neat little pile when I realized that his office closet was the one place that I hadn't inspected. When I opened the door, it was like the OCD jigsaw puzzle from hell. Crazy, since every other aspect of his personal space and life were completely and totally organized. It was like this closet was to his house what I was to his life. Neatly compartmentalized chaos. And it was full of all the things that he needed, just like I was, so there was nothing that could really be thrown away.

It was nearing 5:30 when I pulled out the last shoebox from the very back corner of the closet and emptied its' contents onto the floor, then sat down next to the pile. I don't know why I did that, knowing good and well that my big ass wouldn't be able to get back up again until Kenney came home. In the middle of the floor is where he found me, too, thirty minutes later, slowly looking through the very similar photos of his early photography days. The Atlantic Ocean sparkled gloriously in the background of every picture, beckoning me back to a place that I had long since forgotten.

Kenney walked through the door just as I was putting two of the last three pictures neatly back into the blue Nike shoe box. I had kept the last one out intentionally.

"What are you doing?" Kenney automatically walked over to me and held out his hands, having become accustomed to having to help me up off of the floor.

"Can I have this?" I asked, ignoring his outstretched hands, still fixated on the photograph. He knew what I was doing, a. And b, he had read enough books to know a nesting frenzy when he saw one.

"Yeah, sure."

He looked down at the picture, without really seeing it. Kenney would have given me the shirt off his back if I asked for it. He had always been that way, and not just with me, either. With everybody that he had ever come across. It's amazing how he never ran out of stuff. This life was the complete and total opposite of my life with Collin, and it was hard for me to reconcile the two lifestyles into one that I could completely feel like I was a part of. But that was nothing new. I had always felt like a stranger in a strange land, no matter who I was with. Kenney knew that, too, and understood it better than most. I think he probably felt the same way a lot of the time. Especially around his family.

I took the picture of a huge harvest moon shimmering over the ocean into my room and pulled out a large scrapbook. Kenney absentmindedly wandered in behind me and sat down on the bed, quietly looking over my shoulder while I flipped through the pages and found the one I was looking for. Then I placed the photo neatly into a space that had been waiting all those years specifically for it. I knew he had taken a picture of that moon, even if I hadn't seen him do it.

My collection, part one, was finally complete. I closed the book and put it back under the bed where I had always kept it, more out of habit than anything, since it was a book dedicated completely and totally to Kenney's work. I had almost all of the pictures that he had ever given me copies of at Hampton, and almost every architectural design that he had ever been a part of. Every feature, every article, every advertisement that he had sold a freelance photograph for. Hell, I had even become a subscriber to Architectural Digest years ago specifically for a chance to catch a glimpse of Kenney in all of his creative glory. Collin never understood my fascination with architecture, and honestly never really cared. He would have been all over my ass though, if he had known Kenney was the reason.

"Wait...let me see that."

I jumped a little, forgetting that he was even there and blushed, embarrassed, now realizing fully what I had just let him see.

I pulled the book slowly back out from under the bed and handed it sheepishly to him.

He sat there for the longest time, silently flipping through each page, taking at least fifteen minutes per page, studying it intently, taking in every last detail. When he finally finished inspecting the last page, he flipped back to the beginning and started all over again. It was almost 8:00 by the time Kenney put the book down on the bed and looked up at me.

He just kind of smiled and stammered over his words.

"I...uh...I..." he shook his head. "Wow..." He looked around, trying to think of something to say, and then looked back at me. "Um...are you hungry?"

I was a little taken aback, expecting him to say at least something about the history in that book, about our history together...but what could I do? Sometimes you just have to take what you can get. So I nodded yes, and followed him out into the kitchen.

He pulled out some vegetables and placed them on the kitchen island, then pulled out a chef quality knife from his very extensive cutlery collection and I started chopping them on the built in cutting board.

When I turned to ask whether he wanted the peppers diced or sliced, I found that he was already facing me. I'm not sure how long he had been standing there, looking at me, but I could tell that he had been waiting for me to turn around for a while.

Then, out of nowhere, he grabbed me around the waist and kissed me.

This was getting out of hand.

Just as quickly, he turned back to the stove and threw some chopped beef into the already sizzling wok.

I just shook my head and decided to save that whole conversation for another day. I already had so much on my mind that I rarely ever slept, which I knew couldn't be good for the baby. This night wouldn't be any different, I already knew. I had also started having severe panic attacks again. I never told Kenney about them, but I knew he knew. Sometimes he would come into my room right when I thought I was about to rip my own skin off, like he knew...somehow he always knew...and would just sit there on the edge of the bed and rub my back, or would even climb under the covers with me sometimes. We would often talk late into the night until I finally fell asleep. He would stay up and talk to me even when he had to get up at the crack of dawn the next day for work.

He never once tried anything. He would just...be there for me, like he always had been.

That night was no different. Kenney, as always, tried to hang for as long as he could, but he never was one to stay up very late. He had always been the youngest old man I had ever met. Early to bed, early to rise had always been his thing.

We didn't really say very much to each other that night, too much into our own heads, I guess, and finally he kissed me goodnight and went to bed.

