“That’s good to know.”
In the state I was in, I couldn’t tell if he was annoyed or disappointed by my answer, and I was too tired to be worried about it either way.
“Did you want kids?”
“I never considered them. Honestly, I wasn’t sure if I’d ever be in a position to have them. If you would have said you wanted more then I’d give you as many as you want but hearing that you don’t doesn’t affect me in a negative way. Besides, before we even start to think about babies, we need to get to know each other better or at least longer than a day.”
No matter how true that was, it was an interesting comment coming from a man who’d proposed marriage to a complete stranger. I wanted to ask him about that, to get clarity, but just as I started to answer him, I let out a huge yawn that wouldn’t be suppressed and made my eyes water, and my exhaustion made me shorten my response. “Ouu eye.”
“Uh…what?”
As soon as it passed I groaned. “You’re right.”
His laugh sounded low and husky to my ears. “Alright, you’re halfway asleep already so I’ll let you go.”
“Mmkay.”
He wasn’t getting any argument out of me.
“See you soon,” was his reply and the thought of seeing him again excited me, but I was too far gone to ask what he meant by “soon”. I hummed something that hopefully sounded like “Okay” and, managing to plug my phone up and drop it on the nightstand, I was asleep moments after my head hit the pillow.
Chapter Eight
When You're Never Too Cool To Be Nervous
The decision to head to Houston instead of returning to Mexico, or even flying home with J and Lisa, was an easy one. My baby brother, Hawk, and our cousin Boobie—who was something like a Jack-Of-All-Trades for Hawk, serving as his bodyguard, personal trainer, one-man entourage, and living, breathing reminder of home—were flying with the Clutch on a chartered flight going nonstop to the Bayou City. Thankfully, it hadn’t been too difficult to snag a seat aboard the mid-size airliner. My bones hummed in anticipation of seeing Tonya again, and I spent the three hour-flight in a state of meditation, clearing my mind so that I could manifest a positive reception from one Latonya Sharí Black.
“What are you about to get into?” Hawk asked, turning to me as soon as they picked up their bags from the revolving carousel. “And don’t tell me ‘nothing’. I know damn well you didn’t hop a plane to Houston just to chill at the house with us.”
An image of thick, black hair pulled into a messy bun popped into my head and I grinned.
Hawk elbowed Boobie and tossed his chin in my direction. “See? That right there lets me know something is up.”
Boobie nodded. “Yeah,” he drawled. “Must be a woman.”
Lips sealed tighter than Fort Knox, I shook my head with a laugh, hiking the strap of my duffel higher on my shoulder.
“Alright, Watson and Sherlock Homeboy. I’m just going to stop by your place and pick up my car.”
Hawk stared at me like I was a puzzle he was trying to decipher.
With raised eyebrows, Boobie folded his arms across his wide chest. “Your car? You rarely pull that thing out of Hawk’s garage. How long are you planning to stay in town?”
That depended on Tonya, but I wasn’t going to tell these two that. “I’m not sure, but I’ll definitely catch up with y’all before I jet out of here. Believe that.”
Hawk let it ride, used to and fully understanding my need for privacy. Boobie, however, attempted to pull more information out of me the entire drive to Hawk’s home outside of Houston proper. His wild guesses had us cracking up to the point of tears and sore ribs. Once we pulled onto Hawk’s property, I didn’t even bother going inside, my desire to be face-to-face with Tonya not allowing me to waste one second doing anything but making my way to her.
After once again assuring my family that I would catch up with them later, I slapped hands with both of them and jumped behind the wheel of my pearl-white Benz coupe. It didn't take me long to reach the neighborhood that housed my destination. It was obvious that this was an older part of town by the way the streets became narrower and the façades on the buildings took on more character—more individuality. I passed a sign that implored me to “Drive Like Your Kids Live Here” and immediately eased my car down to the lower speed limit, allowing me to get a good look at the businesses around me. The streets were lined with people going in and out of them, and there weren’t many storefronts that were unoccupied.
The first thing that caught my eye was a brightly colored marquee calling my attention to a costume jewelry store, followed by an old-fashioned candy store, which was surprisingly open this early in the morning. A consignment shop had pieces of furniture on the sidewalk in front of their window, and a man in spandex stood in front of a personal gym handing out flyers to passersby. The grocery store caught my eye because a colorful display of stacked produce in crates in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows stood out, as did the handful of people picking through the assorted fruits and vegetables. The awning that spanned the entire sidewalk footprint of the store read Ben’s Groceries. It wasn't a major chain, and although it spanned the space equivalent to four businesses on the opposite side of the street, it didn't look to be very big.
Luck was on my side because just as Black Coffee came into my view, a vehicle backed out of a parking space right in front, and I was able to slide right on in. The coffee shop was at the end of the strip with tinted windows covering the entire front of the building, and small metal tables and chairs bookending the double glass doors. Following the sidewalk to the right of the building opened up to a large patio behind the café, dotted with several tables and chairs under large umbrellas, and protected from the street by an L-shaped fence of tall hedges.
