Tumy informed me that she and Mariah agreed that she should meet my parents before she and her husband came.
My father was the one who opened the door. “What’s up, Son?”
“What’s good, Pops?” I put my hand on Tumy’s back and led her inside.
The heat and whatever my mom cooked greeted us as soon as we entered. My stomach growled because I hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and I knew my mom cooked a feast. It had been a long time since I brought a woman home, and she was excited about it.
“Pops, this is Tumy. Baby, this is my dad, Marcus.”
“Hi, Mr. Marcus.”
“Hi, Tumy. Welcome.” My father shook her hand.
I helped her out of her coat, then the three of us walked to the living room. My mom came out a minute later.
“You are so pretty.” She gushed as she walked toward Tumy.
Tumy stood from her seat to greet my mother, and being who she was, my mom pulled her into her arms.
“Thank you, Mrs. Nelson.”
“Call me Janet. It is nice to meet you. I don’t know the last time my son brought anyone home, especially not this pretty.”
Tumy glanced my way and giggled.
“Was that necessary?” I asked my mom as I kissed her cheek.
“Very. The food should be done in a minute.”
“Do you need help?” Tumy asked, and I knew my mom loved that shit.
My ex never offered to help my mother with anything, and my mom reminded me every time she was around. Tumy was alright in her book.
“See, I like her,” my mom said as she looked at me. My father chuckled from his spot in his favorite chair. My mom turned back toward Tumy. “No, but you can come keep me company.” She grabbed Tumy’s hand and led her into the kitchen.
I sat down on the couch across from my dad. When I looked up at him, he had a big smile on his face.
“You look happy, Son.”
I peeked toward the kitchen, then back at my dad. “I am. In fact, . . .” I reached into my pocket and pulled out the box I’d been holding on to since we returned from the mountains. “I want to ask her to marry me.”
“This soon?”
“Yes. I know you and Mom never married, and it works for y’all, but Tumy wants to be married. I know she’s the one for me.”
My father leaned forward and looked at the box. I opened it so he could see the ring.
He let out a low whistle. “I know you, and I know you wouldn’t do it if you didn’t feel like it’s the right thing. I’m proud of you. I know your mother is going to lose her shit.” He chuckled.
“I know. I’m going to wait until after dinner. I want her best friend to be here.”
I tucked the box in my pocket, just as the doorbell rang. I got up to answer because I figured it was Tumy’s friend.
“What are you doing here?” Instead of Mariah, it was Marcel.
“You didn’t think I would miss a meet-the-family dinner, did you?” Marcel smirked as he stepped into the house.
Before I could close the door, a car pulled near the curb, and I figured it was Mariah.
