by Pamela Yaye
A light breeze drifted in through the open window. It was another cool autumn day. The sky was free of clouds, the midday sun dazzled. Closing her eyes, she rested back in her chair. All she needed was ten minutes of peace and quiet, then she could tackle the pile of progress reports cluttering her desk. These days, she could barely finish her work before Niobie was bringing her more. Not only had her assistant updated her look, she had buckled down at the office, too. She arrived early, had coffee brewing by the time Yasmin walked through the door and, since finding out about the baby, stocked the cupboards with gummy bears and chocolate bars for when Yasmin was craving sweets.
As she rubbed a hand over her stomach, her thoughts turned to Rashawn. A month had passed since she had told him about the baby. Four long, painful weeks. No visits, no phone calls, not even a measly text message. Sighing, she rubbed the tenderness out of her lower back. What she wouldn’t do for one of Rashawn’s massages. He had the strong, skilled hands of a masseur and knew when and where to apply pressure. As she kneaded the knot in her neck, she wondered how he was doing, and if he had thought about her and the baby during his thirty-day absence.
Last Saturday, she had crawled into bed with the intention of watching his match, but ten minutes into the fight, she was sleeping. The following morning, she had caught the highlights on ESPN. Everyone from the newscaster to the local sports columnist said Rashawn had been robbed of the belt but that didn’t change the facts. Two out of three judges scored the fight for Garcia and the Mexican phenom was still the WBC champion.
Her office door creaked open.
Groaning in mock disgust, Yasmin slid down lower in her leather chair. “Niobie, quit bringing me work!” she joked, rubbing her heavy eyes. “Don’t you remember how tired you were when you were pregnant with Miles?”
Someone chuckled. “I’m having déjà vu, except you’re not butchering an Anthony Hamilton song.”
Her eyes flipped open. “Rashawn?”
“Don’t look so surprised. It hasn’t been that long since we saw each other.”
“No, no, that’s not it.”
“It’s the bruises, right?” He touched a hand to his swollen cheek. “It’ll heal.”
She hastened to explain, “No, that’s not it. You look great. You always do.”
“I should be the one handing out compliments. I couldn’t imagine you ever looking more beautiful, but you do. You’re glowing, Doc.”
“It’s a good thing you can’t see me from behind,” she said, her voice rich with humor. “These days, everything I eat goes straight to my hips.”
Rashawn wore a lopsided grin. “How’s our baby?”
Her mouth shaped into a smile. “The baby is just fine. I had my first ultrasound on Monday. I was trying to figure out the gender, but baby wouldn’t cooperate. The little one was wiggling and squirming all over the place. The technician said it’s much too soon to tell the sex anyway.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about the appointment?” He was quick to add, “I would’ve liked to see the baby, too.”
“Oh, I didn’t know. I assumed you wouldn’t be interested…next time,” she said, standing. “I’ll have another one at twenty-four weeks. I’ll make sure to give you a call.”
His smile returned. “Cool.” His gaze passed over her lips, then slid down her chest. Rashawn fought the overwhelming desire to be close to her. Instead of reaching out and twisting one of her braids around his finger, he reached into his back pocket. “I came here to give you this.”
Yasmin stared down at the small gold envelope in his outstretched hand. She took it, careful not to touch his fingers. There was no telling what would happen if she did. The last time they’d been in kissing distance, they’d had explosive, mind-numbing sex. As much as she desired him, she wasn’t going to make a habit of falling into bed with him. No matter how good it was. “What’s this?”
“Open it and you’ll see.”
She did. “Join me on Saturday, December First, at the Laurdel Lounge.” Yasmin felt the sting of tears as she finished reading.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, watching her. “Is it the baby?”
Shaking her head, she smiled softly. “No. It’s just that…my birthday’s on Saturday.” Her voice was a whisper. “You forgot, didn’t you?”
“My bad.” His smile was apologetic. “I’ll make it up to you. I swear.”
