The nursery. Safiya's eyes brushed across the soft blush walls with a bitterness nipping at the overwhelming elation swelling through her soul. The simplistic twin etchings of ballerinas on eggshell bristol paper with raw oak frames over the white baby bed. She rocked in the quaint armchair, hugging her tired body as she cradled Ameera, who was too busy getting her stomach filled to care about the surroundings or the noise humming from downstairs.

But Safiya was tuned in. The kitchen was right below the nursery so she was privy to the events unfolding just below her. The chipper young boy's voice illustrating all the fascinating tales of classroom banter, cafeteria raucous and recess fiascos floated up the stairs with the cool, easy air of the A/C. Sylvan bustled around the kitchen, rattling pots and pans, the rustle of bags as she dug out the ingredients she was going to string together to feed the child she bore and the man she continued to love.

Safiya couldn't fight the tinge of hurt that gnawed at her heart. Those were the things she hoped for when she was a young, starry-eyed freshman straight off the plane from California. She was sure she would further her education and find the right guy in the process so by the time she was close to thirty she'd have a successful career and a husband, to boot. Although the house she presently sat in wasn't her exact style, she wouldn't gripe if it were the four walls she had to reside in. She wanted to be the woman downstairs making dinner or watching dinner be made instead of the one harbor upstairs feeding a love-child.

The crack of the door was widened with an easy push. The movement called her mind from the epicenter of her thoughts and fully in reality. She blinked on the form until the person registered in her psyche. A subtle smile drew on her lips at the sight of him.

"I thought you weren't breastfeeding anymore?" Carter asked entering the room with a mug of tea. Mint chino shorts complimented his honey tone, a sign he spent most of his summer outside by the pool and not stowed away in his home office reading those books about historical events that she missed hearing him talk about—the gleam of excitement glowing in his gunmetal eyes. It was paired nicely with a cream button-down short-sleeve shirt showing off the taut biceps that were sculpted by earlier morning gym sessions.

"I won't for long." Safiya felt a chill rush through her body is in a vulnerable state under his gaze. She cleared her throat, her arms fidgeting with her hold of Ameera. Her squirming doesn't fret the baby, she stays latched on with her eyes sucking with a hand firmly planted on her mother's breast. "Can you turn around?"

Carter's eyes fell to the ground, "Sorry. I..." He shook his head with a slight sigh. "It's just I like..." His voice dropped lower but she heard his whisper. "...seeing you like this."

Safiya ignored the warmth rushing to her cheeks, casting her sight back on her baby feeling the need to explain herself. "I'm weaning her off but she loves these moments after waking from a nap. You weren't here and Sylvan was in a session, so..."

"You don't have to explain." His head lifted. "If she needs it, we give it. If she wants it, we supply it."

Safiya humphed. "Is that your motto for fatherhood?"

"No." His lips curved up. The lips she loved to taste. She ignored the remembrance with a hard swallow as he corrected,  "Yeah."

"Well..." She gently caressed the little one's cheek. "She won't get everything she wants. She'll have to learn that lesson, no one gets everything they want and even though it's bittersweet...it'll work out."

"Will it...you know work out?"

His words brought her eyes to his, seeing the magnitude of perplexity submerged in his irises. "Things always have a way of working out. Time settles the dust, flared emotions subside. Pain lessens and life adapts to the new rhythm of things."

He walked towards her, eyebrows crinkled not knowing what he is about to do. "You speak and I forget your age." He hands her the mug, his eyes briefly setting on Ameera before he backs up.

"Reading matures the mind." The statement falls from her lips out of habit. Years of hearing the combination of words have made it an adage of her life. The utterance of it swells her with sadness and she hopes the warm mug against her palm and her teeth digging into her bottom lip would keep her tears at bay for the one that gave her those words refused to give her anymore.

"The hurt on your face..." He leaned back against the changing table. "...is that from me or your parents?" He folded his arms over the expanse of his chest, reading the emotions riddling her natural made-up face. "If it's me...I'm forever sorry. I never learned that lesson." Her wistful eyes linked with his. "That you can't have everything you want but I'm learning it."

She gave him a tight-lipped smile with a nod of her head then sat the mug on the small table by her chair. "It's a good one." She stood then turned her back to him, shifting Ameera to her side as she fixed her bra and buttoned up her dress. "A life-changing one."

"So, are you going to tell me what happened in California?"

Just remembering it made her want to cry. There was no way she could talk about it, not with him. "It'll work itself out." She turned back towards him, Ameera was wide-eyed and full of energy ready to inspect any and everything laying on the floor. "They just need time to process."

He nodded, "I'm sure you're right." He comfortingly smiled nearing her. "A parents' love is unconditional." He lifted Ameera out of her arms bringing a sheer excitement to the baby that halted Safiya from getting her back.

"You don't my parents." She tried to smile but her mouth couldn't complete the action. Tears flooded her eyes and she shielded her face with her hands.

"The dust will settle with time, right." He rubbed her shoulder with a gentle yet firm squeeze. "Hey, why don't you stay for dinner."

Safiya chortled letting her hand slip from her face leaving pink-stained eyes in its wake, "That's a crossing a line and a bit too awkward." She stepped back letting his hand fall from her shoulder. "I'm grateful that you and your wife have accommodated my schedule but I'm not your family." She hustled, packing up Ameera's diaper bag.

"Dad!" The voice of a boy drew Safiya's eyes to the door and she gave him a smile that he reciprocated before going back to gathering up Ameera's favorite stuffed giraffe in the bag. "Mom, wanted me to tell you the oven is preheated."

"Thanks." He nodded to the boy still in his dirt-stained baseball clothes. "Hey, CJ..." He called the boy back before he ran off. "Get her to stay for dinner."

CJ smirked holding the door frame, "The cheesy potatoes are good but the rosemary chicken it better."

"I'm sure your mom's an awesome cook but—" CJ's laughter stopped her and the crooked grin on Carter's face told her that she had made an assumption. "You're cooking?"

"Yeah." He neared the door where the boy still stood with a bouncing Ameera in his arms. "We would love it if you stayed."

"Yea, and then I can show you Fortnite." CJ started entering the room. "Cause no one should be going around without that knowledge."

"See, you can learn something," Carter added.

She narrowed her eyes at the man before looking at the young lad with a smile, "That all sounds so much fun but I'm sure your mom wouldn't want that." She patted his shoulder knowing he didn't have a brother to play with anymore, which was something that was also her fault. "But I need to get home. Ameera needs to be kept to her schedule and I have homework."

"But next time?" He asked with exception sparking eagerness with the eyes of his mother. "You'll stay...cause Nick's not here and Lee's too busy and I'm running out of old people to educate."

She grinned not knowing to be offended by the word 'old' or thrilled that she had one other ally in the Russell clan. "Of course. Next time but I'll pick the time."

"Cool." CJ hurried towards the door. "Text me it." He slipped passed her dad and out the door.

"All set." He gestured to the bag on her shoulder.

Safiya coursed her eyes over the room making sure. The last thing she wanted was to have to come back in the dead of night for the pacifier that fits just right in Ameera's mouth. She was happy that Ameera wasn't a loud baby but she was a precise baby, needing a particular toy even though she had ten more that was just as plushy. "All set." She headed toward the door.

Should Safiya have stayed for dinner or did she make the right choice?

What do you think happened between her and her parents during her visit home?