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Hailo paused again, trying to decide which thoughts she wanted to share. “The girls want to come and help me get the nursery together if that’s okay.”
Hailo was the definition of complex simplicity. She had complicated feelings and could go from standing her ground and ready to battle anybody in her way to being shy and nervous like the woman awaiting an answer. She was complex, but I was learning that the solution was simple. Hailo just wanted to feel safe, understood, and loved.
“It’s your home too. You don’t need to ask my permission for your friends to come.”
“My home would never feel so cold and stoic,” she looked around my office with her face frowned up.
“I thought I had a nice house?”
“It is nice, but it just screams Gianni. Not Gianni and Hailo.”
“And what does my house say about me?” I asked, closing my laptop and setting it on the table.
“You’re structured and like things to go your way which is why everything in here looks like it’s on display at a museum. It just doesn’t feel homey,” she hunched, adjusting on the couch because getting comfortable this late in her pregnancy was a struggle. “And certainly not kid friendly.”
“I guess we have to change that to make it more homey for you, whatever that means.”
Hailo pulled the throw blanket up on her chest, sending her phone flying on the floor.
“Don’t. I got that.”
“I’m pregnant, not handicapped. I can do things for myself,” she fussed.
“You do plenty,” I leaned over and grabbed it because it was easier for me to maneuver. “Just not picking up shit, especially when I’m right here.”
“You know I pick up things when you’re not around?”
“I’m sure you do a lot of shit you’re not supposed to when I’m gone.”
“Thank you.”
“If you wouldn’t congratulate a car for driving or a fish for swimming, stop thanking me for doing my job. Taking care of you is the bare minimum of what any nigga is supposed to do.”
Standing up, I lent Hailo both hands to do the same. She stopped in the kitchen to grab a snack as we headed upstairs.
“Gi,” She called out, clinging to the doorframe since she had reached her destination first. “Can you hang out with us for a little?”
We weren’t rushing anything, which made our lives a lot easier. Part of that was sleeping in separate rooms. Being the gentleman that I was, I gave Hailo the master suite, and I was down the hallway.
“Big bad Hailo scared to sleep by herself?”
“I’m not scared,” she quickly retorted, a lot more feisty than she was in my office.
I strode down the hallway and made myself comfortable, not realizing how much I missed being in my own bed. Patting beside me, Hailo joined me, and I chuckled, watching her struggle with a simple task like getting in bed.
“What’s so funny?”
“You know it’s okay to be scared, right? You don’t have to be a tough guy all the time.”
“Oh really? So, what is the great and powerful Gianni Meraux afraid of?”
I had to do the same if I wanted Hailo to trust me with everything she didn’t openly discuss. It still wasn’t easy to admit, so I hesitated.
“That we never figure this shit out. Twenty years from now, I don’t want to be still looking for a way out and wishing for a way out. I want to look at you like damn, she gets on my nerves, but I’m happy,” I admitted, stroking her stomach. We weren’t the only ones awake.
I looked at my aunt and uncle and saw two people who tolerated each other because that was easier than admitting how miserable they were being married. Every story didn’t have a happy ending. The way our luck was going, I wouldn’t be surprised if ours didn’t, either.
“You promised I would fall in love with you, and we’d be happy.” Her childlike tone caused me to smile.
