20. Kayshon
Five months later…
God’s mercy is why I get to see today, and God’s grace is why I will get to smile at the end of the day. Over the last five months, many things took place for me to wake up to what will forever serve as a reminder that I finally did something right. Seeing Rema and her flunky at the mall all those months ago had me deathly afraid of Ashari’s reaction. Letitia, being the therapist she is, walked me through sharing my deepest and darkest secrets with Ashari. While Ashari knew bits and pieces of my parents’ demise, she didn’t know about my foster care disaster.
She also didn’t know that one woman had not only been the vehicle of my manhood but also responsible for how I handled her. My raw state had me unable to move until Ashari’s shoulders rocked with the devastation of my life experiences. No one prepares their significant other for the aftermath when they’re attempting to recover from the trauma they haven’t experienced. Ashari had only been able to cry silently until the last of my information sent her into uncontrollable sobs that lasted several hours. Every time I thought Ashari was able to get herself together, she would look into my eyes and start crying all over again.
For the first time since coming to Letitia, she broke the rules and my HIPPAA stipulations by calling Pastor Reese and telling him to come to her office for an emergency. Letitia and Pastor Reese turned her office into a church altar by praying for Ashari and me right where we were. I had gotten on the floor with Ashari, holding and rocking her as her tears blended with the ones I could no longer control. Seeing Ashari emotional over my pain had me raw and remorseful in a way I have never been before. I’m not sure what hurt Ashari more… knowing a grown woman had groomed me sexually or knowing that I enjoyed every occurrence.
Nevertheless, my acceptance had become the catalyst for Ashari’s pain, which had me wanting to hide under the nearest rock. Once Pastor Reese started praying, Ashari’s sobbing turned to sniffles and hiccups, giving me a moment to regroup. The truth is if someone wants to see the outward countenance of a man fall… push his woman to a broken state. In the greatest display of God’s blessing I have ever experienced in my life, Ashari didn’t run. In fact, she has been sticking beside me through every post-therapy session I’ve had since that day. The relief I feel knowing there are no secrets between us has me anxious to get today over with.
“Why are you sitting here smiling and frowning like a fool? Do I need to get the pastor to exercise your demons before non-soprano finds out that you—” Jawaan asks, cutting into my thoughts as Kyce cuts him off.
“Don’t start, little brother. This is a happy occasion and?—”
“You’re a—butt doesn’t have to keep reminding me how happily married you are with your whupped tail,” Jawaan says, frowning.
Man… I’m about to marry my heaven-sent blessing.
Listening to my brothers go back and forth does the opposite of what Kyce is attempting, while churning begins in my stomach as my breathing accelerates.
*knock, knock*
A series of knocks sound on the door before it opens, and the wedding planner, Ivy Dillard, smiles pleasantly, allowing me to exhale instantly.
“Sorry to interrupt, but I need to steal the groom for a little bit,” Ivy says.
“Now, bro, if you wanted to run, the wedding chick isn’t the person to do it with,” Jawaan says.
“Shut up. I’ll be back in a bit.” Making my way to Ivy, my steps are as heavy as my pulse, and my body tingles all over.
“This is my first time doing this, so don’t make me regret it. Your bride-to-be has already had her makeup put on, so please don’t say anything that will have her crying,” Ivy says as we head to the location she’s set up for Ashari and me to meet before the ceremony.
“That’s a promise I can’t make or keep if I was stupid enough to lie.”
My heart pounds in my ears, increasing in tempo the closer we move to the location, as a fluttery feeling settles within my stomach.
“As a woman who one day hopes to be on the other side of the wall, I respect it.”
My breathing increases as Ivy’s steps become slower because going twenty-four hours without Ashari makes me uneasy. Ashari’s sister and friends wanted to spend some time with her before the wedding, and although I was unhappy about it, I didn’t protest or pout like I wanted to. With Kyce being married with children, it left me to spend the evening convincing Jawaan that I didn’t need one last night doing single nigga shit.
