Curvy Girl Summer

Chapter 23

I woke up before the sun on the morning of my birthday. Even though I was awake, I couldn’t move. There was a weight on my chest that felt like it was pinning me down. Groggily, I tried to push myself up, but I was still unable to move. Fear started to nag at me, but then suddenly, a calmness washed over me, and my body relaxed.

Fuck what everyone else has to say. Never let anyone get in the way of you being you.

Gasping, I jolted up in bed. My bonnet was left behind on the pillow as I whipped my head back and forth. My heart pounded, and I put my hand to my chest to calm it down.

It was my sister’s voice.

It wasn’t a dream. Loud and clear, I heard my sister’s voice.

The first voice I heard on the morning of my thirtieth birthday was hers.

Slowly, I reclined against the pillow and let Aniyah’s words run through my head again and again. Her voice had faded, and it was only my voice in my head. But it was her words.

Fuck what everyone else has to say.

“You’re right, sis,” I whispered, teary-eyed.

It was my life. It was about me. It was about what I wanted. It was my birthday for goodness’ sake.

I’d been internally counting down until my thirtieth birthday for the last five years. I’d been stressed to find a boyfriend for my party for the last two months. I’d been worked up about the situation with Ahmad for the last two weeks. So, to wake up hearing my sister’s advice on my birthday lit a fire under me.

My mom and I had a birthday tradition of getting our hair and nails done followed by lunch on the Saturday closest to my birthday. But because we were on a time crunch and planned to get to the lake house by five o’clock, we’d planned to meet at a restaurant near the salon. Inspired by my sister, I arrived at the restaurant ready to get a few things off my chest.

Since Aniyah died, it was always just the two of us. So, I was surprised when I arrived at the restaurant and saw my father as well.

“Hey!” I greeted them, giving them both big hugs before sitting down.

“Happy birthday!” they cheered in unison.

“Thank you.” I looked between them. “How’s everything?”

We made small talk for a few minutes while we reviewed the menus. I already knew I was getting the chicken and waffles, but I still looked. We were all pretty much creatures of habit when it came to breakfast foods. Dad was getting the steak and eggs. Mom was getting the pancakes, bacon, and eggs. They were going to get coffee that they were going to complain about, and then they were going to reminisce about their trip to Colombia, where they had the best coffee of their lives, as they sipped their water with lemon.

“I know what I’m getting,” my dad announced.

My mom nodded. “Me, too.”

I looked between the two of them as they stacked their menus. “So, what’s going on? Dad, you’re coming to get your hair and nails done, too?”

“No, no,” he chuckled. “Just haven’t seen much of you lately, and I wanted to tag along for the breakfast portion of the day.”

I smiled and nodded. “Well, I’m glad you’re both here. There’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“What can I get for you folks?” the waitress asked.

We placed our orders and then we were left alone.

“What’s on your mind, Aaliyah?” Dad questioned. A concerned look crossed his face as he sat up on his side of the table.

My mom leaned forward, reaching for my hand. “Is everything okay?”

I squeezed her hand, then clasped my hands in my lap. “I wanted to talk to you about today.”

“It’s about the boyfriend thing, isn’t it?” my mom guessed.

I looked her in her eyes and sat back in my seat.

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” I started. “Part of the reason I told y’all I had one was because I was tired of the conversation, I wanted it to be over, and I wasn’t happy that you invited Marcus to my party without my permission.”

“Oh, Aaliyah!” Mom exclaimed. “You didn’t have to lie to us about that. And you don’t have to explain anything.”

“No, we need to have this talk,” I told them. “You mentioned how we hadn’t seen much of each other this summer. And yes, I’ve been busy. But the main reason is because I need you both to heal from what happened to Aniyah.”

“What do you mean? Losing a child isn’t something you just get over,” Mom argued tearfully.

“Aaliyah…” Dad started to say, but his sentence trailed off.

