Epilogue
about four months later…
“Meleck, stop giving me that coat. I’m not putting it on. It doesn’t go with my dress,” Amara scoffs for the fifth or sixth time and I just laugh.
“What? I didn’t catch that?” he teases while holding his left ear.
“Ugh! You heard me,” she says, fighting to hold her laughter in for the sake of her anger at him trying to cover her up.
I’ve been laughing at these two for the last hour.
It’s the Spring Fling at Amara’s school and this year she has a date, not a date-date but a group date.
She’s not old enough for that and I’m not ready for it either.
She and Kimmie are going with two boys, Braisin and Troy, and Traci is dropping them off and picking them up.
Amara looks beautiful in her coral, sparkly, tulle dress. Her spaghetti straps have 3D flowers and the same 3D flowers are on the bodice. She looks stunning and she definitely doesn’t need a coat. It’s sixty degrees outside for one, and for two, any coat would cover up her cuteness.
“She’s going with some YN with one thing on his mind, she needs a coat,” Meleck tells me and Amara rolls her eyes.
“Braisin is not a YN. He’s a good boy. He’s a roper in rodeo and all he does is go to school, train, and work on his daddy’s farm,” I tell him, still laughing. I’m not worried about Braisin at all.
“Right. He’s not like that,” Amara insists.
“He’s a boy. They are all like that,” Meleck counters.
“Were you like that?” Amara snaps back.
“I’m going to have a talk with this lil nigga when he gets here.”
“Oh my God! Wren! Tell him he can’t. I’ll die,” Amara cries.
“Calm down. He’s not going to. I won’t let him. Go get your phone and see where Kimmie is and spray a little perfume on your neck,” I tell her and she walks out of the living room.
“Why you tell her to put perfume on?” Meleck says with a frown.
“Because she’s a girl and she should smell good. Stop tripping. It’s a group date. Traci is driving them and picking them up. She’s fine.”
“We should have chaperoned,” he says and I just shake my head.
I love Meleck and Amara’s relationship. He’s so protective of her, and although she’s fussing now, she loves his protectiveness. Whatever she wants, he makes it happen. He spoils her. He spoils me too though, and I love every second.
Talking to him that night in Forty Acres and inviting him to stay in my attic were two of the best decisions in my life.
I brought a real man into our lives who fully understands that loving me means loving my sister.
He supports me and her and we support him too. In six months, we’ve created a family.
My website is up and running and I’m shipping all over the United States.
My little barn is filled with shelves of products now.
Meleck stays busy as an electrician and he has a website as well.
He services residents and commercial businesses.
Life is good; we are good and I can’t imagine my life without him.
“They’re here,” Amara announces as she walks back into the living room. Then she turns to Meleck. “Please don’t scare him,” she pleads.
“What’s he got to be scared of?” Meleck asks and Amara sucks her teeth.
My hand touches his leg then I stare into his eyes and say, “Be nice. He’s a good kid.
” Amara opens the door and Kimmie rushes in.
They squeal and laugh while complimenting each other.
Seconds later, Traci and the two boys enter.
“We need to take pictures before y’all go,” I say, then stand.
Meleck stands too, glaring at the boys. They both look scared as hell.
“Let’s take them on the porch. That’ll be cute,” Amara suggests. She and Kimmie walk over to the boys, and when Amara takes Braisin’s hand, Meleck clears his throat. The poor boy drops her hand immediately. “Ignore him,” Amara says before grabbing Braisin’s hand again.
We all walk outside for the pictures, and after several poses, we watch as they get in and drive off. When we walk back into the house, I sit on the sofa and look at the pictures I took with my phone.
My little sister is growing up. The moment is bittersweet. She looks beautiful but she’s also growing up on me. I’m not ready.
“You good?” he asks.
“Are you good?” I counter with a smirk. “Those poor boys barely wanted to stand close to them during the pictures.
“Good. That’s what they need to be…scared.”
“I know you went to dances and had fun when you were their age.”
“I did and dancing was me all up on the girls. Fifteen-year-old boys can’t think about anything else.”
“You danced?” I ask.
He holds his hand out to me and says, “Let me show you. Dance with me?”
My curiosity causes me to accept his hand. Plus I just like being all up on him too. When I’m on my feet, he pulls me into him. One hand caresses my back and the other grips my ass.
“I can’t believe you want to dance with me.”
“Why not? My grandfather and Unc always told me that once I find the right woman, the one made for me, I had to protect her, spoil her, dance with her, and never stop loving her because someone else will,” he says seriously.
His words catch me off guard. Well, one of his words does—love. Although we definitely act like a couple in love, we’ve never said the words. I know he loves me by the way he cares for me, supports me, and is intentional with everything he does and says, but we have never verbalized the emotion.
“Loving her?” I question.
“Yeah. Loving you, because I do,” he says sincerely. “I thought you knew that.”
“I know but you’ve never said it.”
“Then I’m fucking up. I won’t do that again. I love you, Wren.”
“I love you too.”
The End