“I’ll be right down, and I hope you are wearing comfy shoes.”
“I followed your requirements, Ms K.”
“MAK or Makayla, please,” she says, hanging up. For now, I will call her MAK but I feel like I need some insider connection and name for her, not the name everyone calls her. I heard her cousin call her by a different name.
I see the door to the building open and she’s wearing a ruffled tie neck navy blue mini dress with white chucks, wide sunglasses and a straw hat on her head. Nice smooth legs. She gets to the car and opens the passenger door, taking her place next to me. Her floral scent hits my nostrils; I inhale it all. It doesn’t help that her dress rides up a bit, showing her silky tan legs. I want to touch and feel her skin, but instead I grip the steering wheel tight.
“Hi, Uncle Dan,” she says with a goofy grin.
“Hi, Ms K” I reply, matching her goofy grin.
“Fine, you win for now.”Good.
“Where are we headed?” I ask. She reads the address out to me and I enter it into the navigation and pull out onto the street. “Hope you had a good night’s rest.”
“I wish. I got lots of calls from my friends at home and abroad. They kept me up all night talking. Much as I kept saying ‘it’s late I’m going to bed’. Soon as I hang up, the phone rings again.”
“They were happy for you.”
“Yes, they were and so was I, but I needed my sleep.”
“I bet. So, what are we getting for the kids? I’m sure Cara would be happy with whatever you give her.”
“I had ordered a few items from a vendor at the market last week to gift the kids regardless of how we perform, even betternow that we did great; we can pick the items up and find more items the kids might like.”
“So, where did you study music?”
“Nice try, Uncle Dan. This is my date, and I get to ask all the questions.”
“I thought it was our date, and you only picked the location.”
“Fine, I studied music at USC. That’s where I met Jordan before he dropped out. I learned to play the piano from my mom, other instruments with teachers and drums I am self-taught.”
“How many instruments do you play?” I quietly ask. I’m fucking enthralled by this woman.
“Guitar, piano, violin, drums and saxophone.” She raises up her hand and counts on her slender fingers that I want to be putting in my mouth as we speak. “Lately, I don’t touch the sax as much.”
“Any reason why?”
“No.” For an instant, her eyes turn cold.
Hernois firm like it’s an untouchable subject, so for now, I leave it alone.
I steer the conversation to safer waters. "Cara lights up when she talks about her music lessons with you."
"The feeling is mutual. She has a gift for piano—the violin's still a work in progress, but she'll get there with practice."
"With you guiding her, I have no doubt she'll excel."
"That’s the goal, for every student." I study her beautiful face, noting the genuine warmth of her love for music. "Teaching isn't just a job for you, is it?"
“I love teaching, it gives me purpose, and the best part of my day is when the child gets the musical instrument correctly. Their face light up, it’s amazing,” she says. Even she lights up talking about it. I can imagine the moment with her and her student.
“I bet it is.”
We pull up to the market and find parking. MAK and I get out. I get in step next to her. I want to take her hand, but instead I tuck my hands in my pocket and walk beside her. Our pace is slow as we look around the stalls.
“Yesterday, Mrs DeMoore said that you speak three languages. Is that true or was it all hype?” I ask as we move through the crowd.