“No need,” she said, feeling silly for getting emotional. Back when they were dating, he’d promised to take her to Paris to celebrate and now her birthday meant nothing to him. There was a time when he drew her bathwater, massaged her feet and cuddled her in his arms. Now, those occasions were a distant memory, shrouded in regret. To alleviate the mood, she joked, “These days my hormones are so out of whack, I cry during Hallmark commercials.”
“What are your plans?”
“Katherine and I are going to dinner. Then, we might check out that new dessert café that opened beside the civic center.”
“Cool. Swing by my party before you go.”
“What’s the occasion?” she asked, flipping over the card over to the back.
“I didn’t win the Garcia fight, but I have a lot to be thankful for. I want you there, Doc. You and the baby.”
“Really? Why the sudden change of heart? I haven’t heard from you since the night we…since I told you about the baby.” Giving voice to her frustration, she told him what a distressful time the last four weeks of her pregnancy had been. “While you were in Las Vegas living it up with your friends, I was here, alone, battling severe morning sickness.”
He saw the hurt in her eyes and searched his mind for the right words. “I’m sorry the baby’s been giving you such a hard time.”
“Sure you are. That’s why you haven’t been around the past month.”
Angry at himself for neglecting her and the physical barrier between them, he came around the desk and placed his hands lovingly around her waist. “I’m here, now, Yasmin, and I’m not going anywhere.”
His breath tickled her ear and for a moment she forgot what they were talking about. Rashawn stared down at her, a lazy grin between his scrumptious lips. His smile brightened the entire office and the scent of his aftershave induced thoughts of the last time thay’d made love. It wasn’t his touch, his kiss or the delicious warmth of his body that she missed, it was what happened after. Lying in each other’s arms, swapping stories, laughing until the sun peeked over the horizon. That was what she missed most.
“Doc, you’re right, I should have been here. I wanted to come to see you sooner, but I didn’t think you wanted to see me.”
Turning away, Yasmin focused her gaze on one of the clown-fish in the aquarium. After a beat, she returned her eyes to his face. Rashawn seemed to be deep in thought. Time lapsed. In the silence, she chastised herself for coming down so hard on him. It wasn’t his fault her back hurt. Boxing was his dream, his life, his livelihood and she had no right to make him feel guilty for doing what he loved. Even if it had taken him away from her. “I’m sorry I snapped at you. I’ve had nothing to eat but soup and soda crackers the past few days and I’m kind of crabby,” she confessed.
“No problem. From what my brothers’ girlfriends tell me, pregnancy isn’t nearly as glamorous as celebrities make it look.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
Rashawn chyckled. “So, does that mean you’ll come?”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Aw, come on. You can do better than that.” Touching a hand to her warm cheek, he bent down so close his mouth grazed her ear. “You’re not going to make me beg, are you, Doc?”
Yasmin laughed. “I can’t say no to my baby’s daddy, now can I? If you want us there, then we’ll be there.”
“That’s all I am to you? Your baby’s daddy?”
It was a trick question. If she said no, he’d think she wanted more from him and if she said yeas, she’d be denying her true feelings. Yasmin never imagined that expression
would come out of her mouth, but until he stepped up to the plate, that’s all he was: her baby’s daddy. “It’s not for me to decide who you are—it’s for you to decide,” she said, her eyes challenging him to disagree with her.
“Fair enough.”
“Do you mind if I invite—”
“It’s already been taken care of. I sent out invitations to your family, your friends and everyone at the community center.”
“That’s very generous of you.”
He winked. “That’s just the kind of guy I am.” Before Yasmin could protest, Rashawn bent down and kissed her. Instinctively, she arched toward him. The kiss did more than heat her body; it touched the deepest, most intimate part of her soul. Angling her head to the right, she returned his fervor a hundred-fold, gently stroking the back of his head. Wishing they could stay like this forever, she snuggled comfortably against his hard chest. But before Yasmin had her fill of him, he ended the kiss. Hiding her disappontment, she stared up at him, a small, rueful smile on her lips.
