A Lowcountry Bride

by Preslaysa Williams

  Chapter Thirteen

  After Derek and Maya parted ways, he recounted their kiss over and over and over. He enjoyed kissing her, and she returned the gesture.

  More than returned it. She kissed him deeply. Derek wanted to stay rooted in that moment, that goodness. Derek wanted to hold on to it with everything in him, but now that he was alone in his truck, all he could hear were Maya’s hurts, Maya’s fears, and Maya’s insecurities.

  She was scared. Derek was scared too.

  His warring thoughts rose to the surface. Yes, death was an inevitable fact of life, but Maya could die earlier than him. Did he want to experience the pain of that loss again? Did he want to witness Jamila experiencing the grief again?

  It was just a date, Derek, a date and one kiss. Don’t make too much of it.

  He wouldn’t push things further with Maya. This was something he needed to take slow, and so while he’d love to ask Maya out on a second date, he wouldn’t ask Maya unless she brought it up. Besides, Maya was still returning to New York shortly after Heather’s wedding.

  Don’t make too much of the date.

  Derek pulled into the garage of his house and headed inside. He needed to get some rest and ready himself for the next business day.

  Once inside the house, the faint sound of the television floated from the living room. He checked his watch. It was way past Jamila’s bedtime.

  Upset, he headed to the television. Jamila sat on the lumpy couch with the remote control in hand, watching cartoons. The TV blared. The eagerness in Jamila’s eyes told Derek he wasn’t getting rest any time soon. “Why are you still up? Where’s Ginger?” Derek asked.

  “She fell asleep in the den. I couldn’t sleep.” Jamila pressed the Mute button, and the television stopped blaring.

  The expectation in her made him uncomfortable. Jamila was definitely invested in this date.

  “You should be in bed, miss. We have rules.”

  “I know, but I couldn’t go to sleep because I was excited about your date. So where’d you guys go, Dad?”

  “To the botanical gardens.”

  “I love that place. How was the date?”

  “It went okay.”

  “Okay? That’s it? Did you kiss her?” Jamila smiled.

  He didn’t answer.

  “You did kiss her! You did!”

  “Hey. Hey. Hey.” Derek put his hands up. “I know she gave you a sewing machine, and she’s going to help you with your project and all, but kissing? Why are you so concerned with kissing? You’re twelve.”

  “You’re just avoiding my question, trying to put it on my age. You obviously like Maya.” Jamila reached to the other side of the couch and grabbed her boar bristle brush and detangling spray. “That’s why I was so annoyed with you at the beginning.”

  “So a sewing machine won you over?” He chuckled.

  “More than the sewing machine. She seems to understand how I feel about losing Mom and Grandma.”

  “Of course she would. She’s had a similar experience.” Derek leaned against the doorjamb and crossed his arms. “And you think that makes her kiss-worthy?” he asked, a teasing note in his voice.

  “Something like that.” Jamila unraveled one braid and started brushing the ends.

  “All right. It’s time for us to get some sleep. You shouldn’t be up so late, so—”

  “Can you do my hair?”

  Do her hair? Jamila had never asked her father to do her hair before, never ever. “Excuse me?”

  She brushed it in jagged strokes. “It’s all tangly and I can’t reach the back. Can you help, Dad? Please.”

  He had no idea how to do Jamila’s hair. Since she wouldn’t let him touch her strands, Derek never learned. What if he royally messed this one up?

  “Ouch!” Jamila’s eyes squeezed shut as she tugged her brush through another tangle.

  Okay, she was in pain. “I’ll help. But don’t expect anything magical. I’m a newbie at this.” Derek headed her way, and she handed him the brush.

  Her curls were coarse and thick, just like Grace’s hair. She always styled Jamila’s hair in intricate braids and twists. Right now, he was trying to get through the first step of detangling her hair, but where should he start?

  “Start from the bottom of my hair and then work your way up to my scalp,” Jamila said, as if reading his mind.

  “All righty.”

