THE GOOD MISTRESS II: The Wedding

by Amarie Avant

While she got comfortable on the couch, Blake looked up at the dark sky. There were just a handful of stars, which made the Malibu ocean seem lost in oblivion. He felt right about not proposing with another over the top gesture.

  Natural romance would do tonight.

  The glittering diamond fire glass caught a spark as he turned on the gas. The flame shimmied as it caught along the lengthy hearth.

  “What did you buy Zenobia?” Mila asked, comfortably warmed. She held up his glass, which was refreshed with wine.

  He stood before her and held out the box. “Just a little jewelry.”

  Blake almost smiled when he perceived the tiny bout of jealousy in her gaze.

  “Well, damn. You got another woman jewelry. I don’t know if I should be flattered that I have you or a little . . .”

  Her cute voice broke when he flicked open the velvet box. “But this is my ring, Blake,” Mila murmured.

  He got on one knee. “Mila, I could go on forever attempting to gain your hand in marriage and not grow tired of wanting to please you. But you are my dream. We can keep up the proposals—or if you say yes, I don’t mind coming up with another strategic show of romance. Each one would be even better than the last for the next three hundred and sixty-five just because. I declare that no other man in this world will ever work harder to cherish you. Just say yes. Fucking say yes. You have my word that you will forever be my always.”

  Firelight caught on Mila’s face, reflecting on the tears glittering down her cheeks. She was the most beautiful sight. Mila placed a hand on her chest, clearly unable to speak. The moment she nodded Blake climbed onto the couch and lay on top of her, kissing her until she was breathless.

  Mila

  The next morning, Mila woke up to Blake seated in the accent chair across from her. He had a look about him that made her want to throw her legs open.

  Damn it. This was more than him looking at her like she was the last female in the world—after an apocalypse.

  He looked at her like she was . . . She pondered for a moment. Mila smiled as enlightenment dawned on her that he looked at her like she was the only woman in the entire universe. Like Eve to his Adam before other life appeared.

  Warmth burned across her cheeks. He could make a nun blush, and although she was beginning to milk between her thighs, Mila found her voice. “You have your phone. Our staycation has ended?” She almost felt like pouting. Though they hadn’t left for an exotic land these past few days, the arrangement had been no cellphones. She was calling him out.

  He slid the phone into his pocket. “I just posted about you with your ring.”

  “Oh . . . what a photo?”

  “One with you sleeping. Hashtag—sleeping beauty.”

  “Cheat!” She tossed her pillow. He chuckled as it went nowhere near its intended mark.

  “Yeah, well. I’m the happiest man on earth. Can’t keep me quiet. It was just one post, beautiful.” He rose from the chair. “You also agreed that once the ring was on your finger, I could post—”

  “I don’t recall agreeing to—”

  “At The People’s Love Project. You agreed.”

  Mila began to push herself into a seated position. Blake’s hand skimmed along her cheek. He was about to kiss her lips when the doorbell rang.

  “It’s a little early,” Mila said. A look crossed Blake’s face as if he just realized who was at the door.

  “Damn, I’ll go handle that.” Blake headed for the bedroom door.

  “Who is it?”

  “A little surprise I have for you.”

  “Well, since you’re recalling exactly what I said, you said for the next three hundred and sixty-five days that you intended to . . .” Mila was smiling as Blake turned around.

  “Alright, get presentable. This may have been the worst proposal I attempted to pull off.”

  Ten minutes later, his romantic words became a reality.

  Blake had rented two of the most expensive swans in the greater Southern California area because swans mate for life. Mila was surprised and overjoyed. As Blake and Mila walked in the backyard with the beautiful creatures, the pimple-faced teen who should’ve been overseeing the love swans sat, completely absorbed in his cell phone.

  “Blake, this is so thoughtful. I can’t believe you came up with this,” Mila said.

  Before Blake could reply, one of the swans came up and pecked at her foot.

  “Ouch!”

  Even through her light purple house shoe, the damn animal had pressed its beak into her and had drawn blood. To her disbelief, it was making another attempt. Mila screeched as she began to sprint across the vibrant green grass.