“You taste even better than I remember,” he whispered, pressing his lips against her forehead. “I’ll see you—” he put a hand on her stomach “—and you on Saturday. Don’t be late, Doc. I’ll be waiting.”
“This party’s going to be off the hook!” Imani announced excitedly, stepping out of Yasmin’s SUV. “There are stretch limos lined up for blocks!”
“Maybe I’ll finally get to meet Roy Jones, Jr.” Katherine adjusted her strapless dress to reveal more cleavage. “I heard he has a thing for older women.”
Morgan shook her head. “You don’t want to go there, cousin. I know things about him you wouldn’t believe. Girl, he’s too much for you to handle!”
Yasmin activated the car alarm and fell in step with Imani, Katherine and Morgan.
“I’m so glad Rashawn invited us.” Imani linked arms with her sister, a bright smile on her plump lips. “We’re going to have a great time tonight, Yassie. I can feel it.”
“I sure hope so.” She smoothed a hand over her powder-blue gown. Hoping to impress Rashawn and feeling better than she had in weeks, she had selected a silk empire waist dress that flowed gracefully over her hips and down her legs. “After everything that’s happened between us, I’m kind of nervous about seeing him tonight. What if he has a date? Or spends the entire night ignoring me?”
Katherine sent her a smile. “Try not to worry, Yasmin. Rashawn’s going to take good care of you. He always does.”
The hostess greeted them at the entrance. “Good evening, ladies. Which one of you is Dr. Yasmin Ohaji?”
Confused, she touched a hand to her chest. “I’m Yasmin. Is there a problem?”
Smiling, she reached behind the stand and handed her a bouquet of flowers. There had to be at least fifty long-stemmed white roses. Inhaling, Yasmin buried her nose in the package. The sweet, heady scent was intoxicating.
“They’re beautiful.” After reading the card, she turned to Imani, Katherine and Morgan, who were all wearing envious smiles. “They’re from Rashawn! He remembered my birthday,” she gushed, her voice bubbling with excitement.
“Please, follow me,” the hostess said.
Yasmin stepped into the lounge. Helium balloons, satin streamers and a banner that read Congratulations hung from the walls. As they entered the main dining room, she noted the oversize flower arrangements, the flaming red tablecloths and the gold-plated china. The soft flickering of floating candles, the dizzying perfume of champagne and the crystal chandeliers reeked class and grace.
“The Laurdel Lounge must have new management,” she said, taking in the elegant décor, “because I don’t remember it ever looking this good.”
Singing along with the Anthony Hamilton song playing, she smiled to herself. “Fallin’ in Love Again” was her favorite song. The one that had been playing the afternoon Rashawn had burst into her office posing as a new client. It was hard for her to believe they’d only known each other for nine months. It seemed like years had passed since their first date.
“Where’s everybody?” she asked out loud. “There are so many cars outside I figured this place would be packed.” Her confusion deepened when she heard Rashawn’s sleepy, bedroom voice behind her.
“From the moment I saw you, I was at a loss for words, and not just because you were about to take on a table full of thugs by yourself.” His reference to their infamous meeting brought chuckles and giggles from guests.
Yasmin spun around. Her parents, her friends, his family and a hundred or so other people were all wearing smiles, smirks and grins. Glancing around the sea of familiar faces, she saw her father nod, Ms. Bishop wave and Niobie mouthing the word breathe.
“I had that crazy, this-could-be-the-one feeling. And as hard as I tried, I couldn’t shake it.” The crowd parted, and Rashawn emerged. His cornrows were gone and had been replaced with short subtle waves. Without the braids, he looked older, more mature, distinguished even. His tailored milk-white suit was a perfect fit. The swelling in his face had receded, the cut above his eye had healed and he looked more like himself and less like a human punching bag. “Yasmin, you’re everything I could ever want in a woman and far more than I deserve.”
He walked tall, proud, confident, and stopped in front of her. His scent held power, energy, charisma, and every time Yasmin inhaled it, her thoughts turned to mush. “What are you trying to say, Rashawn?”
