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“They heard you were the business and they wanted you on their team, huh?” Travis said.
“Yep,” I smiled.
“Which law firm?” Kerem asked.
“Valentine Law Group.”
“We tried to get their business at the bank but the head guy, um, what’s his name…” Kerem looked at the ceiling in thought.
“Samuel Valentine?” I helped.
“Yeah, he was dead set on using a black-owned bank to handle his finances. We tried every incentive we could think of, and he turned us down cold. I’m not mad though. I understand.”
“I understand too,” Keeva chimed in. “I put most of my money in Kerem’s bank, but I do have an account atFreedom Credit Union. If he ever leaves his bank, all my money is going with him!”
We all laughed.
“Valentine, why does that name sound familiar?” my dad asked.
“His name is on that big glass building downtown, Big Dell,” Kerem answered.
“I’ve seen that, but the name is ringing a bell for some other reason,” my dad responded.
“He was falsely accused of murdering two white people and spent some time in jail before they found evidence to throw out the case,” I answered.
“Oh, right. I remember reading about that years ago. Yeah, that’s why his name is familiar. Congratulations baby. I’m sure you will do well.”
“Thank you, Daddy.”
“It would be even nicer if she finally brought home a young man for us to meet,” my mother added.
“Mommy, really?” Keeva jumped to my defense.
“I’m just saying,” My mother continued, “You are not getting any younger. You need to meet someone and settle down. Make someone a good home and build a legacy.”
“Mommy, I think she is building a legacy. I mean, how many young black women do we know who have their own successful law firm?” Kenzie asked.
My sisters always came to my rescue.
“I’m not saying her success is not good. It’s great, and I am so proud, but there is more to life than work.”
“Mommy, she has time to do all of what you said, if she wants to,” Keeva added.
“Time is something we have, but we don’t know how much. You can’t live your life like you are going to be here forever. Look at Myrtle’s daughter…”
“Oh, my gawd,” my sister and I said at the same time.
My mother always used her old friend Myrtle’s daughter as an example of something terrible happening to someone young. She also used it for her life is short speech.
“No, no Myrtle’s daughter probably thought she had a long life ahead of her too and look what happened. She was walking down the street, minding her own business and a window ac unit fell and hit her. Poof, she was no longer here! She had plans. She had goals. Did she get to finish anything? No!”
“Mommy, this argument is tired. Just let her live her own life,” Kenzie pleaded.
“I’ve wanted to ask you this, Averie. Your answer will not change how I feel, but I need to know. Are you gay?”
“Mom!”
“Mommy!”