My eyes started to water, but I blinked back tears. “I don’t know what it’s like to lose a child. But I know what it’s like to lose a sister. The pain may be different. The ways in which it affects your life are definitely different. But it’s painful all around. And there’s trauma with that. And trauma needs healing.” I ran my palms over my jean-covered thighs. “I’m not saying you should just get over it and move on. All I’m saying is that you have to heal because I’m enough. All by myself. I’m enough.”

“Oh, honey!” My mom’s hands flew to her cheeks. “We know! We would never say otherwise. You’re enough. You’re more than enough. We love you.”

I shook my head. “Please listen to me. I’m not saying you don’t love me. I’m saying that I’m enough. How I live my life is enough. What I choose to do and not to do is enough. My choices and the timing of my choices are enough.”

“We know that,” my dad said slowly.

I shook my head. “I don’t think you do.” I exhaled. “For the last five years, you’ve been comparing me to Aniyah. You’ve been hoping that I give you what she gave you. You’ve been wanting me to fill the void that she filled. And I know you were looking forward to being grandparents. But you have to understand that I’m not Aniyah’s replacement. I’m not going to get married and have children in order to replace the child you lost, the grandchild you lost.”

I saw the tears in my mom’s eyes, and I almost lost my nerve, but I continued.

“At some point over the last five years, you stopped wanting me to be me and you started wanting me to be Aniyah. And I’m not her. I’ll never be her. And I want you to be okay with that.”

My mom opened her mouth to speak, but I shook my head and kept going. “I don’t have a boyfriend, and I don’t know when I’m getting married. I don’t know when or if I’m having kids. But I’m enjoying my life. I’m enjoying dating and taking my time. Aniyah found her person and then married him. She did things the way you would’ve done it if you were her. And that’s fine. That’s amazing. But that’s not me. That’s not for me. That’s not my life. That’s not what I want. And if this summer has taught me anything, it’s that I’m not ever going to be Aniyah, and I was never supposed to be.”

“We love you, Aaliyah. We just want you to be happy,” Mom told me.

“Then let me be me. Freely. Without your commentary and judgment,” I replied firmly. “And I’m going to be honest with you… what happened at the memorial really bothered me.”

“Your uncle was out of line—” Dad started.

“Yes, he was. But I’m talking about what I found out about the two of you. It made me realize that I wasn’t just imagining things or being sensitive. You’ve been wanting me to live Aniyah’s life despite what I want. It didn’t used to be like this. Over the last few years, I noticed the change, but I didn’t think it was that deep. Until Uncle Al said what he said.”

“I’m sorry it came across like we don’t think you’re enough. That’s far from the truth,” Mom noted. She looked at my dad, who was nodding, and then she looked back at me. “Our conversation was about us trying to figure out if being grandparents was in the cards for us. But you’re right… even though our conversation was about us, it was centered around you and your choices.”

“You two may have to come to terms with the fact that you may not be grandparents anytime soon. You have to grieve what you lost and then live in the moment. You can’t put the pressure on me to be Aniyah’s replacement, because that’s not what I want and that’s not going to be good for any of us.”

The tears ran down my mother’s cheeks as my truth hit her. My dad’s glassy eyes seemed to hold back the emotion my mom couldn’t contain.

“We want you to be you, Aaliyah,” my dad choked out as he put his hand on my mother’s hand.

“We love you, and we just want you to be happy,” my mom added.

I took a deep breath. “I love you both so much, and I want you to know that my happiness isn’t tied to being with a man or racing to the altar or having children. My happiness is tied to me living a life that I love and am proud of. My happiness is centered around me and what I want.”

They nodded.

“So I need you two to heal from Aniyah’s death.” I swallowed hard. “Because I’m working on my own healing with her death, too.”

Confusion flickered across their faces. “I thought you got over your issue with water,” Dad stated in a low tone.

I shook my head. “No, not that.”

My mom dabbed the corners of her eyes and then tearfully asked, “Is there something else going on?”

“I have a job I love, a life I love, and even still, I kept feeling like it was important for me to find the right man before today. Ever since Aniyah died, I’ve been feeling like I’ve had an expiration date on my head. For the last five years, I moved with the general thought that I had until thirty before it might be over for me, too,” I admitted. “I didn’t realize I felt that way until I was talking to someone about trauma and trauma responses.”