The clock on my dashboard had just struck eleven as I shut off the engine and entered the building whose smells were prominent even from the sidewalk. Stepping inside, I welcomed the air conditioning and was immediately surprised by the amount of people I saw there. I’d have thought this would be something like a slow time, but there was a line of about four people standing near the countertop where a large, painted sign hanging from the ceiling instructed everyone to order here. There were several people sitting in the leather-upholstered armchairs dotted around the room. In the right-hand corner of the room, occupying two tables was a handful of older men laughing loudly while playing board games.
Moving further into the building from where I had stopped in front of the door, I took a moment to glance around and observe my surroundings, checking out the space that Tonya had spoken about with pride laced in her voice and etched on her face. This was her family’s business, the only job she’d ever worked, and the one she planned to pass down to her son. The few walls that weren't occupied by floor-to-ceiling windows were covered in large black and white photos of families in various stages of serving coffee. Upon closer look, they all seemed to capture the same five people—a man, woman, and three young girls. The blare of a brass horn brought my attention to the music playing. It was neither quiet nor loud and although I couldn’t make out every word due to the noise level, it sounded like some of Motown's greatest hits.
The whole vibe of the shop was real relaxing and dare I say—homey—and before I knew it, the nervous energy that I had unknowingly carried in with me on my back began to melt away.
As I made my way up to the register, a familiar face came into view and a grin tugged at my lips. Natasha waved me over from her perch behind one of the two registers at the counter.
“Well, well, well. If it isn't my new brother-in-law.” She cocked her head to the side. “You're late.”
Out of habit, I glanced down at my watch, even though I had no idea what she meant by that. “I got here as soon as I could.” This time of day, the traffic in the city was near nonexistent, but it was still more than a thirty-minute drive from Hawk’s home.
“You just missed Tonya. She left about an hour and a h
alf ago, but that's okay because now you have the opportunity to introduce yourself to our daddy. He didn’t work today but unless he’s in the bed sick, can’t nothing keep him away from here. Listen, I'm not sure how the two of you planned to make these introductions, but let me tell you, things will go much smoother if you go ahead and take the opportunity right now.”
That made me pause. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about meeting Tonya's parents—her whole family, honestly—and in fact, it was something that I had lain awake considering long after she and I had finished our conversation last night.
“Okay,” I said to the woman I’d only seen twice but whose vibe gave off trustworthiness that couldn’t be faked. “I trust that you wouldn't lead me astray, so point me in the right direction. Where is Mr. Black?”
Natasha smiled and angled her chain to my right. I followed her gaze to the group of older men playing board games that I'd noticed when I first walked in. Just then, a peal of laughter shot up from the group and the sound made my own smile widen.
“He's right over there.”
Rapping my knuckles on the countertop, I nodded my thanks and headed in the pointed direction. When I was a few steps away, I realized the men were playing a rousing game of checkers. They were laughing and joking and slapping the quarter-sized pieces down on the thin board so hard I would have thought they were playing dominoes if I had simply heard and not seen them. Probably the best thing about the image in front of me was the fact that none of the other patrons in the room seemed to have a problem with them or how loud they were. There were at least four people in the room scattered around, typing on laptops, writing in notebooks, or reading on their eReaders. Some bobbing their heads to whatever was coming out of their headphones and yet no one cast any furtive glances over at the seven men or the stack of aged board games that sat on the table next to them.
Once I reached the table, it occurred to me that I had no idea which one of these men was Tonya's father. They were all varying shades of brown, but with us as a people spanning the color spectrum, skin tone wasn’t enough of a clue to confirm paternity. As I stood there silently observing them, a few of the men acknowledged me with a head nod or a short greeting, and I tried to wait until there was a pause and their conversation before speaking up.
“Excuse me, gentlemen. I hate to interrupt but would any of you be able to tell me where I might be able to find Mr. Black?”
I saw a few raised eyebrows as the men also shot glances at each other. Finally, with his eyes on the board, one of the men spoke up. His short afro was peppered with a generous sprinkling of salt at his temples, and the scruff above his lip was a matching tangle of wisdom.
“Well now,” he began, his deep southern accent sounding straight out of the Delta, “that depends on who's looking.”
I rubbed at my hairless chin. “His son-in-law is who’s looking.”
Low murmurs rippled throughout the group, and one of the men who sat behind the first man who’d spoken to me looked me over with a smirk on his hairless face.
“Well, son. Thanks to our daddy, we’re all named Mr. Black, so you’re gonna have to be just a bit more specific.”
Oh, shit. With this new information, I looked the men over, eyes roving from face to face, and where I initially hadn’t noticed anything but their complexions, I now observed distinct similarities. These men were Tonya’s uncles and her father. I was definitely getting more than I bargained for when I walked into this establishment.
“My wife’s name is Latonya Sharí.”
The man with the white temples sat back in his seat and stared at the man who sat across the checkerboard from him with wide eyes.
“What the hell? Cyrus, you mean to tell me one of them gals done went off and got married and you couldn't even invite me to the damn wedding?!”