  “What the hell?” Blake grabbed at the swan as Mila ran. The swan stayed on her trail.

  “Don’t run!” The chubby teen dropped his cell phone onto the lawn bench and stood up.

  Mila refused to turn around. She headed for the gates of the tennis courts with the swan nipping at her heels.

  “Get it!” Mila screeched.

  “I’m trying!” Blake continued after them. They were about thirty yards out when he finally reached the swan and yanked its feathered body away from Mila.

  Blake’s first day of romance had ended with him wrapping Mila’s scratched up toes in band-aids. They had just taken a shower and were getting dressed for the day when Mila powered up her cell phone. Since Blake had been unable to contain himself and had posted to his millions of followers, the greater portion of the entire world had to know they were officially engaged. At this point, she wanted to at least call her parents and tell them the good news.

  But her phone went off like Fourth of July firecrackers as notifications of missed calls and texts appeared on her phone. One unknown number came up, a few voicemails from her mom, and one call from Yasmin.

  She smiled, pressing the button to listen to her mom’s call. Instead of congratulating Mila on her engagement, her mom was going on about Lido being at a psychiatric facility.

  Her mom’s long voicemail droned on. “Your father is very angry with me for asking about Lido. He continues to say she fought for her independence. Mila, she needs help! Please see to your sister. You and Yasmin and Lido only have each other when I die.”

  Mila tried the other messages from her mother. None of them mentioned her pending nuptials. But in the subsequent voicemails, her mother’s voice became more contrite until eventually, Mrs. Ali began voicing her disappointment in . . . Mila.

  Accustomed to her mother’s response, Mila then clicked on the one voicemail from her oldest sister.

  “Mila? Listen, the psychiatrist keeps calling me. They say that someone needs to come and sign Lido out. I tell him that she should have had a family. Thirty-five years old. No husband. No children to account for. I always say have at least two. If one is a bad seed, at least you can count on the other to take care of you when needed. And the bitch needs it! I tell him that I cannot go to see her. I have a husband who will feed him?” Yasmin’s accent came through extra thick in her irritation. “I have my day filled out for me telling one son to turn off that damned rap and taking the other to ER after he’s learned a new skateboarding stunt. I tell the psychiatrist that a seventy-two-hour hold is laughable. Hell, I’m still laughing at the YouTube video. Lido looked like a caged monkey . . .”

  Yasmin continued to talk to the voicemail system, complaining about how some black folks loved to look like monkeys. The call ended abruptly.

  Mila was astonished. “Thank God the recorder cut her off.”

  She switched over to the YouTube app.

  “Mila.” Blake came into the room.

  “Just a second.” She searched Lido’s name and went to the most recent video. “A monkey, caged in a cab,” she mumbled to herself, agreeing with Yasmin’s assessment. When Mila looked up, she knew that Blake was more than aware of her crazy ass sister’s latest antics.

  “Parker has called a thousand times concerned about Lido.” He seemed to be measuring his words. “A pedestrian
on the street uploaded that. It went viral. There’s nothing we can do.”

  “It’s okay. Lido probably couldn’t give a damn.” Face to the ceiling she took a deep breath. “We should be planning a wedding right now. But it appears that I have to go pick up my sister.”

  “Do you?” The rhetorical question came with more sympathy than she expected. Mila instantly grumbled to herself. This should be about us. Not Lido.

  While she stalled for an answer, Blake more than made up for the situation that had nothing to do with them.

  “I can have the jet ready. You go get your sister. By the time you’re back on California soil, there will be an in-home psychiatrist and his or her staff at Lido’s call.”

  “But . . .” Mila still couldn’t fathom how to respond or react because she could see herself traveling from Los Angeles to the Inland Empire, and way past that, to assist Lido by attending group meetings for her addiction just as Mila had done in the past. What good had come from that?

  He hugged her.

  “I guess the ride will give Yas and me a chance to talk so that we can get this damn wedding over with.” Mila grinned into his arms.

  “The sooner, the better.”

