“In my world, it is not merely solution. It is the foundation of family.” I straightened my bow tie, though it needed no adjustment. “These are my children. I will be involved in every aspect of their lives, with or without your cooperation. I prefer your cooperation.”
“Is that a threat, Aristides?”
“It is a promise. One I intend to keep.” I reached for the door handle, my hand trembling—actually trembling—with the effort of walking away from her. From them. “We will continue this discussion when you’re prepared to be reasonable.”
“Reasonable?” She laughed. “You mean when I’m prepared to do exactly as you say?”
“This is not about control, Dede. It is about—” I stopped, unable to articulate the fear gripping my chest.
How could I explain that without the structure of marriage, I felt powerless? That the thought of losing these children—losing her—was already consuming me from within?
Instead, I straightened my shoulders. “We will speak when we are both rested and prepared to discuss the terms, yes?”
I left before I could say something I’d regret. With each step, the weight of history, tradition, and expectation pressed against my shoulders.
Dede might believe our children could thrive without the structure I knew was essential, but she would learn that some battles cannot be won through individualism.
13
Driving home beneath the gray, heavy January sky, I noted the bare trees lining the road. My seat was pushed so far back that last week Mama Nettie joked I looked like I was piloting a ship from the back deck.
I’d laughed then. I wasn’t laughing now.
The meeting with Black Ember Distilling Co. kept replaying in my head. It had started promisingly enough with Maxwell Ware, the owner’s son-in-law, listening attentively while I outlined my marketing plan.
Hell, he’d called my marketing approach “innovative” and “exactly what we need to reach younger demographics.” Then he’d invited my husband and me to spend a weekend at their Kentucky farm distillery to “get a better feel for the brand.”
“I’m not married,” I’d said, like it was no big deal.
“Oh.” He’d glanced at my very obvious pregnant belly, then quickly away, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I’ll be straight with you because I think your work is exceptional. My father-in-law, Douglas, is... traditional. Very traditional. Hebuilt this company on what he calls ‘family values,’ and he has strong opinions about the people we partner with.”
“You mean unmarried pregnant women?” I’d kept my voice level.
Maxwell had the decency to look embarrassed. “He told me last week that he won’t do business with anyone who doesn’t represent ‘traditional American family values.’ His words, not mine.” He lowered his voice. “I’ve been fighting him on this for years. I’ve lost three potential partnerships because of his prejudices, and honestly, I’m running out of ways to work around him.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying I want to work with you. Your approach is exactly what we need. But Douglas wants to meet you at the distillery, and when he sees...” He’d trailed off, then met my eyes directly. “The visit is scheduled for next weekend. If something... changes... let me know by Wednesday. Otherwise...” He stood, extending his hand with genuine regret in his eyes. “I’m really sorry about this, Ms. White.”
“Can you believe this backwards bullshit? In this day and age?” My voice rose with indignation as I recounted the story to Kandi through my car’s Bluetooth. “Maxwell’s trying to help, at least. But his father-in-law sounds like he stepped out of a time machine.”
“Fuck Douglas Embers,” Kandi declared. “Seriously. Any client who judges you based on your marital status doesn’t deserve your genius. Let them hire some mediocre married white dude and watch their brand tank.”
She had a point. But… “It’s a four-point-three-million- dollar contract, Kandi.”
Silence on the other end. Then, “...Okay, so maybe we don’t fuck ’em just yet. Maybe we strategically un-fuck them by taking their money and proving them wrong.”
“That’s what I thought.”
This rejection stung more than I wanted to admit. Not just because of the money, though God knows I could use it with two babies coming.
It was the principle. I’d built TMW Marketing from nothing, and earned every client through sheer competence. The idea that my personal life could derail everything I’d worked for made me want to scream.
But more than that, it made me question everything. Was I being naïve in thinking I could do this alone? Was my independence actually hurting my business?
I sighed as I stopped at a red light, absently rubbing my belly where one of the twins was kickboxing against my ribs.
“Though I gotta say,” Kandi continued, “this is what you get for following Tia to Greece and having a fling. Our kids are grown, Dee. And here you are, starting over with not one, but two babies.”
