Chapter 26 Niyi
Niyi
BEFORE I REALIZED MY FATHER AIN’T SHIT, I SPENT MOST OF my childhood studying astrology.
Post-realization, I spent the rest of it working towards a financially sensible career, so I could leave my ain’t-shit father.
As a result, young Niyi didn’t get a lot of time outside.
Especially not doing things like jumping rope or skipping.
Therefore, I’m shocked to find myself skipping all the way home. I didn’t even know I could do that, but I can’t help it after being with Moyo.
I held her in my arms, looked into her smoldering, brown eyes, and tasted her. It was everything I didn’t know I needed.
Each step is like walking on a cloud. Almost as if I am Mercury, winged feet and all.
The cold is inconsequential with Moyo’s captivating scent lingering on my skin.
Every gust of wind brings the intoxicating smell up to my nose.
I make a mental note to send a thank-you letter to Elder Teda, Uranus, wherever they are… possibly the , for the blustery winds.
Still giddy on Moyo, once I get home, I pull out my sketchbook, turn on my classical music playlist, and get lost exploring abstract shapes and unconventional designs to try out in the studio.
Vivaldi’s “Spring Largo” permeates the room as my designs go from malleable structures to pieces I’ll need Aaron’s help with taking from 2D to 3D.
Most are a mess, uncoordinated, raw, but they flow effortlessly.
The sketches begin to lose form, my pace decreasing and inspiration lacking until I think, What would Moyo like?
Her smile pops into my mind, and this time, her image fuels my concentration. The music fades and all that’s left is her. The full cheeks, wide smile, and hair that rivals the clouds. She comes into view, and I move faster.
I think of her love for her work, her organizational prowess, her dedication to her friendships, and her movies.
Her movies! The idea strikes like lightning.
The idea doesn’t take shape in my head, but my fingers interpret it expertly, putting form to paper.
Recalling the green all over Moyo’s home, the perfect complimentary color comes to mind—ochre.
Earthy, to mesh with her aesthetic, but dynamic enough to contrast with the space.
When I’m done, the adrenaline lessens, and I feel a hand violently shaking my shoulder.
“Yo, Merc, what the fuck?” I move away from my cousin’s grip. A wave of nausea hits.
Merc’s face is transfixed in a face-splitting grin. “When did this happen? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“What?”
“You did it.”
Still lost, I reply, “Yeah, I did some sketches…”
“You didn’t feel it?” Merc asks, and my confusion magnifies. “You activated The Sight, right? I think you were just using it. Why didn’t you say anything? Change your mind?”
My head snaps back and I shake it wildly. The Sight? I’d know if I unlocked that. Wouldn’t I? I should’ve felt a buzz in my veins, or my blood should be charged like Sprite.
“There’s no way,” I reply. I was only drawing and thinking about Moyo.
“It’s morning.”
As soon as the words leave Merc’s mouth, I open my blinds to sunlight.
It’s been hours and I didn’t even notice the time passing.
“I did it,” I mutter, stunned. Time flew by and I rode the wave.
“I came over to apologize for the other day…” Merc says softly, sitting beside me. “I shouldn’t have gotten heated like that. Your experience with this family thing is yours, and I should’ve listened. I should’ve stayed and heard you out.”
“’Preciate it. I shouldn’t have raised my voice first.”
“I know the job’s been hard for you, but I’ve enjoyed our time together. Yeah, we work together, but we’re also like…” Merc pauses, seemingly searching for the right word.
“Like family?”
“It’s been different, with you as Saturn. Your dad made Vee and I efficient—Cupid’s Bow at its prime. But with you, we’ve learned how to not only focus on the work.”
They learned something from me?
“Y’all taught me parts of this family are worth having,” I say, honestly.
“So…we good?” Merc asks.
“Yeah, we good.”
We hug it out.
When they pull back, they say, “I also came over to ask if you really wanted me to find the Jakandes, but you were locked in.” I roll my eyes. “Plus, I’ve never seen a Saturn work before. What was it like?” they ask.
Is this just a Saturn thing? Is this how my father felt? Is this why he quit? Is this why he was never around? Is that why he never noticed what was going on with Mom? Questions bang around in my skull. My stomach bubbles, the contents threatening to rise in my throat.
“Ah, the nausea,” Merc says, their voice drifting like it’s a fond memory. “It’ll pass.”
