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Chapter 10
Later that night, aftera fantastic cathartic day of finally making peace with God about my mother and having cancer, we were enjoying a steak and lobster meal at one of the restaurants on the resort. The live band played a nice mix of Caribbean and jazz music. Bakari listened intently to me as I animatedly told him about growing up with a popular brother. “Tavaris could do no wrong in my parents’ eyes. It was absolutely crazy to me how he would get away with so much.”
Bakari cut a sliver of his ribeye. “I grew up similarly. My brother was everyone’s fav in the family and in the neighborhood. Everyone loved him. I was a reserved and quiet child. He didn’t know the meaning of being still and self-contained.”
“At least you were both boys. Bet whatever he did, you could do too. The worst part of growing up with Tavaris was the double standard. When he was fourteen, he came home late with passion marks on his neck, and no one uttered a word. I was told I couldn’t date until I was a senior in high school. It didn’t help that my mother, who I adored, upheld my father’s biased rules.”
“Honestly, I would be the same with my daughter. She can’t date until after college, and if her mother disagrees, we’re fighting for custody.”
I threw my hands up in frustration. “Why, oh, why are men like this?”
He grinned. “Because we know how men think about women, and that shit is fucked up.”
“You and the rest of your kinfolk are such narcissistic assholes. Men need to check themselves and their sons when raising them to stop all this misogynistic thinking. Women don’t exist simply for your pleasure.”
“Wish I could say you were lying about how we think.” He finished his old fashion and placed the glass down. “I need to dry out for at least a week. All this free liquor is getting to me. I don’t think I’ve ever drunk this much in my life from the moment I wake up until I go to sleep.”
I took a sip of my Bob Marley, which had become a standard with every meal except breakfast which was pineapple mimosas. “I feel you. I’m becoming a real-life lush. I’ll need at least a month before I touch alcohol again.”
Bakari chuckled. “Two months. You’ve really been throwing them drinks back.”
“Ha ha.” I sobered thinking of going back home. Back to my lonely apartment. “I might need to drink more once I get back.”
“Why?”
I met his quizzical gaze. “I won’t have this.” I gestured between us.
“You will again,” he reassured.
“What if I don’t?” I asked.
“You’re thirty-two years old. That’s fucked up thinking if you think love won’t happen for you.”
“I know I’ll have dates and meet men with whom I’m attracted. But a true connection is rare. Deep love is like finding a pearl in a barrel of oysters.” I looked down at the remains of my delicious dinner. “You wouldn’t understand because you have a woman waiting for you back home.”
He picked up my hand. “I do understand. Just because I have a woman waiting for me at home doesn’t mean I question whether I will find that deep connection. And you’re too good of a woman for that not to happen to you again.”
His holding my hand tenderly, the caring that shone through his brown eyes, and the candlelit table enhanced the romance of it all.
“What if I want it to be you? Who cares that you have a woman back home? She’s not your wife or someone you seem to truly love, or you wouldn’t be here with me. There’s nothing that says we can’t see if this experience can be a real thing. We can at least try. If we don’t work, we don’t.”
He tightened his grip on my hand and pulled me up. “Come on, let’s dance.”
“So, we’re not going to talk about what I just said?” I said as I followed him to the space in front of the band where other couples danced.
“No matter what I say, if it’s not what you want to hear, it’ll end badly.” Bakari placed my arms around his waist. “Let’s enjoy the night, okay?”
I looked up at him. “You just answered my question.”
His jaw clenched although he tugged me to him, and we swayed to the music. I could feel the thud of his heartbeat against my ear. He was right. Unless he said he wanted to try dating once we made it back to the states, nothing he would say would matter. The somber mood that started to descend upon me at the table worsened the longer we danced. Then the band changed tunes, and as soon as I heard the first notes ofThe Sweetest Thingby Lauryn Hill, I pushed against his chest. “I have to go.”
Bakari looked down. “What’s wrong?”
“I can’t.” I hurried off the dance floor and out of the door. I’d made it a few steps before Bakari grabbed my arm.
“Nikki, come on. What happened? Is it about me not answering your question?”
I buried my face in his chest. “It’s my wedding song.”