“You thought… You thought you were going to…” My mom mouthed the word die before covering her mouth.

“I thought…” I let out a contemplative noise as I tried to sum it up for them. “It was more of a feeling than an expressed thought. It felt like I only had as much time as Aniyah, and I didn’t know what life looked like beyond thirty.” I looked between them and then started from the beginning. “But I realized the big, expensive party, the search for the boyfriend, the mental countdown that was ticking was all because I tied thirty to Aniyah… and her death… and…” I closed my eyes for a moment so I didn’t cry. “My own death.”

“Oh, Aaliyah!” my mom cried.

“I woke up this morning ready to release all of that baggage I was carrying. So I’m letting you know that I’m not bringing a date with me to my party. I’m not interested in a setup. I just want to live my life. And when I meet the man I want to be with, I’ll let you know. Can you handle that?”

“We can handle that,” my dad said with a firm nod.

“We can,” my mom added quickly. “That’s fair.”

“And if Uncle Al—”

“I’ll take care of Uncle Al,” Dad replied. “Don’t you worry about that.”

I still planned on having my own conversation with him, but I appreciated the protectiveness.

I cleared my throat to keep my voice from breaking. “From now on, my life is about me.”

“Now these plates are hot,” the waitress said, placing the food on the table between us.

We ate breakfast rather quietly for the next few minutes. Although the conversation we had was heavy, it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. It was as if we were all just in a contemplative space. It wasn’t until the waitress came back with the coffee for my parents that our conversation resumed.

“You know this coffee is terrible,” Dad commented as he took another sip.

“No coffee will ever top the coffee we had in Colombia,” Mom reminisced. Turning to me, she said, “You have to make a trip to Colombia for the views and for the coffee.”

The rest of our breakfast resumed like any ordinary morning. When we finished eating, my father paid, and then we walked outside together.

Rubbing his belly, my dad yawned loudly. “Oh, man, I need to get a nap in so I can keep up with the young folks tonight.”

I pointed at him. “You need to just worry about keeping up with Mom.”

He laughed. “Shonuff.” Pulling me into a hug, he held me tighter and longer than usual. “I love you, Aaliyah. Happy birthday.”

“I love you, too, Dad. Thank you.” I gave him a squeeze back and then released my arms.

He was still holding on.

“Dad?” I whispered.

Clearing his throat, he took a step back and nodded. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“See you tonight.”

My mom was wiping her eyes when I looked at her.

“Don’t make me cry,” she stated, wagging her finger at me. “I’ll meet you at the salon. Make sure Kim knows I’m here.”

“Okay, I will.”

I walked to the end of the block where the salon was located, and before entering, I glanced back at my parents. The two of them were hugging and comforting each other. If I were to guess, my mom was shedding tears and my dad was holding his back. It was hard to see them crying, but it was good to know that they heard what I was saying to them.

“Welcome to Hair Love,” Kim greeted me as soon as I walked through the door.

“Hi!” I lifted my hand in a wave. “I’m here for Serena.”

Four hours later, my hair was done, my nails and toes were done, and I was back in my apartment getting my stuff together to leave. I’d known what I was wearing for weeks, so it didn’t take long to pack. It was the fact that I didn’t realize until that moment that I still had Ahmad’s jacket. Just seeing it caused my entire body to react. I tried to shake it off, but it was taking a little more time. It was much easier to shake it off when I was just imagining what he felt like versus having carnal knowledge of what he felt like.

I need to focus.

I put it back in the bag that I’d hidden it in and tossed it to the side.

“Okay, I have my shower stuff, my makeup, my dresses, my sleepwear, my shoes, my bag, my—oh!”

Rushing to the dresser, I grabbed a couple of cute bra-and-panty sets and also both bathing suits. I still didn’t know if I was going to do more than dip my feet in the lake, but I remembered that there was a hot tub on the second floor.

“I’m all set,” I whispered to myself.

Grabbing all the bags, I carried them to the car, turned up the music, and then made my way to my uncle’s house. It was on the way to Dowdy Lake, and even though I didn’t have much time, I didn’t plan to be there long.

