As soon as they entered the elegant ballroom, Jamal heard a sharp gasp. He turned and, a second later, was enveloped in a set of warm, familiar arms.
“Oh, Jamal,” his mother cried. She grabbed his face and kissed both of his cheeks.
“Don’t cry. You’ll ruin your makeup,” he teased. It was either make jokes or bawl along with her. God, how he’d missed this woman. “It’s great to see you, Mom.”
She cradled his cheek in her palm. “Oh, you too, darling. I’ve missed you so much. It isn’t the same with you being away.”
Jamal took her hand and kissed the back of her fingers. He turned to Phylicia, who’d stood a few feet back. The emotion on her face nearly did Jamal in. He realized that she could no longer have moments like this with her mother.
In that instant, the anxiety over returning to Arizona withered and died. He was blessed with a healthy, vibrant mother who meant the world to him, and he’d purposely stayed away because of his father? How selfish—how foolish—could he be? He was never staying away this long again.
He turned to Phylicia. “Mother, this is my date, Phylicia Phillips. Phylicia, my mother, Katherine Johnson.”
“It’s so nice to meet you,” Phylicia said, taking her hand. “And this place is absolutely beautiful.”
“So are you,” his mother returned, her eyes widening with unconcealed curiosity. “How did you two meet?”
“You remember Corey Anderson, my old roommate at Arizona State?” Jamal asked. “He and Phylicia went to high school together. She’s a restoration specialist in Louisiana. She’s helping me to restore the home that I’m turning into a bed-and-breakfast.”
“Oh, what fascinating work. You and Jamal must have so much in common. I’m guessing you’ve been spending a lot of time together?” Her voice was so hopeful that Jamal had to bite back a laugh.
“Um…yes, we have,” Phylicia said, her eyes darting his way, sparkling with amusement. “Your son has very unique ideas when it comes to design.”
“He’s a brilliant architect, and a great provider. He can play the saxophone, too. And I just know he’s going to be a wonderful father someday. He just needs to find the right woman.”
Oh, great. Way to be subtle, Mom.He wouldn’t be surprised if she pulled out a résumé listing his husbandly qualities.
Glancing around the room, Jamal spotted his father heading toward them. His jaw stiffened.
“I’m going to find Lauryn and say hello before the ceremony begins,” he said. “Phylicia, I’ll only be a few minutes.”
Covering his forearm with her gloved hand, his mother looked at him with mournful eyes. “Jamal, talk to him,” she said.
The pleading in her voice clawed at his soul, but as he took in the arrogant, haughty look on his father’s face, he knew that any confrontation between them right now would make his sister’s wedding a spectacle instead of the magical day she deserved. He kissed his mother’s cheek and turned, heading for the opposite side of the vast ballroom.
By the time he found the suite where his sister and her bridesmaids were getting dressed, Jamal had only a few moments to talk to her. After being away for over a year, it wasn’t nearly long enough.
By the time he returned to Phylicia, the ceremony was beginning.
As the night wore on, it became evident that he and his father were on the same page when it came to getting through the evening. They put equal amounts of effort into avoiding each other. Even during the family photos, when they stood mere feet from one another, not a single word was spoken between them.
That was just fine with Jamal—until he noticed the sadness in his mother’s eyes. The sorrow evident on her face hit him square in the chest.
“Are you okay?” Phylicia asked as he rejoined her at their table.
Jamal reached for her hand and brought it to his lips. “I’m good,” he said. “Especially with you here with me.”
The lead singer of the live band that had covered songs from the nineties announced that it was time for the traditional bride-and-groom dance, but instead of going to the center of the ballroom, his sister headed for the stage and gestured for the microphone.
“Hello again, everyone,” Lauryn started, that smile she’d been wearing all night as bright as ever. “I hope you all are enjoying yourselves and adding up a huge tab at the bar, since my dad is paying for it all.” Laughter flittered around the room. “Michael and I had picked out a song for this dance, but at the time I didn’t know if my big brother, Jamal, would be here.” She looked directly at him, her brown eyes, so much like his, softening. “Since he is, I would be so honored if our wedding song came from his saxophone. Jamal, will you play for us?”
Without hesitation, Jamal set his drink on the table and made his way to the stage.
“You know that I usually don’t play another person’s sax,” he told his sister. “But for you, I’ll make an exception.”
Lauryn beamed. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, big brother. You shouldn’t even have to ask which song,” she said.
Jamal glanced over at the sheet music on the stand and let out a sharp crack of laughter. “I should have guessed,” he said.