  The cartoons played in the background, and the glare from the TV screen shone on their faces, keeping Derek awake.

  “Remember when Mama used to do my hair?” Jamila asked.

  His heart pinched, and he swallowed the thickness gathering in his throat. “I remember.”

  “She was so good with my hair. Had the fastest fingers for braiding and twisting too. I used to fight getting my hair combed by Mama, and she used to fuss at me for it.” Jamila sighed. “Now I wish she were here. I wish I hadn’t been so resistant.”

  A wave of love washed over him. Jamila was apologizing in her own little way. “I wish she were here too.”

  “She’d probably laugh if she saw you detangling my hair now.”

  Derek stopped brushing. “Why is that, jokester?”

  Jamila shrugged. “Cuz you never did my hair. You always looked at my hair like it was a big old mess.”

  He leaned around to face her. “Where’d you get that idea?”

  “From your face. That’s how you looked at my hair.” Jamila twisted her mouth. “Don’t matter, though. It’s a nappy ol’ mess. Maybe one day I’ll get a relaxer.”

  Oh God. Here she was forming her value by her hair. What could he say? Grace was always the one who did the hair and the clothes. He didn’t want his daughter to think her natural hair was subpar. “Baby girl, I never thought your hair was a mess. I’m sorry if you ever felt that way about me. You never let me do your hair.”

  “Because you looked at it like it was a disaster. Sometimes you’d be side-eyeing me while Mama was doing my hair.”

  “That’s because you’d be screaming so loud while she was combing it. Not because I don’t like your hair.” Derek wrapped his arm around her. “I think it’s beautiful just as it is.”

  She was quiet, and then: “Like I said, it don’t matter.” Jamila twisted her fingers, apparently uncomfortable with this conversation.

  She must’ve had enough sentimentality for the evening. He could roll with it. Derek stood straight and detangled her hair once again.

  “Dad?”

  “Yes, baby girl.”

  “I think Mama would’ve liked Maya. What do you think?”

  The brush stopped midstroke. He hadn’t considered it before, and Jamila drawing the connection between the two was different. “I don’t know. What makes you say that?”

  “Because Maya loves Always a Bride. She’s really doing a lot to make sure it’s successful. Maya wants to make a tribute to Mama and Grandma with my dress project. That shows Maya isn’t selfish.”

  “That’s a smart observation from you, young lady.”

  “Do you think Mama would’ve liked Maya too?”

  He paused. Would Grace have liked Maya? Grace did tell him to be happy after she was gone, but it’s one thing to say something, quite another to abide by it. That sense of guilt over his feelings toward Maya encroached upon him again. “I’m not sure, honey. That’s a complicated question.”

  “Why?” Jamila asked.

  Because Maya is terminally sick. Because she has a short time left. Because we’d get hurt again. To make matters worse, if he didn’t pursue this relationship with Maya, she would think it was due to her illness. He already told her that her illness didn’t matter. Reneging on that statement would hurt Maya, and from what little she’d said about her ex, Maya had already been hurt enough.

  “Daaaad? I’m waiting for an answer.”

  Should he even share these thoughts with Jamila? He should. Jamila deserved to know the truth. “It’s complicated with Maya because she has sickle cell anemia.
She has a short time to live.”

  Jamila was silent for a minute. “How short?”

  “Ten to fifteen years.”

  The air was thick between them. He sensed the weight of Jamila’s concern.

  “That’s why I’m not so sure. Whoever I date will be in both our lives. I don’t want you to get hurt again.”

  Jamila nodded. “I get it, Dad. But I like Maya.”

  “I like her too. I think your mother would’ve loved Maya.”

  “Then it doesn’t matter how long Maya lives. Just like we’ll always love Mom. We can always love Maya too. We have to live too, right?”

  His eyes stung. Grace would want him to live. In his heart, he knew this to be true. “Right.”

  She turned and faced him. “Then you’re gonna ask Maya out again, right?”

  Don’t fear the future, Derek. Don’t fear. “Yes, I will ask her out again.”