  With a deep inhalation of him, Mila considered. Yasmin had left an extensive voicemail, a verbal thesis of sorts, on why Lido needed to deal with her own mess. A gut-clenching feeling warned her to allow her older sister, Lido, to facilitate her own mess. Mila’s cellphone jiggled in her hands. Mom. She held Blake a moment longer.

  “I’ll have Lamb ready the jet,” Blake mouthed and exited the room.

  “Hello, ma, I just got your messages.”

  “Oh, my beautiful, Mila. Yasmin has refused. I cannot condemn her. Your father is in agreement. My oldest child is just like her father. You will go get Lido? Won’t you?” Mrs. Ali pleaded, much like she did in the first voicemail before she was angry with Mila for not answering soon enough.

  Mila gulped down the lump in her throat. Blake’s proposal had been the sweetest thing, and she’d anticipated telling the story a thousand times. Instead, she responded, “Yes, mother. I’m leaving shortly.”

  “Great. Thank your—well, I was just told Blake is now your fiancé. You are blessed.”

  Mila held onto a wavering smile and mumbled, “Yes, I am.”

  Lido just overshadowed our big “how did he propose” day with her acting psycho on a global scale.

  “Oh, you’re grateful? Sound like it then, Mila.” Her mother cushioned the request with laughter.

  After disconnecting with her mother, and while sprucing up her natural, Mila called Yasmin and placed the phone on speaker.

  “Hello, Mi—Lemuel, turn down that music!” Yasmin yelled in Ethiopian and then readjusted the receiver. “Ready to pick a color and flowers, oh and cake. I’m coming with you to choose the cake.”

  “Sure. I couldn’t do it without you,” Mila added some pep to her voice. “Can you come with me to get—”

  “No.”

  “Yasmin!” She scoffed. “Mom begged you I’m sure of it.”

  “True. Father told me to stand my ground. It is the only way to deal with monkeys. You give their monkey business no attention. They have no reason to play the fool.”

  “You can help me with the rigorous wedding checklist, but you can’t offer a few hours of your time to—”

  “It takes a few hours to get to Lido.”

  “Heifa, it will be a free jet ride. This is the best opportunity to support our sister because, for one, she’s at a treatment facility, and it won’t be us wondering if she’s crazy. The psychiatrist will have placed a diagnosis to our observations.”

  “That’s true, Mila, and a few years ago, I’d have agreed that this scenario was more than wonderful. It’s always draining dealing with Lido on her own. Now, I have to insert the big ‘but’ and say, I’m past giving a damn.”

  We’re on the same page. Mila was conflicted. Only by the grace of God did she consider helping Lido again. But Lido had never been locked up involuntarily. Maybe the doctors would see her sisters as much needed support and include them in Lido’s treatment plan? Lord knew Mila had tried everything but dousing her sister in holy water. For the sake of them not beating a dead horse the same way they had in the past, Mila attempted to appeal to her sister. She said, “You can eat. We can start browsing bridesmaid dresses on the—”

  “Ha! She’s screwing you, you know.”

  “How?” Mila humored her older sister. She was pulling at curlicues at the nape of her neck. She knew it looked like she was trying to ruin her gorgeous natural hair, but she was anxious. She’d done everything she could for Lido, but with the support of a mental health team, this might have been the only solution from the start.

  “The very day the world knows of Blake’s proposal, she . . .” Yasmin stopped speaking to allow Mila to fill in the blank.

  Silence.

  “Dot. Dot. Dot. Sheesh, Mila finish the damn sentence. What did the sharmoto do the very day you and Blake proposed to each other? Mind you, it was the same day that the crazy fool came into your home—the man attempted to—”

  “Yasmin!” Mila snapped. “Parker tossed the idea of us being engaged into the air that day. But Blake and I announced our engagement the next—” Mila glanced into the mirror and saw—

  TODD.

  Jolted, she was up on her feet in seconds. The crystal containers of perfume and other beauty supplies were scattered. Her favorite perfume crashed to the floor.

  Blake hurried into the room. “What’s wrong!” His tone was like a smack, slapping her out of the vivid memory of Todd’s reflection behind her.

