Chapter 34 The Tide Turns
Chapter thirty-four
The Tide Turns
The bridal suite was a beautiful mess of silk robes, half empty champagne flutes, and the heavy scent of hairspray. London sat in the center of it all looking like a dream even before the dress was on while her glam team worked like they were prepping for the Met Gala.
Nel was hovering near the vanity adjusting his lapel in the mirror. He was the official flower man for the day, a role he had taken entirely too seriously.
“I’m just saying London,” I said, leaning back as the makeup artist finished my lashes. “When Heavyn grows up and sees the pictures and realizes you made Nel the flower man instead of her she’s going to be pissed.”
“Well, you can make her the flower girl for your wedding,” Nel teased, smoothing down his vest. “We all know you’re probably next down the aisle.”
“We’re taking things slow,” I reminded him, though the memory of floating in that jungle pool with Dex was still sitting somewhere warm in the back of my mind.
“Slow my ass.” Nel rolled his eyes. “The man already has you popping Plan Bs.”
London’s head snapped toward me, her eyebrows nearly hitting her hairline. “You got something you want to tell us?”
“I just told y’all I’m taking things slow,” I repeated.
Nicole laughed from the corner, shaking her head. “Girl you are so bad at lying.”
Paris looked up from her champagne glass, her voice careful.
“I love you Nique and Dex is family. You know I want nothing but the best for both of you. I just need you to remember that Demi is always going to be there, which means Amina is always going to be there. That’s the part I want to make sure you’re ready for. ”
“I told her the same thing,” Nel said from the mirror without even turning around.
“And I hear you both,” I said, meeting Paris’s eyes. “I know what I’m signing up for.”
Paris held my gaze for a second then nodded and picked her glass back up. That was enough for her. It was enough for me too.
I switched the subject back to the one person who could always bridge any gap in this room.
“Anyways back to what I was saying about Heavyn. London I still can’t believe she’s not here to see this.”
London pouted, her eyes welling up for the fifth time that morning.
“Don’t start. I miss my baby so much it hurts, but with the way Grandma June’s arthritis has been acting up she just couldn’t handle the long flight.
She was heartbroken to miss the wedding, so we decided the best thing was for Heavyn to stay back in Mobile with her.
It gives Grandma some company while she rests and honestly Heavyn is in that phase where she thinks no is a suggestion. She’d be a handful in this heat.”
Paris let out a soft laugh. “I saw their gardening pictures on Facebook this morning. Even with her hands hurting that woman had Heavyn out there in the dirt. The baby was covered in more mud than the actual plants.”
“To be in her seventies Grandma June sure does know how to operate social media,” I said, shaking my head. “But at least Heavyn is being an angel for her. If she were here, she’d probably eat the flower petals instead of throwing them.”
The room laughed and the conversation drifted for a few minutes the way it does when women are getting ready together.
Someone commented on London’s veil. Nicole asked who did Paris’s nails.
The makeup artist hummed something under her breath while she worked on London’s liner.
It was easy and comfortable. The kind of morning you want to hold onto.
Nel set down his champagne glass and turned away from the mirror. Something about the shift made the room go quiet without him having to ask.
“Since we’re all here,” he said, his voice dropping into that softer register he used when something actually mattered to him. “I want to make an announcement.”
London’s makeup artist paused her brush mid stroke. Nicole looked up from her phone. Paris set her glass down.
Nel let the moment breathe for a second, the way he always did when he wanted to make sure everybody was paying attention. Then he said it.
“Harvey and I are officially starting the process for a surrogate. I’m finally going to be a dad.”
The room erupted. London jumped up nearly knocking over her makeup artist and pulled him into a tight hug. Nicole squealed from the corner loud enough to rattle the mirror. Paris pressed her hand to her chest.
I just smiled and let the room have him. He had been sitting on that news all morning waiting for the right moment and he deserved every reaction he was getting right now.