Mystified by the sound of his voice, she could only watch as he took her hand in his and squeezed gently. He looked at her expectantly, and when she didn’t respond, he said, “What do you think, Doc?”
Gulping a mouthful of air, she gave herself a moment to collect her thoughts. This was all fine and great, but did he mean it or was there something else going on? “Did my parents put you up to this?” she asked, wanting to make sense of his sudden change of heart. Things didn’t add up and Yasmin had an awful feeling her family was behind his impromptu proposal. “My dad talked you into marrying me, didn’t he?”
“You should know me better than that.” His tone was light, but she heard the disappointment in his voice. “No one put me up to anything. I want to marry you because it’s what I want to do.”
“Is this about the baby?” Yasmin heard the ripple of chatter and saw the bewildered looks on the faces of their families and friends, but she didn’t let that deter her from speaking her mind. There would be plenty of time to explain later; right now she had to get to the bottom of things. “If you’re proposing because of the baby—”
“It’s not like that, Doc.”
“Then what’s it like?” she asked, trying to keep the hostility out of her voice. “I want you to marry me because you love me, not because you feel obligated.”
“I’m not gonna lie. I was scared when you told me you were pregnant. I didn’t think I was ready to be a husband and a father.” He paused, drawing a deep breath. “I was overwhelmed by the responsibility of it all, but when I thought about you and the baby, I realized there was only one thing to do. I love you and I want us to be a family.”
As much as she loved him and the idea of being his wife, she didn’t want to trap him into a relationship or rush headfirst into marriage without thinking things through. “I love you, too, Rashawn, but are you sure this is what you want? Marriage is—”
He shushed her with a finger to the lips. “Yasmin, I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” Sensing her hesitation and worried the night wouldn’t go as planned, he took her hands in his. They were cold and clammy and trembling ever so lightly. He sent her a smile of reassurance. “Yasmin, you’re strong and independent and loyal, but what I love most about you is that you’ve never looked down on me or where I come from. You’re not motivated by money or greed and you keep me in line.” Rashawn knew his brothers would clown him for getting all sentimental, but he wanted Yasmin to be his wife and he’d stop at nothing to have her. Leaning so close he could smell her cinnomon scented lip gloss, he held her gaze for several se
conds. “At the end of the day, there’s no one else I’d rather be with than you.”
Touched by the sincerity of his words, Yasmin could scarcely speak. “What about boxing?” she asked, searching his eyes for the truth. “Are you going to continue fighting?”
“I’ve decided to take a year off so I can take care of you and the baby.”
“What happens in a year?”
“I’ll reevaluate my career and then we’ll decide together if I should return to the ring. Does that sound fair?”
“Sounds fair to me, bro!” Armondo yelled, drawing chuckles from the boxing fans in attendance.
“Anymore questions?” Rashawn asked, grinning down at Yasmin. “Or can I get on with my proposal?”
Yasmin’s heart rattled around in her chest. Praying that she wouldn’t faint, she watched Rashawn drop to one knee. A collective gasp rose as he pulled a ring box from his front pocket. Vowing to make her the happiest woman alive, Rashawn took her left hand and slipped the ring up the base of her fourth finger.
“I know it’s not Paris, but we can always go there on our honeymoon.”
The women in the crowd purred like kittens.
“Yasmin Ohaji, would you allow me the honor of being your husband and make my life complete by becoming my wife?”
The silence was loud.
Yasmin studied the diamond the way a meteorologist studies the sky. It was the ring she had always dreamed of, a three-carat emerald-cut diamond. But how did he know? Unless…a quick glance at Imani, Katherine and Morgan verified her suspicions. They had all been in on the surprise.
“Doc, please?” His voice was bare, vulnerable, stripped of pride. “I’m begging you. Do it for me, do it for our baby, do it for us.”
“I’ll never forget this moment. All of my dreams have come true,” she whispered, cupping his face in her hands. “I have you and the baby. What more could I want?”
