Page 38 of Betrothed To Love

“I’m full,” she confirms, then exhales.

“I think I am too,” I admit. “But I want to talk to you before we go home, okay?”

“Okay, Daddy.”

“I want to talk about Miss Mireya,” I begin and she smiles. “She’s my new friend and I really like her.”

“I like her too. She nice,” she says with a smile.

“Well, since we both like her, she’s going to be coming around more and spending time with us. We will probably go to her house and she’ll be visiting ours too.”

“She can draw on my wall with me,” she says excitedly and I relax. For Niya, drawing on her wall is a privilege. Those little words warm my heart because Niya’s cool with Mireya. Figuring out this marriage and its nuances seem easier now because my baby girl is cool.

“She can definitely do that,” I tell her, then kiss her cheek. “You think you gon’ eat some of this tomorrow after school?”

“Yes. Get my legs please. And the corn,” she adds quickly.

I look up for our server and he’s coming toward our section. I wave him over.

“Can we get this to go? And the check?” I ask.

“All of this?” he confirms before grabbing the tray and my plate.

When he walks off to box up our leftovers, I moisten several paper towels with the water from my cup and thoroughly clean Niya’s hands and mouth then moisten more for myself. Our server returns with our bagged leftovers and the bill. After reviewing it, I tap my card to pay then Niya and I leave.

We make it to the house twenty minutes later and start our nightly routine. Because our mornings start so early, I try to have her in bed by eight, eight-thirty at the latest. After putting up the leftovers, she chooses her snacks for tomorrow and I pack her lunch: turkey and cheese pinwheels, a strawberry yogurt tube, apple slices with peanut butter, and two small water bottles.

“Can I take two chips, Daddy? Teisha don’t have snacks,” Niya says.

“Yeah. Grab some for your friend then head upstairs. I’m coming right up.” She hands me the chips and runs out of the kitchen. “Slow down a little,” I call after her.

The minute her lunch bag and book bag are all packed, I wipe the counters down, grab a mini bottle of water, then head up the stairs. She’s in her room, drawing on her wall. I don’t bother her because I need to run her bath and take out her uniform for the morning. At Diamond Elite, each grade has a specific uniform color. Pre-K and kindergarten are burgundy.

“Let’s see what you got over here,” I say when I stand behind her.

“It’s cubes. I got one, two, three, four, five, six,” she says and points to each with her marker.

“Six green cubes. I like them.”

“Imma do seven tomorrow.”

“Okay, well it’s time to take your bath and brush your teeth,” I tell her and she follows me into the bathroom.

Thankfully, Shuga did her hair Sunday ’cause while I can do everything else for my baby girl, I struggle with all her hair. So, the first thing we do in the bathroom is put on her bonnet. Then I help her onto her little princess stool and she brushes her teeth and gargles. The tub is next. While she bathes, I turn her canopy bed down and find a cartoon movie on KidTV. She likes to fall asleep with the television on but the volume low.

Bath time doesn’t last too long and by twenty minutes to nine, she’s in her pajamas and under her covers. Her little eyes are already heavy; she’ll be asleep before I make it to my room.

“Dream sweet, Daddy,” she mumbles as I kiss her forehead.

“Sweet dreams, baby girl.”

After leaving her door cracked, I walk down the hall to my room. I enter my closet, remove my shoes and Hublot first, then take off my suit. My pile for the cleaners is stacking up and I need to schedule a pickup.

When I’m completely undressed, I enter my bathroom and take a long hot shower. It’s football preseason, so while reviewing my case files for the week, I turn on the last half of the Sharks versus New York game once I’m out of the shower. It’s late, and while I’m a true Sharks’ fan, I can’t concentrate on it or my files because my mind keeps drifting to my wife, Mireya. Taking a chance that she might still be up, I shoot her a text.

Me: You up?

Wifey: Yes.