“It’s not my money,” she affirmed. “I don’t want his money. I would rather we were getting married for the right reasons,” she stated looking down at her stomach that was still flat in her simple summer dress.
“Just have faith Mani; maybe this is God’s way of giving you your happy ever after.”
She sighed as she slouched in the chair she was currently occupying. William the butler had brought her an afternoon meal prepared by the cook and she had to admit that she enjoyed it. She bit down on the crumpet and she moaned in jubilation as the butter spread on top melted in her mouth and she chewed the crispy flour based pastry.
“Girl why are you moaning like that?” asked Lauren who was still on the other line.
“It’s these crumpets they are to die for,” she admitted.
“Hmm hmm, you are definitely warming up to the high life,” her friend laughed. “Anyways, let me know when you’re gonna need me to practice walking down the aisle. I don’t want to mess up on your special day.” Imani laughed at her friend’s comments before they hung up on each other.
The remainder of the day was spent going over the venue for the wedding and the reception with the wedding planner. Michael had conceded on the point when she told him that she wanted to use her pastor and for that she was grateful. The only issue was the church would not be able to host everyone so the wedding and the reception was set to take place on the property which was large enough to host the event.
Next came her meeting with the caterers which was a success as she chose the menu smartly. Her final meeting was with the person who was bringing the gowns for her. All the dresses were presented to her and immediately she found the dress she wanted without even having to second guess her choice. It was the dress from her dream; an exact replica. She had to admit that she enjoyed the flurry of events that constituted the preparation for a wedding – her wedding and at the end of the day she felt fulfilled, the feelings of dread and anger from earlier dissipating.
On Wednesday, Imani met with Michael and his parents at an upscale restaurant on the upper east side of Brooklyn. She could tell immediately that his mother did not like her. His father on the other hand seemed nice and he sported the same smile as his son, only his was more forthcoming.
“So, what kind of work do you do Imani?” asked his mother as she stared down her nose at her.
“Ohm, I’m actually a waitress.” At this his mother raised her eyebrows in scrutiny but Michael jumped in.
“She has a degree in Culinary Arts but it’s difficult to get work in the food industry she told me. So she’s working at the restaurant to gain some valuable experience.” She felt him squeeze her hand under the table and she was grateful for the support he gave her.
“And do you plan to continue working after you’ve married my son?” she asked unperturbed. She didn’t know how to answer the question as either answer she gave would give the woman ammunition to debase her character. Again Michael jumped in.
“Mother you know the answer to that. She will not be working as a waitress as my wife.” She could hear the irritation in his voice as well as sense his annoyance as it projected from his body in waves around the table.
Still unwavering she turned her attention to Imani.
“Are you pregnant?” she asked her eyes piercing into her, daring her to deny it.
“Alright sweetie, we came here to eat. Stop harassing the young lady and let’s eat,” came her savior’s voice. She gave the man a grateful smile to which she received a secretive wink and a smile.
“I’m just curious that’s all,” she defended before turning her attention to the food placed before her. For the remainder of the meal the conversation stayed in safe waters though she could tell that Mrs. Fray still resented the fact that she had not gotten an answer to her question and on numerous occasions when Imani threw furtive glances her way she could see the woman’s eyes narrow at her as she fixed her with a condescending stare. Michael dropped them off at the hotel they opted to stay at before taking her home.
“I’m sorry for my mother’s behavior,” he apologized while he drove. “She is just very protective of me.”
“I understand,” she confessed already feeling overly protective of the little one growing inside of her. Her hand automatically went to her belly. “You didn’t tell your parents about the baby,” she affirmed.
After a long pause he replied.
“No, I didn’t.”
She wanted to ask him why but decided against it. If he wanted to share his reasons he would do it when he was ready, she wouldn’t pry.
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“Good night Imani,” Michael said at her apartment door staring intently into her light brown eyes.
“Good night,” she said simply as she remained rooted to the spot trapped by his intent stare. Suddenly his head descended towards hers and it felt like the air around them became charged as she watched the descent of his lips with bated breath.
He kissed her. It wasn’t an earth shattering kiss just a simple peck on the lips but it felt as if she had been seared by a hot iron and the heat spread throughout her body like a wildfire. As he raised himself, her hand automatically went to her lips, her fingers running over them, trying to commit the act to memory.
“Good night,” he said once more as a smile appeared on his lips before he turned and left.
That night she dreamt of him again, but this time there was a child in the picture and they were on a beach playing in the sand. Suddenly the child lifted his head in her direction and his coal black eyes shined as the sun’s rays reflected in them. He smiled at her and she instantly knew that he was hers – her son. He came forward and hugged her with his little chubby hands and she scooped him up in her arms smiling down at him. A set of muscular arms encircled her waist and when she looked up Michael was staring down at her, smiling like his son and his eyes shone with an emotion she had not seen before. Everything felt perfect and she felt like that was where she belonged. She woke up with a smile on her lips.