Pulling into the long driveway of the small home near the woods, I parked behind my uncle’s truck.

“Happy birthday!” Uncle Al greeted me with a huge grin as he eased from his seat on the porch. “What are you doing here?”

“I just came to talk,” I started, sliding my hands into my pockets. “Do you have a few minutes?”

“For you, of course. Come on up here.” He waited until I climbed the steps to the porch before he added, “Sit in the rocking chair. It’s sturdier.”

I pursed my lips. “I’ll stand.”

He chuckled and shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He sat down on the porch swing. “What’s on your mind?”

“I didn’t appreciate what you said at Aniyah’s memorial,” I blurted out.

His eyebrows drew together in confusion. “What? About you not really having a boyfriend?”

I nodded. “Yeah, and—”

“Well, do you?”

“No, and that’s not the point—”

He chuckled and shook his head. “I knew it! I knew it!” He clapped his hands together. “You ain’t have to come all the way over here to apologize.”

Taken aback, I made a face. “I didn’t come here to apologize to you. I came here to give you an opportunity to apologize to me. Because what you said was messed up.”

“I—”

“No, I’m not finished,” I interjected, my frustration evident. “Your jokes about my weight, your comparing me to Aniyah, your comparing me to Macy, your thoughts and opinions about my love life need to stop now! I’m not going to be made to feel uncomfortable about how I look, what I do, how I move, who I date, and the choices I make because you have a problem with it. This is my life!”

“I love you, and I’m trying to help you,” he said gruffly. “I just want you to be happy and healthy.”

“And who says I’m not?!”

He gestured to my body. “You’re a pretty girl, but your weight—”

“Uncle Al, I weigh less than you,” I snapped.

Putting his hand on his hip, he didn’t say anything, but he frowned.

“So, not only are these comments unnecessary, but they’re also hypocritical,” I continued. “What I weigh is my business, so stop it!”

“I don’t understand how you don’t see that I’m just looking out for you. You’re thirty now. You ain’t got no prospects for marriage. If you don’t lock something down now—”

“That’s my business!” I yelled, throwing my arms up. Taking a deep breath, I exhaled audibly and calmed myself down. “Uncle Al, my life is mine. How I live my life is my business.”

“I’m just worried about you.”

“You should worry about yourself. I’m fine. There’s nothing for you to worry about.”

“You don’t have no one to take care of you.”

“I can take care of myself.”

He let out a noisy sigh and waved his hand in the air. “That’s what Macy said, too,” he muttered.

“My life isn’t over at thirty. My life doesn’t revolve around me getting married and having children. When I meet the man I want to be with forever, I’ll marry him. Until then, I’m fine.”

“You’re thirty.”

“I would rather choose right the first time than just get with someone because I’m thirty.” I gave him a look. “As someone who has been married three times, I thought you could appreciate that.”

“That’s even more of a reason to listen to me. I asked three women to be my wife. All of them slim—”

“And since their slimness didn’t keep y’all together, I would say your points are irrelevant,” I interrupted.

“But their slimness got them proposed to.” He rubbed his hands together. “I’m just trying to look out for you. You don’t solve problems by ignoring them,” he said earnestly.

“Have you ever considered that I’m not the problem?” I narrowed my eyes at him. “You are.”

“Well, I’ll be!” he exclaimed indignantly. “You—”

“You are the problem. And if you can’t admit that and change the behavior, you’re not welcome at my birthday celebration tonight.”

He looked offended and hurt. “I want the best for you, Aaliyah.” I almost felt bad, and then he opened his mouth again. “And I’m scared being this”—he opened his arms out wide—“big is going to keep you from a good life.”

“Keeping people around me who think like you do is the only thing that’s going to keep me from a good life. So you can keep the yacht—”

“You need a man to be able to drive the yacht anyway.”

I slow blinked. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I groaned in exasperation.

“You’re being too sensitive.”

“And you’re not being sensitive enough. So like I said, you’re uninvited.” I turned on my heel and made my way down the steps. “Goodbye, Uncle Al.”