“Is there a way to…” I struggle to find the words, “not get that sucked in?” I never want to experience this unsettling feeling again. The zone was easy to slip into, and I’m not gonna lie, it was addicting. If Merc hadn’t stopped me, I’m not sure I would’ve stopped.
“I’m not sure how it works for you, but for Mercuries, the trick is working through an anchor because unfortunately, we have to be all-in for it to work. It’s why we love our gadgets.”
“I was just sucked into a zone.” My stomach flips over.
“It’s called The Sight because it gives us insight into another plane.
For the most part, we’re humans cosplaying gods but when we’re in that zone, our consciousness no longer exists in this realm.
” Merc shrugs and carries on like they didn’t just provide life-changing news. “Didn’t Uncle B mention it?”
My head shakes on its own accord. “No,” I say, remembering all the moments I’d ask about how work was, or I’d tell him how weak Mom was, and he wouldn’t reply.
When I was older, I’d ask if I could help him, and he’d respond that he needed to focus.
All the times between elementary school and going to college, I wondered how exactly being Saturn and playing matchmaker took up so much time.
Everything feels like it’s turned on its head. I thought The Sight would be something I could control, not something that would control me.
“You should ask him. Maybe he has advice,” Merc says. “Now that you have The Sight, do you still want to relinquish the role?” they ask slowly. “Really think about it. If it is what you want, I’ll help, but consider everything before deciding.”
I have The Sight. I finally unlocked it. I could do the job…be Saturn and become someone who loses hours at a time. I thought my dad was special, getting together with my mom and having me, but after seeing the full extent of the power, I know he was selfish.
My mom passed when I was about ten and she seemed happy, despite everything, but there’s no way that Dad could have been a healthy partner when his very being didn’t allow him to be present.
I will not be making that mistake. Maybe that’s why Dad gave me the power when I was single.
Maybe he thought I’d fall in love with being Saturn, the way he did after Mom passed, and I wouldn’t find the time to fall in love with anything else.
Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. One thing is clear, I can’t bring Moyo into this complicated situation.
“Niyi,” Merc says, redirecting me back to our conversation, “do you still want me to find the Jakandes and see if there’s anyone willing to take the mantle?”
With the freedom to live a normal life on my mind, I answer, “Abso-fucking-lutely.”
Date #3
THE DOORBELL RINGS, AND FOR ONCE, I WELCOME THE sound.
I look in the mirror, fluffing my curls and applying one last coat of gloss before opening the door. Niyi’s there, smile wider than ever. The black sweater he has on contrasts with my white sweater dress.
“Hi,” he says.
“Hey.”
I lock my door, then step closer to him. His fingers immediately find mine, and we fit like a glove. The spark from all the earlier times we’ve touched is present, and this time, I get to appreciate the current.
“So, where are we going?” I ask, noticing his car isn’t here.
“Wine tasting, except it’s my personal collection.” He pauses to assess my reaction. “Thought going to my place would give us privacy, and the space to talk after.”
“You’re inviting me over?”
“If you’d do me the honor.”
“Let’s see how you live,” I say.
He laughs. “Why do I feel like I’m about to get judged?”
“Lean into it, you’ll survive. Maybe.”
“I’m at your mercy, Sunshine.” He squeezes my hand. I squeeze back, fighting the urge to kiss him on our walk. And from the gleam in his eyes, I imagine he’s thinking the same thing.
I pause when my favorite house in the neighborhood catches my eye. The light green roof and complementary mint walls with stone veneer siding at the bottom look as stunning as usual.
“You like that house?” Niyi asks.
“Gorgeous roof, well-kept lawn, what’s not to love?” I respond and then notice the amusement on his face.
“What?” I ask.
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a set of keys. “Ready to see the inside?”
My jaw drops. The longer I’m in his presence, the more things I discover, but this takes the cake. There’s no way Niyi owns my dream house.
If all his surprises are this good, I might have to deviate from my plans more often. If I’d stuck with my perfectionist ways, I never would have met Niyi. Funny how life works.
“You’re joking?”
“I’d never.” He leads us up the steps. “Welcome to my humble abode.”
The black leather couch catches my eye first. Then I’m drawn to all the ceramic details littered around the living room. A white-and-green striped jewelry bowl sits on the coffee table, along with a thin, dark-green cylinder vase and a few white-and-gray marbled coasters.
“How’d I do?” Niyi asks, recapturing my attention.
I take my eyes from the beautiful details to his stunning face. “Better than I expected. Not perfect,” I tease, and he rolls his eyes, “but decent.”