“Okay. Turn around and don’t look, no matter how bad you want to. Seeing the bride before the wedding isn’t a custom I’m willing to let you ignore,” Ivy says when we reach a hallway where a wall separates two sides coming from either direction.
Doing as I was told, I put my back flush against the wall and closed my eyes while waiting for Ashari to reach me.
*click, clack, click, clack*
The sound of heels pierces the quiet hall as I wet my lips, and my back begins moving away from the wall.
My baby is here. Damn, I need to see her.
“Ut unh, Kayshon. Stay where you are, or I will send Ashari back to her dressing room.” Ivy’s chastising voice rings out, causing me to slam back into the wall like a petulant child, doing as I’m told. “Now, extend your hand, and I’m gonna place Ashari’s hand in yours.”
“Shari,” I say, desperate to hear her voice because she hasn’t said anything, and I need to confirm the person in the area with me and Ivy is her.
“I’m here, Kayshon,” Ashari says as Ivy connects our hands, causing a volt of electricity to surge through my body.
“I’m gonna step away to allow you some privacy, but I’m watching you, Kayshon Patton,” Ivy says in a motherly tone, causing Ashari to giggle lightly as warmth fills me, and I sigh when peace overcomes me, instantly calming my weary spirit.
The sound of Ivy’s steps walking away gives me permission to speak to Ashari. This moment is just as important to me as the vows we will exchange when we reach that part of our ceremony.
“How are you feeling, Shari? I missed you last night.”
“I’m ready. Marrying you isn’t something anyone has to convince me to do. I also missed you too. Between Jordan and Amari, I’m not sure who will be sneaking out of the reception first.”
“Sounds like y’all had a great time then.”
“They did. I wanted to be cuddling with you,” Ashari says, causing a smile to upturn my lips.
“After today, there will never come a day where you don’t get the opportunity to do so. I know we don’t have a lot of time before Ivy rushes us back to our spaces, but thank you. Y-you make—man—” Raw emotion clogs my throat and scatters my thoughts as I try to share the inner parts of my heart with Ashari.
“Before your mother met your father… God saw us in this present moment. Thanking me isn’t necessary. I understand that you’re the man capable of me submitting to. No matter the stains of your yesterday, your future… our future will erase the ugly scars. Today, we’ll both have a new beginning, and no matter what happens… I will forever be hooked while loving you.”
Ashari’s words hit me dead center of my chest like I’m receiving lifesaving efforts as tears slip from my eyes.
“All right, you two. It’s time to get you to the final stages of preparation,” Ivy says before I’m able to respond.
“One last thing before we temporarily separate… Bow your head, Shari. God, here I am with the blessing only you could provide a nigga like me. Before Ashari and I stand in front of everyone we know, I’m asking You to center, grace, protect, and guide us as only You can. Even before we commit to each other, I ask that You will be at the center of our union. Thank You for looking for us. Amen.”
“Well, dang, I didn’t see that coming. You better pray for us, Kayshon,” Ashari says.
“Right. I definitely wasn’t expecting that, but I love it. Go ahead and take Ashari back to her area, and I’ll escort Kayshon,” Ivy says to one of her assistants before the sound of Ashari’s heels become distant when Ivy and I head toward my dressing area.
The time with Ashari does wonders for my disposition as my steps are lighter and my gait is more confident.
“Man, I can’t believe both of y’all are married and shit. What the fuck am I gonna do now?” Jawaan says as he, Kyce, and I smoke the cigars he bought for the three of us post-ceremony.
“Join the winning club, little brother. Our marriages should let you know that God didn’t give up on us. Those people might have tried to alter our existence, but God’s grace is sufficient. We aren’t the tainted, damaged, rejected, and neglected niggas the City of Ribax added to our portfolios,” Kyce says.
“That ain’t my description, though, bro. They said I was well loved before being tossed out like four-day-old lettuce. That shit is crazy. With you niggas spending more time booed up than with me, I have been fighting for my fucking life,” Jawaan continues as the despondent expression and blank stare in his orbs pinch my chest.
“Damn. My bad, little bro. Do you need to talk about some shit?” I ask, blowing out the smoke and filling my lungs.