“Aaliyah,” he called out. “Don’t be like that. I’m only saying this because I’m worried about you and I care about you.”

Continuing to my car, I ignored him.

By the time I climbed inside and started the engine, he had made his way in the house. I had no doubt he was calling my mother or grandmother to tell them what had happened. And I was completely fine with that. I refused to celebrate my birthday with anyone who tried to make me feel bad about being me.

I reflected on the conversations I had with my family as I took the scenic route to Dowdy Lake. With each passing mile, I realized how much lighter I felt. A weight had been lifted from my shoulders. Saying what needed to be said to my parents and my uncle was the best gift I could’ve given myself. Because in my gut, I knew that no one would ever get in the way of me being me again.

With a huge smile on my face, I exhaled.

I felt a peace I hadn’t felt since before Aniyah died.

“Oooooh,” I murmured excitedly, looking around as I pulled onto the Dowdy Lake grounds.

The picturesque landscape was breathtaking. The houses that lined one side of the lake were beautifully crafted. The one I’d rented was a six-bedroom, seven-bathroom waterfront property with a firepit and the space for a table that seated thirty-two guests.

When I pulled up and saw the outdoor dance floor that had been constructed, I felt like it was worth the money.

“Happy birthday to me,” I giggled to myself as I looked around.

I arrived early and placed all my belongings in the biggest bedroom located on the second floor. The two other bedrooms on the second floor were reserved for Nina and Jazz. I only needed three bedrooms, but I got one of the largest cabins for the number of bathrooms downstairs and the spacious living room and dining area. There were forty people who had RSVP’d for the dinner party and then about one hundred who said they were coming to the lake party at eight o’clock.

I hadn’t thrown a big party since my high school graduation—and that didn’t really count. That was more of a family reunion that happened to coincide with my graduation. But what was happening at Dowdy Lake was for me and about me. The decorator had turned the space into a shimmery black-and-green paradise. The caterer had the whole house smelling like my favorite foods. I looked at the clock impatiently.

Is it six o’clock yet?

“How many people are you expecting?” my dad joked as he walked through the door carrying bags at five o’clock.

“Well, if you and Mom hadn’t announced I was having a party, maybe I could’ve shaved off twenty people,” I retorted, grabbing a bag from his hand.

He laughed. “That was your mother.”

“Why are you throwing me under the bus?” Mom’s giggle followed as she teetered in, carrying a cake. “And I only invited six people—not twenty!”

“Are you guys sure you don’t want to stay after the dinner?” I asked, pointing at one of the downstairs bedrooms. “If so, you can choose the room you want and put your stuff in there.”

“No, no, no,” Mom responded. “We will be getting out of here after dinner so you can enjoy your friends. We’ll let you young folks do your thing. Your grandma wants you to come by the house tomorrow. Do you have plans when you leave here?”

“I can stop by for a few. How is she doing?”

“She still isn’t feeling well. Your uncle decided it would be best for him to stay at the house and watch over her while we’re here.”

I pursed my lips. That was not his idea.

“And he gave us something to give to you,” she continued. “I accidentally left the box at home. I called him and told him to bring it himself, but he insisted on keeping Mama company tonight.”

“Mm-hmm, I think it’s for the best,” I pointed out. “Uncle Al’s energy isn’t the energy I need at my birthday party. I’m trying to celebrate.”

“And celebrate we will.” Dad started doing a little swivel of his hips. “I took my nap, so I can hang all night.”

“We are leaving at a decent hour. I have to be at church very early tomorrow!” Mom protested. “If we’re out all night, how am I supposed to explain that?”

“Well, God will already know why we’re late.”

“Darryl!”

It was clear he was trying to rile Mom up, so all I could do was laugh.

“Your hair… I like it!” my dad commented while Mom was still huffing and puffing. He gave it a quizzical look and then smiled.

I touched the scarf covering the thick, long length of my natural hair in pin curls. My hair was going to give a lot of body once I removed the pins and styled it. But as it was, Dad couldn’t see the vision.

