Chapter 34 Nyree
I blew through my meeting with a new prospective client who wanted professional headshots for their LinkedIn profile, my mind on Asia the whole time. After that meeting, I had two phone calls and a video conference to do with another potential celebrity client, then I would be free.
Me and Asia needed to decide what we were going to do about our living arrangements.
I wouldn't mind breaking my lease because her apartment was bigger and better, not to mention cleaner.
But at the same time, I felt a sense of reluctance.
We just made a huge move without thinking.
What if I moved in with her and it didn't work out?
Yeah, I could get another apartment but still.
Moving all my stuff into her apartment and giving up my own place was a big move. What if we didn't get along?
I could hear my father's disappointed tone in the back of my mind.
"Nyree, I always tell you, a man without a plan is not a man at all.
" My father had never been satisfied with me about anything.
He always pushed me to go harder and do more when I was doing the best I could.
Then he died before I had the chance to make him proud.
Blinking back those thoughts, my ears prickled at the sound of my phone buzzing. I grabbed it up, thinking it was Asia checking in on me but it was my mom.
"Hey," she texted. "Can you stop by my house? I need help moving this couch."
I sighed and quickly texted back saying I would be there when I finished work. My mom was always rearranging furniture when she got bored.
I went through the rest of my meetings and conference and thankfully, they all went well.
When I pulled up to my mom's house, I noticed her neighbor, Mrs. Debra, sweeping her porch. She waved at me, and I nodded back, forcing a smile. I wasn't in the mood for small talk today. Not with everything swirling in my head about Asia, our marriage, and the decision about our living situation.
Mom opened the door before I could even knock. She was wearing her usual loungewear—yoga pants and an oversized t-shirt with her hair pulled back in a scarf. Even at sixty-two, she was still beautiful.
"There's my boy," she said, pulling me in for a hug. She smelled like cocoa butter and the lavender essential oil she'd been obsessed with lately. "Thanks for coming."
"No problem, Ma." I stepped into the familiar living room where I'd spent most of my childhood. "Where's this couch you need moved?"
She gestured toward the beige sectional that dominated the small space. "I want it against that wall instead. And maybe we can move the TV to the other side of the room."
I sighed. "You know you just had me move this same couch last month, right?"
"That's because I didn't like it there," she said with a shrug. "A woman's allowed to change her mind."
I bit back a comment about how changing furniture layouts wouldn't fill the emptiness in the house since Dad died. Instead, I started pushing the couch where she wanted it. Mom helped by moving the coffee table and the small side tables out of the way.
"So," she said casually as we worked, "how's Asia doing?"
I glanced up at her, suspicious of her tone. "She's good."
"That's nice." She paused, arranging a throw pillow that had fallen. "She's a sweet girl. Pretty, too."
"Yeah, she is." I continued pushing the couch, grunting with the effort.
"Have you talked more about your engagement?" she asked, but the way she said it let me know her feelings.
There it was. I should have known this furniture-moving request was a setup for a deeper conversation. Ma never just wanted help moving furniture. She wanted a captive audience.
"We're adults, Ma. We know what we're doing." I adjusted the couch one final time and stood up straight, wiping sweat from my forehead.
She gave me that look—the one that said she didn't believe me but was too polite to say so.
"I'm just saying, baby. You don't even have your feet on the ground yet.
" She sat down on the newly positioned couch, patting the spot next to her.
"I'm proud of you for your recent clients, but I think you should be more established first."
I sat beside her. "More established? Ma, I'm working with multiple celebrity clients now. I'm doing well."
"I know, I know." She patted my knee. "But marriage is a big step. And you haven't even been dating this girl that long."
If she only knew we were already married. The guilt of not telling her caused me to look away.
"Look, Ma," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "Me and Asia are gonna be together, regardless. I just need you to be happy for us." I winced, hoping I didn't sound rude.
Her expression hardened. She sat up straighter, smoothing her pants over her knees. "Okay, do what you want to do. But hear me good when I say this: a hard head makes a soft ass. Don't say I didn't warn you."
The old saying was one of Dad's favorites and it hit me like a slap.
"It's not like that, Ma."
"Then what is it like?" She turned to face me.
"Because from where I'm sitting, it looks like you're rushing into something without thinking it through.
Just like you did with that apartment lease you signed without reading the fine print.
Just like you did with that expensive camera equipment you bought before you had the clients to justify it. "
I stood, irritated now. "Those were different situations. This is about my relationship—my future."
"Exactly!" She threw up her hands. "Your future! That's what I'm worried about, Nyree. You're my only son. I want what's best for you."
"And you don't think Asia is what's best for me?"
She sighed, softening. "I didn't say that. I like Asia. She seems lovely. I'm just saying you should take your time. What's the rush?"
"Sometimes you just know, Ma." It was the best I could come up with.
"Hmm." She didn't look convinced. "Your father and I dated for three years before we got married. And even then, we had our struggles."
I tensed at the mention of my father. "Yeah, well, Dad's not here to weigh in on this, is he?"
As soon as the words left my mouth, I regretted them. Pain flashed across her face.
"I'm sorry, Ma. I didn't mean—"
"It's fine." She stood up and straightened her shirt. "Let's move the TV stand now."
We worked in silence for a while, rearranging the TV and entertainment center.
I knew I hurt her, but I didn't know how to fix it. Dad’s sudden death from a stroke came at the worst possible time for us.
Me and Dad were at odds back then, so we never got to resolve our issues, and he and Ma’s fifteenth wedding anniversary was barely a month away too, so of course she was devastated.
When we finished, Ma offered me a glass of sweet tea. I accepted, hoping it was an olive branch.
We sat at her small kitchen table, the same one I'd done my homework at as a kid. The afternoon sun slanted through the window, casting warm light across the familiar space.
"Your father would have told you to slow down about Asia." She looked up at me. "He would have said there's no need to rush something that's meant to be."
I swallowed hard, thinking about what I was going to say next. I couldn't tell her we were already married. But I needed her to understand.
"I hear you, Ma. I do. But I love her." It was the simplest truth I could offer. "I've never felt this way about anyone."
Her expression softened, though I could still see a sense of reluctance in her eyes. "I know you do, baby. Just be careful. That's all I'm asking."
I nodded, unable to meet her eyes. "I promise."
After helping her move a few more pieces of furniture, I said my goodbyes. She hugged me tight at the door.
"I love you, Nyree."
"I love you too, Ma."
As I walked to my car, Mrs. Debra was still on her porch, now sitting in a rocking chair with what looked like iced tea. She waved again, and this time I waved back.
I pulled away from my mother's house, her words echoing in my head. A hard head makes a soft ass. Don't say I didn't warn you.
The saying made sense but it didn’t apply in every situation.
As I pulled up outside Asia's building, I took a deep breath. Time to go see my wife.