Love Delivered Read Online Free PDF

admonished the humpty dumpty figure of a woman next to him, seated on a stoop too small for her frame.
    T-Murder?
    Her demand was too late. T-Murder was on his way over to us. I rang the doorbell again, even more impatiently.
    Come on!
    “Oh, shit! Lil’ money look just like Stent! Tash come see this lil’ nigga!” he cried with sheer excitement.
    I gasped and the door finally opened.
    “Tyrone, I know I didn’t just hear that derogatory word fly from your mouth regarding my great-nephew!” Stanley stated in a warning manner.
    “Oh, nah, Uncle Stan! It’s just that lil’ man look just like him.” T-Murder—because that’s what I was still stuck on—was still gushing.
    I knew this because I could clearly see the beam in his crusted eyes and twitch in his white crusted lips. Oddly, that morning’s messy display thawed me. Stanley, on the other hand, wasn’t taken at all. He grabbed the gift bags and pivoted to welcome me into his home. I lifted Jordan and followed his command, not missing the words of caution he issued T-Murder before closing the door.
    “I’m sorry about that,” Stanley offered from behind.
    I was too busy trailing my gaze against the old pictures hanging from the wall. There were lots of them, far more than normal, causing me to take Stanley for a sentimental man.
    “I’ve been in this house more years than you have on this earth, young lady.”
    He must have caught my fixation. I didn’t reply, just moved Jordan out of the doorway and wandered over to a weathered picture of two young boys no more than eight…who heavily resembled Stenton.
    “You and his dad…”
    “…were twins, yes,” he offered from behind me.
    I didn’t startle at his wit. I couldn’t remove my gaze from the photo.
    “I didn’t know that.”
    Stanley chuckled. “I suppose he didn’t tell you that. It would have been a fascinating mention, but nothing for you to worry about. Genetically speaking, the father determines the sex of the baby and the mother does the number of them in the womb at once. Unless twins run in your family, Jordan here was destined to incubate and arrive here alone.”
    I stood and turned to him. Stanley was tall and cinnamon. He didn’t have the length Stenton carries and likely didn’t before age morphed his natural height. Stanley’s eyes weren’t marbled either. They were pitch sable, very stark. I dropped my eyes to the floor at his expectant stare. He was a bit intimidating.
    “What was Stenton’s father’s name?”
    “Stenton.”
    “Stanley and Stenton,” I muttered underneath my breath, or so I thought.
    “You mean Stenton and Stanley. He was born two hours before me. I was the stubborn one, destined to be the loner.” With his long arm stretched in the air, he gestured at the aged home where he resided alone.
    I rubbed the back of my neck as I cleared my throat. “How old would he have been?”
    “Are you asking my age in a roundabout way, Zoey?”
    I swear I wasn’t. I was just intrigued about the man who haphazardly raised Stenton, the, in turn, solitary man.
    “Stanley, I brought you birthday gifts and cake from my momma’s kitchen, shouldn’t my intentions be clear by now?” I winked flirtatiously.
    His head barreled back and Stanley hooted like I’d never heard him before. I’d been with Stenton’s uncle on several occasions over the past year, the first time was when I was in my last trimester when Stenton brought him over to my parents’ for dinner at my mother’s insistence. It was after we’d made love on my birthday when it was less painful to see him. Then after Stenton and his teammates left Jordan’s christening, my dad agreed to give Stanley a lift home. He came over to my parents’ to spend time with Jordan. He and my father made fast friends...well, as much as was possible with Stanley; he was an anomic and only took company or gave it in small doses. My father, as a flexible man, was okay with that. My mother less so. She didn’t