“Once I take the scarf off and take these pins out, it’ll look real good. But I appreciate the compliment, Dad.”

“Okay, I didn’t know what was going on,” he chuckled good-naturedly.

Right after I showed them where to get dressed, I went upstairs and got myself ready.

My hair looked incredible. The emerald minidress with the plunging neckline looked good on my mocha-colored skin. The cut of the dress was sexy, but the structure was elegant. The dress I was changing into for the party after dinner was the exact same color but had a completely different vibe.

I twisted my lips, as I’d bought both dresses with the hope and expectation that someone was going to be ripping them off me. But since that wasn’t the case, I needed the photographic evidence of how good I looked. I glanced from the dress that was on my body to the dress that was hanging on the door of the closet. Both dresses demanded for them to be pulled up or pulled off.

Like last night.

I shut my eyes and pushed the thought out of my mind.

I was about to be surrounded by my closest friends and family—plus Liz and Marcus. I was going to be celebrating the fact that I made it to thirty. I was about to be celebrating my new lease on life. I was about to be celebrating my newfound peace. I refused to let Ahmad infiltrate my thoughts and disrupt my peace.

“Today is about me,” I reminded myself quietly as I heard my mom call my name.

It was six o’clock.

Showtime.

My four-inch crocodile-skin peep-toe stilettos weren’t just the sexiest shoes I’d ever owned, they made my legs and ass look incredible. Unfortunately, they rubbed my heel. I just had to make it downstairs, pose, and then I’d be seated at the head of the table. But my heel felt rubbed raw by the time I hit the stairs.

Well, damn.

Mustering a smile, I made it down the staircase and to the landing. The applause I received momentarily made me forget that I’d lost my Achilles heel back on the third or fourth step.

“You look so good!”

“That dress is fire!”

“Okay, hair!”

“I see you!”

“Yassssssss, body!”

“You better show them how to do it!”

“Them shoes are it!”

“You better wear that dress!”

With laughter, I blew kisses and did a cute little curtsy. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

I was swarmed by my family and friends. They were hugging me three and four people at a time. I couldn’t stop smiling as I absorbed the quick hugs and abundance of love. I was being bombarded, so it caught me off guard when I turned around and saw him.

“We meet again,” Marcus greeted me, pulling me into a tight hug. “You look beautiful, Aaliyah. Happy birthday.”

“Marcus! Hi! Thank you,” I replied. “Thank you for being here.” I brushed his shoulder off. “You clean up nice.”

He chuckled and then swept his hands down his light blue shirt. “I do what I can do. I appreciate you inviting me.” He looked over to his mother, who was talking to mine. “I appreciate you allowing me to come even though our mothers have conspired for me to be here.”

I snickered behind my hand. “Well, I hope you enjoy yourself, and I’m glad you could make it. That means I’m not the only one with my mom here.”

He laughed. “True. And I’m not the only one with a mom who meddles.”

“Facts! That’s an absolute fact.”

Someone walked by and grabbed my arm to tell me happy birthday. I thanked them, and when I turned back to Marcus, he was staring at me.

I smiled.

“Okay, so…” he started. “When we met a couple months ago, you were single. If that’s still the case, I’d love to give you my number.”

“Dinner service will begin in five minutes,” the caterer announced. “Aaliyah, please report to the kitchen.”

Everyone had scattered to different bathrooms to wash their hands before taking a seat at the elegantly set table.

“Go take care of what you need to take care of,” he told me with a smile. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Before I had a chance to respond, he winked at me and turned to walk away.

I didn’t have a chance to really process the exchange, but his confidence was sexy.

Nina and Jazz grabbed me, and together, we walked into the kitchen.

“Who was that?” Nina scream-whispered, clutching my arm.

“I thought you didn’t have a date,” Jazz chimed in. “But it looks like you do.”

“That was Marcus,” I told them quietly.

“If this is the caliber of man your mom is trying to put you on with, let her know I’m single, too,” Nina commented.

“Oh God,” Jazz groaned with an eye roll. “Keep it in your pants, Nina. Let Aaliyah have something. It’s her birthday, for God’s sake!”

