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Michelle
“You look beautiful, Mama.” Diego’s brown eyes were wide and sparkling as he watched me enter the living room from the hallway.
“Thank you, baby.” I moved to the cream, flower print couch he sat on and bent down to give him a kiss. “And thank you, Ma, for telling him to say that.” I glanced over my shoulder at my mother who was sitting at the dining table sipping a cup of tea.
Her eyelids fluttered and she placed her teacup on the saucer, waving her hands at me. “I did no such thing. My grandbaby is just sweet like that,” she insisted. “But we have been working on him being a gentleman, haven’t we, Diego?”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “Boys are supposed to tell girls how pretty they look all the time,” he reiterated.
“Mama, don’t go around telling him that. You’ll have my little boy being a flirt before he reaches the third grade.”
“He’s gotta learn from somebody. His raggedy ass daddy ain’t around to teach him.
“Ma!” I yelled.
“What?” The wide, honey-colored eyes I’d inherited from her looked at me innocently.
I moved closer to her, not wanting Diego to overhear anymore. “Can you please limit your insults of his father until Diego is out of earshot? Actually, how about you just quit talking about his father period.” Lord knew I wanted to forget all about him. Thinking of Diego’s father just caused an anxiousness I hated to move through me, and that reminded me of the conversation I’d had over the phone not even an hour ago
What are you afraid of?
You!I wanted to say, but it was so much more than that, and I just couldn’t explain it all.
“Leave your hair alone. It looks fine,” my mother argued, obviously not noticing my thoughts had strayed.
I took her advice and simply patted the halo braid I’d put my hair in, leaving it alone for now.
“Do you think I look okay?” I held out my arms and did a little spin for my mother’s assessment. I wore a burgundy shift dress with short, cuffed sleeves, which was cinched in the middle by a gold belt. The dress stopped right at my knees, but what I liked about it is that this dress had pockets. Since I’d be working, I never knew what I had to carry on me, and pockets came in handy.
“You look great, just like my grandson said.”
I nodded. “Alright, it’s time I should go.” I rifled through my black leather clutch to make sure I’d placed my cell phone, gum, work information, and anything else I needed into my bag. Satisfied, I went over and gave Diego?who was transfixed on the TV?another kiss.
“Ma, don’t forget. Only let Diego watch another hour of TV, then he needs to do his reading or drawing or something else, okay?”
“Girl, get on.” She waved me out the door. “I raised you, didn’t I?”
Just barely,I countered in my head, but left it unsaid.
“We’re gonna finish thisDoc McStuffinsshow and then Diego is going to read to me and we have a new puzzle to get started on. We’ll be fine. You have fun at work.”
I huffed. “It’s work, it won’t be too much fun.” I was helping coordinate the annual gala held by Townsend Industries. The event was always held at Townsend Manor, the huge estate where Robert and Deborah Townsend lived.
“You’ll have fun. G’nite, baby. Diego, say goodnight to your mama.”
“’Nite, Mama!” he called out, eyes glued to the television screen.
“Ma, don’t forget. One h–” She practically pushed me out the door, shutting it in my face before I could fully remind her about my one hour TV rule. I rolled my eyes and patted my hair again before heading down the hallway to take the stairs. I always tried to park closest to the exit, which is why I opted to take the stairs to and from my fourth floor apartment. I was making an effort to get in as many steps per days as possible, even though I wasn’t wearing my Fitbit.
Thirty-five minutes later, I was pulling up to the gated entrance of Townsend Manor. I needed to show a state-issued I.D., work badge, and employee pass before I was finally allowed through the gate. I was told security would be tight at this event and to bring all three with me upon arrival, or I wouldn’t be allowed in. Thankfully, I’d remembered. As soon as I parked my car, my phone started ringing. It was Nancy, my boss and owner ofSave The Date Event Planners.
“I’m just getting out of my car now. Where are you?” I questioned, looking around.
“At the front entrance. We need someone to handle parking until Jason gets here.”
I glanced toward the front door and saw a frantic looking Nancy with her short, blonde locks swinging a few inches above her shoulder as her gaze bounced from left to right. Nancy always had this sort of nervous energy when we did big events. She was a perfectionist and paid attention to even the most minute details. It is what made her and this company so successful, but it also could turn her into a micromanager. Thankfully, I was just as detail-oriented as she was, and the both of us got on great.