“Nah, my thoughts can only penetrate God’s ears. I ain’t about to make y’all feel guilty anymore about finding the peace my black ass won’t embrace.”
My brows hike, and my face contorts as my mind spins while trying to interrupt what Jawaan hasn’t said. Blood couldn’t make him any less my little brother, so seeing him battle something internally isn’t sitting right with me.
“Don’t do that shit, little bro. Before everything else, all we’ve had is the three of us. Marriage, kids, or nothing else can fracture the fabric of our dynamics,” Kyce says, snatching the words from my mouth like he heard my thoughts.
“I think your pastor is still inside. Do I need to go tell him that he needs to dip you in the baptismal pool?” Jawaan asks, smirking as the light returns to his orbs, replacing the darkness shining through them minutes ago.
“I’m a work in progress, and God knows my heart. At least I’m doing my part and showing up at church on Sundays,” Kyce says, looking between Jawaan and me.
“How did I get in this? Hell, I had to ask Him not to strike me with lightning before I entered the church. Shit, y’all ain’t see me sweating like a hooker who smoked up her pimp’s money?” I ask.
“Whatever. You damn near knocked me out the way to walk in the church with your lame ass. I’m gonna have to disown you niggas after today. I can’t believe your bitch ass stood at that altar crying so bad this nigga had to grip your shoulder to keep you upright,” Jawaan says, shaking his head while his nose twists and the area around his eyes tighten.
All I can do is laugh before coughing roughly from the smoke filling my lungs, because Jawaan is telling the truth, and I don’t have a comeback worthy of speaking. Seeing Ashari walking down the aisle on her father’s arm had my breath hitching and tears falling rapidly from my eyes. I should have known that while Kyce was comforting me, Jawaan memorized the moment to taunt me later.
“It’s cool. I’m gonna pray you have the same experience,” I say, smirking.
“Fuck you, bro,” Jawaan says, putting his cigar out and walking back into the venue where the reception is taking place.
“You know we’re gonna have to keep an eye on him, right?” Kyce says seconds later.
Intense melancholy increases my body temperature as I stare at the closed door Jawaan went through as a heaviness settles within my body.
“Yeah. Something is up with him,” I say.
“It’s cool. We are our brother’s keeper,” Kyce adds.
“For sure. Let’s go back in. I need to lay eyes on my wife.”
“Me too. I’m trying to drop two more in her tonight because her ass has been partaking in the free bar services,” Kyce says with a sneaky grin upturning his lips as a low chuckle leaves my lips.
My eyes are heavy and begging me to give in to the sleep I’m fighting while trying to savor the hours after marrying Ashari. Unlike most couples who consummate their nuptials as soon as they reach their post-reception destination, Ashari and I are cuddling. Ashari and the entire bridal party, including Masani, were hitting the bar heavily and turning up when Kyce and I returned to the party. Ashari’s parents, Ms. Aretha, Masani’s parents, and Pastor Reese were also gone, which meant there were no limitations on how hard the festivities went. With as much alcohol as Ashari had swimming in her system, I decided to wait to consummate our union. The last thing I wanted to do was find myself on the wrong side of Ashari’s liquor consumption.
“I’ve been thinking,” Ashari says giddily, alerting me she’s still in the aftermath of her liquor haze.
“What’s on your mind, Shari?”
Ashari giggles like I’m tickling her, causing me to chuckle while shaking my head because my poor baby is lit.
“Stop, Ashari. Be serious. This is serious.” She coaches herself as I wait for her to get herself together to tell me what she’s thinking.
“Mm. Okay. Okay. I’m good now. Uh, I was thinking about us having kids and wanted to tell you that the ball is in your court. Whenever you’re ready to assume the night shift, let me know, and it’ll be on like Donkey Kong,” she says before laughing again at her corny reference, but her words warm me.
Knowing that Ashari is allowing me time to take a step toward us becoming parents confirms why she’s the woman who now carries my last name.
God, You really saw fit to bless me, and I’m eternally grateful.