We all laughed.

After tasting the signature drink and confirming it was perfect, I headed to the bathroom on the other side of the kitchen with my two best friends.

“Okay, tell me about your dates,” I demanded as soon as we closed the door behind us.

We did a quick update about Nina’s date that she described as a friend with benefits. We did an even briefer update about Jazz’s “friend.” But from the few minutes I spent with them, I knew they both were in denial. There was more brewing between them.

I eyed them and pursed my lips. “You two were giving me such a hard time last night, and yet, here the two of you are… in love.”

“What?” they screeched in unison as I walked out of the bathroom laughing.

“Love?! You have some nerve,” Nina snapped, putting her hands on her hips. “You done lost your whole mind!”

“Your judgment is clearly clouded,” Jazz assessed. She gestured to my hair. “I think that blowout blew out your common sense.”

“It’s my birthday,” I told them, flipping my hair over my shoulder dramatically. “You have to let me have my predictions.”

They shook their heads.

“Your birthday is over in six hours. We will be circling back to this blasphemy,” Nina grumbled. “Love? Nonsense.”

“Exactly. Just because you want love doesn’t mean that’s what I want,” Jazz muttered just before we entered the dining room area.

Everyone was already seated and talking among themselves as the server finished filling the glasses. I’d had them remove the chairs that would’ve been occupied by my grandma, my uncle, and my date so there were no empty spaces. I got to the head of the table, and Nina sat to the right of me and Jazz sat to the left. I remained standing and grabbed my glass.

“Hi, everyone,” I greeted the table to a round of cheers. “Thank you all for being here. You all look amazing. The men look dapper, and the women look gorgeous. I appreciate you getting all dolled up and coming to spend my thirtieth birthday with me. It truly means a lot to have you here. Tonight is a celebration of me. But more than that, tonight is a celebration of life.” I made eye contact with my parents and exhaled. “Moving into this new decade of life, I am celebrating the fact that I am me. I am exactly who I am supposed to be. And I am so thankful to have you here celebrating that fact, too.” I lifted my glass. “So, if you’ll join me in blessing the food…”

That was my mom’s cue.

She stood up and blessed the meal we were about to be served, and then the servers brought out the first course.

The hors d’oeuvres set the bar high, and then the appetizer raised the stakes. The salad was good, but it was the dressing that made it delicious. The chicken served with the main course was the juiciest and tenderest I’d had in a long time. By the time our plates were cleared, I wasn’t sure if I was going to have room for dessert. But the lemon tart looked too good to pass up. The only reason I didn’t finish it was because my dress was tight, and I didn’t want to overstuff myself.

As seven thirty approached, the plates were starting to be cleared and photos were being taken. It felt like I’d said goodbye to my mom and dad, and then fifteen minutes later, everyone except for me was outside of the lake house getting the party started. The fire in the pit had been lit, the DJ had started playing music, and the well-fed guests were ready to burn off some calories. All the ingredients for the perfect night were there, and I was so excited to change into my sexy dress and enjoy myself.

So what if I don’t have a date? I don’t need one to have a good time. It’s my thirtieth birthday!

“I’m coming. I’m coming. I’m coming. I’m just going to get changed, and then I’ll be right out,” I explained to Jazz when she came to check on me. “I’m just telling Chef Mason how incredible her food was.”

“Hands down one of the best meals I’ve ever had,” Jazz gushed. “I’m going to have to hire you for something, anything!”

“Thank you,” Tiana Mason replied. “I don’t cater private events anymore, but I’d booked this before I got my dream job.”

I didn’t know her personally, but I was happy to hear that she got her dream job. I was even more thrilled to know that everyone was going to be talking about the food for the rest of the year.

Jazz and I left the kitchen.

“It won’t take me long to change,” I assured her.

She went back outside, and I headed upstairs. It took me way longer than it should have because my feet were killing me. I’d just managed to get to my room and step out of my heels when there was a knock at the door.

“Give me about five minutes so I can change!” I yelled in a singsong tone, suspecting it was Nina.