“I’ll take it. Let me show you where we’ll have our date.”
The exterior of the house is gorgeous. The details in his living room are comforting. But this scene he created in the garden is spectacular. When did he do all this? It’s barely been twenty-four hours since he was at my place.
A table with multiple wine bottles and different glasses sits on one side of the garden. The table beside it has different dishes wrapped in foil. The most shocking details are the giant white tent and the inflatable movie screen.
“Niyi, this is…” My words trail off as he guides me around, and I take everything in.
Like our practice dinner date, strings of lights beautify the environment. Up close, I see five different wine bottles and containers of small chops. When we get to the tent, the heat welcomes me, and I happily take off my jacket.
“You didn’t have to do all of this,” I say, settling into the cozy pillows and blankets.
“I didn’t have to, but I wanted to. I always want to do things for you,” Niyi says, and like all the previous times he’s told me, my heart flutters. Is this the kind of care my dad talks about? Is this what I’ve been missing out on?
“Where do you want to start? Food, drinks, movie—all of the above?”
“One of everything,” I say, feeling cared for.
“I’ll be right back.”
“Wait,” I call after him, and Niyi pauses. “What’s the movie?”
“You’ll see.”
Soon, he’s back with a bottle, two glasses, and a plate of snacks.
The plate rests on his forearm, and his eyes are focused on the puff-puff, spring rolls, and samosas.
I almost laugh at his concentration, but I help him by taking the plate and setting it on the blanket.
Niyi puts the wine in an ice bucket on a stool and the glasses beside them.
He wipes his hands on his dark pants and joins me on the soft cream blanket. “I didn’t think through the transportation part of this.”
“Maybe not quite,” I laugh.
“Must you agree with me?”
“When I disagree, it’s an issue. And now, when I agree, it’s a problem. How do I win?”
“You win all the time,” Niyi says, cozying up to me. His face rests in the crook of my neck, allowing me to smell the lavender and sandalwood of his cologne.
“That is true,” I whisper, shutting my eyes as I breathe him in. The scent takes me back to the night before, and I squeeze my thighs.
Niyi pulls back. “Sorry, I got a little carried away.”
“No, it’s fine.”
“I’m not being a great date.” Niyi clears his throat. “I have some drinks to introduce and a movie to show you.”
“Or we can continue where we left off yesterday,” I say suggestively, listening to my hormones.
“Moyo,” he says, and my name, usually a prayer on his tongue, comes out like a growl. “One drink and let me show you the movie. Then you can devour me. Is that okay?”
My thighs clench. I nod.
Niyi exhales.
“Here’s a Cava. It’s from outside Barcelona.” Niyi pours us two glasses.
The bubbles dance on my tongue. It’s different from what I’m used to, but there’s a familiarity I struggle to name…because of how intently Niyi’s looking at me.
“Not drinking yours?” I ask.
“I’m thirsty for something else.” He winks, and I practically choke on the wine. “Enjoy the drink. I’ll be right back, just turning on the projector.”
I don’t care what the movie is. When Niyi returns, I’m kissing him, and that’s that.
This time, Niyi returns with a remote control and a different type of wine.
“Pinot Noir,” he says, placing it in the ice bucket. “And our movie. I think you might know this one.”
The screen is dark, but I know exactly what it is even before the title card plays. Still, I wait an additional second for confirmation before freaking out.
Scream pops up on the screen, followed by the iconic telephone ringing.
“How did you know?” I ask, ignoring Drew Barrymore as she unknowingly talks to Ghostface.
Niyi studies the mixed look of shock and delight on my face. His smile widens as he watches me, and I beam back in response.
“I wish you could see the look on your face. You look so happy, and I love that I’m able to do that for you.” He caresses my cheek. I lean into his touch.
“I love it, but how did you know Scream was my favorite movie?”
“I arranged your Blu-rays—”
“You didn’t say DVDs, I’m so proud,” I interject.
Niyi laughs. “And Scream was the most worn-out.”
Again, I’m left speechless.
“You always do this.”
“Do what?”
“Shock me with your kindness and thoughtfulness.” I throw my arms over his shoulders, pulling him closer. This time, I don’t hold back. The kiss starts soft as our lips get reacquainted, slow and delicate.
Niyi pulls away. “But…your…movie…” he stutters as my nails graze his nape.
“Niyi, darling, who gives a fuck about movies?”
I pull him into another kiss. I can rewatch Scream another time; I need Niyi now.