  “Hello? Hello?” Yasmin could be heard over the heavy silence.

  Blake stopped, assessing Mila to make sure she was okay and took the phone. “Hello, Yasmin. What is going on?”

  “I’m okay.” Mila spoke up.

  “She’s not,” Yasmin said. “Our father said that she does not need to chase after Lido. You have a right as her husband—future husband—as well. Forbid it.”

  Mila scoffed. “There are certain rights you have in bed, Blake, but that’s not one of them out of it.” Mila took the phone. “Listening to your husband is old world stuff, Yasmin. We are in the States. That means husbands can be wrong. Not that Blake is wrong,” she added. Although he gave her a confused look, he backed off.

  Mila addressed her sister again. “It also means that you don’t have the right to not give a fuck about family. If we were in Ethiopia, the entire family would have gone to wherever Lido was and brought her home. Are we still a whole-family society, Yasmin? Or do we have no qualms about throwing away our sister?”

  “I’ll go!”

  “Sheesh, you’ve never been so quick to agree.”

  “I like that reverse psychology you just did or whatever, as well as you going off. Do that with Lido. Cuss her out, and I’ll plan the entire wedding by myself. It will be the best.” Yasmin quipped. “Have a driver by my house within the hour, or I renege.”

  Blake

  As Blake watched Mila go, he wanted to be his usual selfish self. He wanted to place Mila on a pedestal at the expense of anyone and everyone else. Fuck them all. He loved her. Yet, here they were. Mila was on her way to save her sister, and they were not a single step closer to marriage. He had expected that they would jump right into the planning. But no, Mila was putting her family ahead of their happiness.

  She isn’t shit like Diane, and I love her for it. I’ll be happy. I’ll be patient.

  “You are marrying the woman of your dreams. Sweet. Innocent.” Blake told himself. “Good and perfectly trained in the fucking sack. Pep the fuck up.”

  An hour later, Blake balled up a piece of paper and tossed it across the room.

  “Ephraim, what the fuck? I’m not giving that old bastard in the Convertible ten mil. It’s laughable!”

  “You said not to low ball.”

  “I did.” He rubbed his face. “The jogger, man. I f
elt bad for scaring her. Those fuckers in their cars? Well, they were warned. Insurance can pay for any damages. Do they have doctor bills?”

  “You didn’t hit them hard enough. Now that we have an understanding. Doctor bills only. I’ll have PIs on the case if they try to play the ‘whiplash’ card. So far, any real injury is improbable. But we see eye to eye, now.”

  “Good. And the jogger?”

  “Shampoo heiress. She was more than ecstatic that you were on the way to save Mila. Parker spilling the beans about your engagement worked wonders there. The BMW guy said he’d have his insurance deal with it too. He was sympathetic as well.”

  “There was one more car. The jackass actually tried to sneak past the runner while making a turn. I clipped him.”

  “Yeah, well, the only damages he’s seeking is to that of his car. Honor code. Just the old fuck wants to go out in style. But, like I said, his attorney hasn’t submitted medical bills yet.”

  MILA

  “Remember that time you told me that Lido dropped her clothes in front of Blake?” Yasmin asked as she sat on the soft leather seat, champagne in hand.

  A haze of gray clouds zipped by. Raindrops glided along the jet windows so swiftly that they caused little tiny water streams. Mila turned away from the gloomy weather to address her oldest sister.

  “I just asked your ass why you’re sitting here all high and mighty like you own the joint, and that’s the first thing out of your mouth?”

  “It was during the time Veronica was through with her. You were taking Lido to different substance abuse courses, attending group counseling with her. Driving that sharmoto from Los Angeles to the IE for substance abuse counseling because she kept getting kicked out for misbehavior.” Yasmin went on without stopping.

  “Yasmin, I did not ask you to accompany me because I wanted a history lesson.”

  “Well, I’m not here to preach, Mila. I am simply here to make sure you do not make mistakes once we cross paths with Lido. You just started the first day of the rest of your life when you finally accepted Blake’s proposal. You’re getting married, right?”