I stripped out of the dress I was wearing, grabbed the satiny dress from the hanger, and then slipped it on. Where the first dress was structured with heavier material, the second dress was light, sexy satin that caressed my skin. The dress was clingy in all the right places. It was short. It was backless. It required me to be without a bra.

I did a little turn in the mirror before sliding into my crocodile flats. While the heels were more of a look, I wasn’t going to be able to dance in them. I could barely walk in them. But I was willing to sacrifice for fashion. Stepping back into my heels, I grabbed the flats and carried them in my hand.

I’ll make my grand entrance to the party in the heels, and then I’ll change into the flats immediately after,I decided with a definitive nod.

Teetering down the steps, I rolled my shoulders back and held in my pain. I’d just dropped my flats next to the staircase when I heard a low whistle.

Glancing over my shoulder, I was surprised to see Marcus.

“You’re ruining my grand entrance,” I told him playfully as I let him catch up to me. “I thought everyone was outside.”

“I had to use the restroom, but let me assure you”—he looked me up and down—“nothing was ruined. You look incredible.”

He offered me his arm, and I took it.

“Thank you,” I said, basking in his compliment.

He reached for the door and opened it. “Allow me.”

Stepping back and smiling up at him, I held his gaze. Okay, Marcus!

“After you,” he said.

I broke eye contact and allowed him to usher me out into the waiting crowd. Everyone started singing “Happy Birthday” as I walked down the sidewalk. Not wanting to fall, I held on to Marcus’s arm tight as I approached the firepit. Looking around, I relished the celebration of me.

I let go of Marcus so I could stand alone and bask in the moment. He joined the crowd while Nina and Jazmyn carried the cake my mom had purchased with a big thirty candle.

“Make a wish,” they said in unison.

I closed my eyes tight and took a breath.

I wish for continued peace. And love. Continued peace and love.I blew out the candle. Amen.

Everyone clapped, and I opened my eyes.

Nina and Jazz placed the cake on the table and then hugged me tight.

“Now meet me on the dance floor so we can show the birthday girl some love!” The DJ’s directive caused a wave of movement. “Stand around the perimeter.”

My stomach plummeted.

I’d forgotten that I was supposed to dance to my favorite India Davis song with my date.

Shit.

I stared at the dance floor while everyone got set. I felt the wave of panic as it dawned on me that I didn’t have a date. I didn’t have anyone to dance with, and I’d forgotten to tell the DJ to either cut that part completely or change the song to something upbeat so I could dance with my friends. My Cinderella moment where all eyes were on me in the middle of the dance floor with my prince was quickly turning into my Black Swan moment.

I’ve lost my mind.

Nina looped her arm with my left, and Jazz grabbed my right hand. Looking between my best friends, I felt comforted and reminded that I was enough.

It wasn’t like I’d told the world that I had a man, and I was going to debut him at the party. But I hated that I’d planned a whole thing and forgot to cancel. I was kicking myself as we made our way to the dance floor.

The DJ was oblivious as he smiled and gave me a nod. Before I could respond, he started playing the song.

“We can dance together, or we can find Marcus,” Jazz offered quietly as we approached.

I looked between them. “Stay with me,” I whispered to them.

I didn’t know that man.

I turned to the DJ to try to get his attention. I was going to have him change the song, but he’d started speaking.

“We’re going to make sure all eyes are on Aaliyah right now. She’s the birthday girl, and we’re going to make sure she feels all this love.”

Everyone clapped behind me, but I was still facing the DJ. My eyes were shooting daggers at him. He apparently wasn’t picking up what I was hinting at or understanding that I was trying to stop what was happening, because he kept talking, pressed play, and then gave me a thumbs-up.

Sighing, I turned around and grabbed my best friends’ hands as the most romantic song played. Onlookers observed in what I knew had to be quiet confusion. Closing my eyes, I blocked them out and just grooved to the music.

I felt my girls stop swaying before I knew why.

“Excuse me,” a deep voice interrupted, catching me off guard.

My eyes flew open as the familiarity ran down my spine.

“Can I have this dance?”