That made two nights in a row.

Around 3am, I decided to take the BET After Dark marathon to my room. Hey, what else was on at 3 am back then? I closed the door behind me, hoping that I hadn't waken Kenney with my clumsy bumbling down the hall. I turned the TV on real low and alternated tossing and turning with the covers over my head, and watching what could only be described as misogyny at its best.

About thirty minutes later, Kenney knocked on the door.

"Come in."

"Hey."

"Hey."

"You ok?" Kenney asked, already knowing that I wasn't.

"Not really. The baby keeps kicking me in the ribs."

"Oh," he came over and sat down on the bed. "I heard you tossing around in here." Then he rubbed my belly gently and spoke into the mic. "You ok in there baby?"

I chuckled.

Seeing that he had both of us as an audience, he continued. "Go to sleep Charlie Brown. Mommy needs to sleep." The baby responded with a small kick to the side, but nothing like the Bruce Lees he'd been handing out all night. "No he didn't," Kenney chuckled and then put his face close to my belly button, placed both hands on either side of my belly, and spoke a little louder. "Hey! Are you kicking me in there? You better back up, son. I'll fight a baby."

I giggled and the baby kicked me again, this time leaving his foot pressed up against Kenney's right hand.

The look that passed over Kenney's face was...different. I don't know how to explain it, but I had definitely never seen him reflect that emotion before. As moody as he was, I thought that I had seen every emotion he had to offer.

Kenney looked at me, and then back at the tiny foot print against his hand. Slowly he pulled his hand away and looked at me again. I looked back at him, not sure what he was feeling, and not sure how what he was feeling was making me feel.

He put his hand back onto the tiny foot that was still pressed up against my side, waiting for Kenney's hand to return, and then he kissed my side, just beside his hand. Slowly, moved his lips over to the middle of my stomach and gently kissed my belly button.

Shit.

I couldn't say anything, and was kind of in my own head by that time. Should I stop him?

Nope...

He kissed my belly button again and responded to my slightly arched back by kissing it one more time.

Shit.

He looked up at me, like I had said that out loud and slowly traveled his hand up to my face. Gently, he stroked my cheek and then put his other hand onto my right side and kissed my lips softly. I could feel the baby put his foot up against Kenney's left hand, but I'm pretty sure by that point Kenney didn't even notice. I fought the urge to put his hand where I actually wanted it to be, and settled on kissing him passionately back.

Kenney pulled away for a minute and gazed into my eyes, I guess looking for some sort of go-ahead. Oddly, this didn't feel weird at all, and it didn't seem nearly as awkward as I would have felt if I had been watching some other seven months pregnant chick make out with some dude that wasn't the baby's father.

Because the thing was, this wasn't some other dude. This was Kenney. My Kenney. I wanted him right then. I wanted him so bad. In every way that I could possibly have him...

I guess Kenney got the go-ahead that he was looking for, because he slowly slid his hand up under my shirt. Then, caressing my breast with his left hand, and moving his right hand down to my hip, he kissed me like he had never kissed me before. If he had been kissing like this the whole time, I could see how he had pulled all those older chicks back in the day. Then he slid his other hand down to my other hip and grabbed me tightly with both hands. Right when things got...heated, and started getting really good to both of us, the baby reared his little feet back and jumped with the strength of a full grown man directly onto my bladder.

I shot up immediately, afraid that I was about to spring a leak right on Kenney.

"Oh shit..."

Kenney pulled back quickly. "What?"

"The baby." I grabbed my lower abdomen and tried to sit up. Kenney helped me.

"Are you ok?" He was kind of amused and kind of concerned, like he was hoping that I wasn't going into labor.

"Bathroom," I managed to get out before finally getting my feet on the floor and making a beeline for the door.

When I came back to the bedroom, Kenney was still there, now with his legs under the covers, searching for the remote.

I stood at the door awkwardly, having had time to think about what had just happened, and hoped that he didn't think that it was about to go down for real.

Kenney, probably sensing my apprehension, turned his attention to whatever X-rated video had just come on BET and chuckled.

"What is this crap you're watching, Tashi?"

I shrugged and walked timidly over to him.

He scooted over to make room for me and pulled back the covers to let me in.

I climbed in next to him and looked over at him like what's next?

Kenney, having never been a man of words when words weren't necessary, ran a hand over the back of my hair and pulled me close to him. Then he kissed my forehead.

"Natasha?"

"Yeah?"

"I wasn't going to fuck you just then."

I pulled back to look at him. "Um..." I cleared my throat, which was suddenly dry for no apparent reason. "Ok..."

"I wouldn't do that." He ran his hand over my hair again and pulled me back to him. "First of all...no, I would never do that. Not like this. Second of all, I would make love to you first before I ever fucked you. Unlike these fools you got me watchin' on TV."

"Huh..."

"And I can't do that...like this, so..."

I didn't have any response to anything that he had just said, and he didn't have anything else to say beyond that.

"Goodnight, Tashi."

"Um...good night."

And a little while later, we both fell asleep.