The questions flew. When did you decide? Who is carrying it? Has she done it before? Nel answered everything with easy pride.
When the room finally settled back into getting ready, the glam team resuming their work and the champagne being refilled, London got quiet in that particular way she got when she was sitting on something.
Paris noticed first. “London.”
London looked around at all of us, her eyes already watering. “Okay,” she said, laughing through it. “Since we’re sharing baby news.” She took a breath. “Eli and I are on baby number two. I’m pregnant.”
Another eruption. Louder than the first. London disappeared into a pile of hugs and happy tears, and Nicole was somewhere in the middle of it all hollering loud enough for the whole resort to hear.
I watched Paris from across the room. She was smiling, hugging London, saying all the right things, but I knew her face. I had known her face my whole life. That smile was real but there was something sitting just underneath it that she was working very hard to hold down.
A few minutes later she slipped out quietly. Just said she needed some air and was gone before anyone could ask if she was okay.
I gave it a few seconds then followed her.
I found her in the lobby bathroom leaning over the marble sink with her eyes closed, breathing through her nose like she was trying to keep herself together by sheer force of will.
"I know you're not about to cry already," Isaid softly, letting the door click shut behind me. “We paid too much for these beat faces.”
She didn’t respond. Just gripped the edge of the counter until her knuckles went white. I stood back and let the silence sit. She had the look of someone drowning in a room full of people celebrating the water.
“Paris,” I said when she didn’t speak. “Talk to me.”
“When Kyson finds out London and Eli are on baby number two, he’s going to start the pressure again Nique,” she whispered, her voice barely holding. “He’s going to be relentless.”
“At this point Paris maybe you and him should consider a surrogate too,” I said. “Or adopt. There are so many ways to be a mother.”
“There’s a chance I can conceive,” she said, finally looking at me in the mirror. “The doctor said there’s a small chance.”
“Cousin,” I said carefully. “It’s a slim chance and you know it.”
Back in college when things between her and Kyson had fallen apart for a stretch, she had made a choice she never fully recovered from.
She had gotten pregnant by someone else, panicked, and had a procedure that left damage she didn’t find out about until years later when she and Kyson started trying.
I was the only person she had ever told.
I had held that secret for her ever since.
“I can’t let Kyson down,” she said.
“I’m sure after all these years he understands,” I told her.
Paris went quiet. The kind of quiet that meant something was coming.
“I’ve never told him about the abortion,” she whispered.
I turned to look at her directly. “What?”
“I just couldn’t Nique.”
“Paris, why not? It’s not like you aborted his baby.”
She let out a broken sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a sob. “That’s the problem. He doesn’t know I was with someone else much less that I got pregnant.”
“Y’all were broken up,” I reminded her.
“I know that, but I never told him. To this day he thinks he’s the only man I’ve ever been with.
” She wiped her face with the back of her hand.
“You know how it is. A man can sleep with half the city and it’s just something that happened.
You sleep with somebody else one time and suddenly you’re a hoe.
When we got back together things moved fast and then he proposed and I just.” She shook her head.
“I told myself I would take it to my grave.”
“Damn P,” I said quietly.
She looked at herself in the mirror like she was staring at a stranger. I stepped in and put my arms around her from behind, both of us looking at our reflections, and I held her the way she had held me more times than I could count.
“We’ll figure it out,” I said quietly. “Not today. Today is London’s day, but we’ll definitely figure it out.”
She nodded, pressing her lips together hard. She straightened up, smoothed her robe, and checked her face in the mirror.
“Don’t say anything,” she said.
“When have I ever,” I said back.
Before we could move toward the door it swung open.
Amina maneuvered herself in on crutches, her wrapped ankle barely clearing the threshold.
She looked good despite all of it. The black mini dress hugged every curve she had; three-dimensional floral appliqués scattered across the fabric like someone had pressed real flowers into the material.
The hem hit mid thigh and even on crutches she carried herself like she knew exactly what she was working with.
