“You didn’t have to say it like that, you know?” I said.
“How else was I supposed to tell you about the baby?” Alisha said. “You know how much I want kids.”
“I don’t know — like a normal person,” I said. “You could have come running into the bedroom with a pregnancy test. Anything other than this.”
“Well, excuse me for being creative!” Alisha said.
“You call dropping off a cake at work with a baby on it creative?”
“Don’t want it, do you?” Alisha said. “The baby — you don’t want it. I should have known,” Alisha said, rubbing her stomach.
“It’s not that I don’t want it. I just had a surprise of my own.”
“Suprise?” Alisha raised a sly brow. “You. Got a surprise for me?”
I stood to my feet.
“So, you’re leaving? Was that the surprise?”
“Just relax,” I said. “And close your eyes.”
Alisha complied. “This had better be good.”
I whisked a young girl through the door and stood behind her. “Well, open your eyes, dear.”
“I’m sorry? Who is this young lady?”
“We’re adopting her. I thought I’d be creative.” I raised a sly brow.
Alisha wiped tears with a tissue. “This. Now this is creative.”
(Check out Dusting off Dreams currently #12 out of 167k in poem collection)