Kaya
Three Months Later
Every momentI was away from Brick felt like an eternity, which is why the sweetness of our life ATW (after the wedding) is like a balm to both of our souls.
We walk through the streets of Brooklyn, New York, holding hands, and the feeling of being together is a warm and comforting one. Now that Brick’s contract has been finalized for a whopping $110 million dollars and training camp is just around the corner, we’re hoping to spend as much time with each other as we can before things get hectic.
The sky is painted a rich shade of blue, and a gentle breeze toys with my hair as we make our way through the streets. Everywhere we look, there’s something new and exciting as the neighborhood is bustling with cafes and bars, shops and art galleries.
I love this area where we now live together, and I expect to soak up the vibrant energy of the city when he’s working.
“I want to show you something,” Brick says, his voice filled with an unusual excitement.
I smiled up at him and tighten my grip on his hand. “Show me.”
“We’ve got a few more blocks before we get there.”
As we continue to walk, we talk of family and friends and how far we’ve come.
“Did you talk to your dad today?”
“No, but we talked on Tuesday.”
“Good.”
“Did he change his mind about living in the house?”
“No, he said that you and I will need a place to live in when we come home to visit. He wants us to keep it.”
“Okay, but it’s going to be such a nice house sitting there empty.”
“I’m not going to force him to live there. He probably has some mixed feelings about it. Maybe some guilt. Why should he get to live in the place that my grandmother poured her life savings into?”
“Okay, baby steps.” I grip his hand tighter, not wanting to ruin the rest of our walk with talk of his father. I know that’s a work in progress, but it’s headed in the right direction.
“But I’m letting him stay at the villa in Turks and Caicos for the holiday.”
“Really?”
“Unless you disagree.”
“Absolutely not, I think it’s great if everyone in the family gets a week a year.”
After signing his contract, Phillip introduced him to a real estate agent who is helping him (I mean us) diversify our real estate portfolio and the first thing we bought was a villa on the island.
Eventually we reach a small bistro and Brick says that he’s hungry, so we sit down and treat ourselves to a meal. We take a seat in a cozy corner booth and peruse the menu, my eyes glinting with anticipation. Eventually, after much deliberation, we settle on a few dishes.
The food is exquisite, and the atmosphere was relaxed and intimate. As we eat, we talk more about Brick’s upcoming season and then the manager comes over to greet us. This is quite common when Brick and I eat out in the city. Many New Yorkers recognize him from The Nighthawks or some of his televised endorsement deals.
“Welcome to The Cabbage, Mr. Jennings. I hope you and your guest enjoyed your meal.”
“We did, thank you. Everything tasted amazing.”
“Perfection,” I agree. “We’ll definitely be back.”
The manager and Brick exchange an odd look, then Brick says, “You will be back because The Cabbage is yours, baby.”
“Wait, what?”