Hair laid, makeup beat, and she had clearly been pregaming.
She clocked us both immediately and pulled up short, steadying herself on the crutches. Her eyes went straight to Paris’s face, reading the red rimmed eyes and the tight jaw the way only a best friend can.
“P, what’s wrong?”
Paris shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about it right now.”
Amina’s expression shifted. Something flickered behind her eyes, quick and sharp. She looked from Paris to me and back again.
“Oh,” she said, her voice dropping into something wounded. “So, you about to replace me for her just like Dex did huh.”
“Don’t start Amina damn,” Paris said, her voice flat and final before brushing past her and out the restroom.
The door swung shut and it was just the two of us.
Amina looked at the door then slowly turned to look at me, her eyes moving from my head to my feet and back up with that particular kind of assessment that was designed to make you feel small.
“I really don’t see what he sees in you,” she said.
I let that sit for a second. There was no point in taking the bait.
She turned toward the stall, her crutches catching on the tile. She stumbled, catching herself before anything happened.
“That’s what you get for being a bitch,” I said.
Amina whipped her head around. “Call me another bitch and see what happens. Crutches or not.”
“Get your cripple drunk ass out my face,” I said. “You’re so unbalanced I could probably blow and you’d fall.”
Amina cut her eyes at me and turned back toward the stall with an attitude, pushing the door open harder than necessary. One crutch slipped on the tile again and she lurched forward, nearly face planting directly into the toilet.
She yelped.
I was moving before I even made the decision to. I grabbed her by the arm and steadied her, keeping her upright until she got her balance back.
She stood there breathing hard, gripping the stall wall, her dignity somewhere on the floor between us.
Neither one of us said anything for a second.
“Thank you,” she muttered, not looking at me.
“Don’t mention it,” I said. “Ever.”
I stepped back out and pulled the stall door closed behind me, giving her privacy. I leaned against the counter and waited.
When I heard the lock click open, I spoke before she could say anything.
“Amina, I don't want to argue with you forever. I know I’m the enemy to you and I understand why, but I have loved Dex since we were kids. I’m not getting with him to spite you or to steal him from you.
” I paused, letting my truth settle. “Hell, some days I wish I could turn it off. Wish he could too. Would have made everybody’s life a whole lot simpler. But I can’t and neither can he.”
She came out of the stall slowly, not looking at me, focusing on maneuvering her crutches to the sink.
“I’m not a homewrecker,” I continued. “I grew up without a mother and without a father. As a kid all I ever wanted was two parents under one roof. I would never stand in the way of Demi having that. Being with Dex does not mean I’m here to interfere with him being her father.
She will always come first. I need you to know that. ”
Amina ran the water over her hands. She still hadn’t looked at me, but she hadn’t walked out either.
She turned the faucet off and stood there for a moment. When she finally spoke, her voice was quieter than I expected.
“I don’t doubt that you love him,” she said, still not looking at me.
“I never did. That’s actually the part that kills me.
” She reached for a paper towel and dried her hands slowly.
“The worst part is that I knew the whole time. Even before Paris told me about Jamaica, I knew he looked at you differently. I just kept telling myself if I gave him enough time and enough reasons to stay, he would eventually choose me.” She finally looked up and met my eyes in the mirror. “He never did though. Not once.”
I didn’t say anything. I just let it sit there between us.
“I don’t hate you Nique,” she said, straightening up and reaching for her crutches. “I hate the situation. There’s a difference.”
She made her way toward the door and pushed it open with her shoulder. She paused without turning around.
“Just don’t hurt him,” she said quietly. “And remember that no matter what happens between y’all I’m still her mama. I’m not going anywhere.”
Then she was gone.
I stood there for a minute after the door closed. I had followed Paris in here to hold her together and somehow ended up having the most honest conversation I’d ever had with Amina. We weren’t cool again, but we had opened the door for honest conversation and that was a great start.