“Shit, Cepheus. You know better than that mess.”
My eyes flew to the other man at the table to see him roll his eyes annoyingly before they landed—unsurprisingly—on me. I had the attention of all seven men sitting in their little cluster. Cyrus? Was this Tanya's father? He was the darkest in the bunch with a hue near my own and sporting a full, kinky afro that reached eight inches toward the heavens.
The man's arms had been folded across his chest while he watched Cepheus make his move in the game, and maybe, initially, it was meant to help him concentrate, but now that his gaze was turned on me, the stance looked sort of intimidating. His narrowed eyes—the same shade of brown as his daughter’s—peered up at me, and I returned his stare unflinchingly, waiting for his next move. I didn't have to wait long. A moment later, he turned to one of the other men in the group.
“Earl, gon’ finish up this game for me, will ya?”
Earl—the only man at the table whose hair didn’t have a lick of gray—rubbed his hands together, and he nodded slowly with a silly grin on his face.
“You done fucked up now, Cepheus.”
Cyrus stood from the table and announced that he would be right back.
“Follow me,” was the only thing he said before moving in the direction of a side door that led to the patio without even looking back to ensure that I was following. He pushed open the heavy, glass door and stepped outside into the warm sunshine, propping the door open for me to exit behind him.
“Have a seat,” he instructed.
I pulled out a chair at the table he indicated and waited for him to do the same. For some reason, my heart thumped with that nervous energy I thought I had expelled inside the building. I couldn’t remember if I’d ever had to speak to a girl's father, coming from a town where just about everyone we cared to know already knew who we were, or at least knew our parents; it was never really necessary. More importantly, by the time I reached the age of any type of serious relationship, I was well past the stage of having to meet a girl's father before taking her out for dinner or to the movies or even just back to my place so we could fuck. This interaction was new for me on more than one account. We stared at each other for a moment before he leaned back in his seat and splayed his hand in front of him.
“Well?” he asked. “You were looking for me for a reason. Here I am.”
My mind was suddenly blank. Anything I might have thought of saying had dissipated within the blink of an eye. I opened my mouth anyway, prepared to state my case and promptly began choking on air.
“Damn,” I said, laughing while I pounded on my chest to clear my airway from the nothing that was there. Wonder of wonders, I was more nervous than could have predicted. Shit. This wasn’t going well at all. I probably looked like a fool in this man’s eyes. I knew my initial meeting with Tonya’s parents wouldn’t be a walk in the park because of the length of time that we knew each other before uniting, but I didn’t expect to come across so goofy like this. Dragging a hand down my face, I decided to just throw all pretenses out of the window and pull on that positivity I had sought a higher power for.
“How are you doing today, sir?”
His expression was impassive. “I can't complain.”
“Well, that's always a good thing.” I licked my lips nervously then just spat it out. “My name is Jareth Hawkins and yesterday, your oldest daughter and I got married in Las Vegas.”
His eyebrows rose and he folded his arms across his chest, similar to how he’d been sitting at the table inside, but he didn't say a word, so I continued.
“We haven't really discussed how to share the news with our families—didn’t really have a chance to—since things moved so fast, but with you and I both here at the same time, I didn't see any reason to pass up the opportunity to speak with you personally.”
Cyrus stared at me, silently processing my confession before cocking his head to the side and shooting rapid-fire questions in my direction.
“Where are you from? Who are your people? Why have I never heard your name or any mention of you before last night?”
“Well, until yesterday, Tonya and I had never met, so there wasn’t
anything to mention.”
Thick brows furrowed over dark brown eyes. “What do you mean ‘you never met’? How did you get married if you'd never met before?”
Shit. Here it goes.
“Well, sir, I suppose the easiest way to explain it would be to just tell the truth. I was introduced to Tonya early Sunday morning by her sister Latoya, and after a few hours of conversation, I asked her to marry me. She agreed and we obtained a marriage license soon after and did just that, with her sisters and her cousin—along with my older brother—as our witnesses.
He stared at me, eyes narrowed and mouth gaped open in disbelief.
“Are you pulling my leg?”
I shook my head. “Not at all, sir. Those are the facts.”
“You're going to have to help me understand this, son. Help me understand why a man would ask a perfect stranger to marry him. Was this for some reality show or a prank on the tube or some mess like that?”
My laugh was short and tinged with desperation. With how much I knew that Tonya cherished family, I needed this man to be okay with this. “No, sir. Although, now, I kind of wish it was. At least then people would have an easier time understanding what happened.” I sighed, resting both of my hands on the table and meeting Cyrus’s gaze. “I can't speak for all men, but for me, personally, I follow my intuition. I trust my gut on almost everything and not even ten minutes after sitting down and conversing with Tonya, I knew that she was meant for me. My father used to tell me and my brothers the story of how he and my mother met and how their relationship came to be, and one thing that he used to impress upon us was the idea of a soulmate, the person for whom our soul would see a reflection of itself, affectionately called ‘The One’.
To Break a Vow Page 6