  Jamila smiled. “Yay! That’s great.”

  He finished brushing Jamila’s hair in silence as she watched television, and then it was lights out for both. As Derek stayed up in his room, alone, he thought of his time this evening with Maya. Despite Maya’s diagnosis, being on a date with her tonight was amazing. He couldn’t wait to hang out with her again.

  A good sensation tugged at him, and he relaxed into the feeling. For the first time in years, he sensed hope.

  On Sunday evening, Maya put the last and final touches on the design revisions for Laura and sent the email. Nervousness coursed through her. She’d toned down the design concept for Laura’s sake this time around. Hopefully Laura would like it—like it enough to promote Maya to head designer.

  For Heather’s dress, Maya didn’t tone down a thing. She relished in the creative freedom she had while working on Heather’s gown. She sent updates to Heather for feedback. During the course of their communication, Heather said she was sending Maya and Derek a wedding invite as a thank-you. That was nice. Maya hadn’t been to a wedding since her own wedding day.

  After that was done, Maya gave the white sash tied around her waist one last tug and straightened the hem of her green A-line skirt. It was made years ago by her mother, who first taught Maya to sew using this skirt as a pattern. She eyed herself in the full-length mirror. The skirt fit her as well as it fit her mother back then.

  She struck up a conversation with her father—not to talk about skirts. She needed to figure out if pursuing Derek was the right thing.

  “Pops?”

  “Yes, my dear.”

  “You have time to talk again?”

  “Always, love. Always.”

  She sat next to him at the kitchen counter and rested her chin in her hands. How would she approach this conversation without subjecting herself to her father’s piercing truisms again? Maybe that was an impossibility. Still, she would proceed cautiously. Her father had a way about him that could leave her in a puddle of cleansing tears.

  She glanced at his left hand and saw his gold wedding band on his ring finger. “Why do you still wear your wedding band?”

  “Because I loved your mother. I still do.”

  Her heart crimped. It was nice for her to hear him say that, seeing that he was dating Ginger and all. “Has Ginger ever said anything about it?”

  He twisted his mouth and looked up, apparently thinking. “No, she hasn’t. I guess she understands.”

  Maya reached for a paper napkin and folded it in half. “She’s a widow too?”

  “No. Divorced twice and happily living her life.” He chuckled. “I don’t know what I’m going to do when she starts traveling. I obviously can’t go along with her just yet. But she’ll return on occasion. I’ll miss her when she’s gone.”

  He’ll miss her. Ginger had been such a great help. What would Pops do when Ginger left? Maya’s old fears about her father being alone rose to the surface, but this time she tamped them down. Her father would be fine. “How did you know that you were in love with Mama?”

  “I just knew. We both worked at the college bookstore, and she was such a bookworm. Me, not so much. Anyway, we started dating and she told me about her passion for fashion design. I loved her enthusiasm for life. She never seemed bogged down by the bad. She just kept focusing on the good. I loved that about her.”

  Maya nodded. “You’re right. She never gave up on the possibility of me being a New York designer, even when I was doubtful.”

  “And look at you today.” He winked.

  Yeah, look at her today. She was making moves in her career, but lately she’d been more successful in South Carolina than New York.

  And that kiss. That kiss flipped everything inside out.

  “How was your date?” Pops asked, as if reading her mind.

  “Good.”

  “That’s it. Just good?” Her father had a teasing note in his voice.

  “I like Derek. I like him a lot.”

  Her father smiled. “That’s wonderful.”

  “But you said before, ‘Oh, it’s just one date. No big commitment.’ Now, my feelings are changing. We had a great conversation, and he’s the most considerate person. I even told him about my sickle cell, and he didn’t even care. I don’t know what I should do.”

  “Did he ask you to do something?”

  Maya shrugged. “No. He didn’t. I’m just trying to make sense of my feelings, I guess.” She reached over and picked up the picture of her mother that was on the coffee table. “I wish Mom were still here. I miss her.”

  “Me too, darling. Me too. You know, it’s okay to let yourself feel love toward someone.”

  “I didn’t say I loved him.”

  “You don’t have to think everything out. You can just give in to the emotions. That’s what life is about.” He looked at the picture of Mama. “The way I felt about your mother is the same way I feel about Ginger.”

  A smile came over Maya. “Is that so?”

  “Yes . . . I know you’re concerned.”

  She glanced down. “I was worrying about what would happen if Ginger left. You would be alone.”

  “Not for long.” He smiled. “I was thinking, once I’m free of that walker, that I may want to go around the country and travel with her.”

  “That’s a great idea.” Maya glanced at the picture of her mother once again. Her olive skin was smooth, her dark eyes seemed to hold a thousand hopes, many of which were now unlived. “I’m glad that you’re creating new adventures for yourself.”

  “You know I didn’t plan on falling in love again. I wasn’t looking for another person to love, but Ginger opened my heart to the possibilities.”

  Each word he’d spoken filled Maya with more and more hope. If Pops got remarried, he’d be a blessed man. He would’ve loved twice in a lifetime. That was rare.

  “You should open your heart to the possibilities too, Maya.”

  Open her heart to the possibilities? “What do you mean?” she asked. In truth, she knew what he meant, but she didn’t want to acknowledge it, not with her father this way.

  “If you’re feeling something about Derek, go with your gut. For a person to say that he still cares about you, despite the risks of your illness—it’s like finding a diamond.”

  She thought so too, which was why this was so cumbersome. “Is Ginger your diamond?”

  Pops nodded. “Yes. She is.”

  “That’s wonderful.”

  Her father smiled at the picture of Maya’s mother. “One of the things I admired about your mother was her ability to be fearless. You know, your mother was one of the few Filipino people living in South Carolina. She made herself right at home here. Everyone here loved her dearly, and she was famous for bringing pancit and chicken adobo to the potlucks.” He laughed. “She was also one of the few dress designers. For a while, she’d built up a good side clientele by working as a seamstress and dressmaker for the women of Charleston too. Her mother had taught her as a young girl in the Philippines, and she taught you the craft. Did you know that she wanted to go to
fashion design school?”

  Maya did a double take. “She did?”

  “She even wanted to start a dress shop of her own. She didn’t have the seed money, not after—”

  Guilt set in. “My sickle cell needs. I kept her from her dream.”

  “No, you didn’t, my dear. You didn’t. You were her dream. All that she had is inside of you too. Her beauty and her strength and her talent. Maybe there’s a reason that you’ve made your way over to Always a Bride, and it’s not simply because you need extra rent money for your apartment. So whatever you’re feeling about Derek, don’t fear it.”

  “Don’t fear it.” Easier said than done. “She could’ve partnered with Always a Bride in some way. Did she ever consider it?”

  “No, unfortunately. Her full-time job didn’t give her much time to focus on dress design. But don’t think that you held your mother back. Because you didn’t.”

  Maya rested her chin in her hands, thinking. It was kind of hard to not believe what her father just told her, that her mother had let go of design school because of her. “So, if I don’t believe that, then what should I do?”

  “Move on.” He winked at Maya. “I am.”

  Maya glanced at the wedding ring on his finger. She could see the tiny scratches on the band that came from years of use. How many smiles and tears and arguments and joys had his wedding band witnessed? So many. Too many to count. And Pops was moving on from those memories to something new and unknown.

  Could she do the same? Maya wasn’t sure; there were a ton of things she needed to consider before she let herself completely fall for Derek. She lived in New York. Her health issues took up a lot of time. After her monthly blood transfusions, she needed days to recoup. She had one more transfusion to schedule before she left for home. Her health needs meant she wouldn’t be available to “people” or tend relationships much.

  She could go on as planned, career minded and loveless, but Maya would be missing out on Derek in the process. Nonetheless, her father was right. She deserved to live fully for her own sake. Would Derek be okay once she left? That was something they’d have to discuss. “If you can move forward, then I can move forward too.”