“I am. What if they don’t like me?”
He frowned. “What’s not to like? Come on.”
He offered his hand, and I finally got out. We went straight to the backyard and entered through the side gate, and although we were only the second to arrive, it looked like the festivities had started.
“Umm, I think they started without us,” Nyeem said.
We watched for a moment as my parents, and who I assumed to be Kilo’s parents, danced under the tent my parents set up when they had more guests than our immediate family. Upbeat old school music from the eighties played through the speakers, and you would’ve thought they were old friends with the way they carried on.
Kilo and Knox were in the gazebo, but I couldn’t tell what they were doing until Knox lifted his hand and slammed it back on the table. Dominoes was one of my father’s favorite games, so I wasn’t surprised that he had it ready for today.
“It looks like we’re late for the party,” I shouted over the music as I went deeper into the yard.
Everyone present looked toward Nyeem and me, and my mother left my father and took Mrs. St. Patrick’s hand, pulling her in our direction. I quickly took in the woman who gave birth to the man I was quickly falling in love with, and she was beautiful.
Her dark brown skin was virtually wrinkle-free, her eyes were bright and welcoming and matched her big, beautiful smile. She wore her hair in a low, mostly gray, tapered afro, and the style fit the frame of her face perfectly. As gorgeous as she was, Kilo didn’t look anything like her.
“Mareen, this is my daughter, Nyomi, and my grandson, Nyeem. This is Kilo’s mom,” she introduced with a big smile.
Before I could greet her properly, she pulled me into an embrace, and we rocked from side to side. I felt welcome in her arms, and my nervousness disappeared. She released me but held onto my shoulders as she looked me over.
“You are beautiful. I’m so happy to meet you.” She beamed.
“Thank you. The feeling is mutual. Kilo didn’t tell me you looked young enough to be his sister.”
She hugged me again before greeting Nyeem. Their exchange was just as sweet, and Nyeem easily won her over with his dimples and gentle demeanor.
“I see why Kilo took to you two so quickly. He’d better not do anything stupid to mess this up. Kyle, come on over here and meet our future daughter-in-law and grandson,” she yelled across the yard.
Mr. St. Patrick approached us, and I couldn’t believe how much Kilo and Knox favored their father, even down to how they walked. Mr. St. Patrick may have been a few inches shorter than his sons, but they were definitely his clones.
“Baby, this is Nyomi, and her son, Nyeem. Aren’t they perfect?” Mrs. St. Patrick cooed.
“Hello, Nyomi and Nyeem. It’s great to meet you both. Please don’t mind my wife. You very well may be perfect, but she’s been waiting for our boys to settle down for a long time, so she’s a tad excited.”
“We understand, Mr. St. Patrick. It’s nice to meet you,” I said.
“It’s nice to meet you, sir,” Nyeem greeted.
Finally, my man pulled himself away from the game of dominoes to greet me. I hadn’t seen him since he left my house this morning, and it felt like it had been days. He looked like he’d gotten his hair cut and beard trimmed, and I couldn’t take my eyes off him.
“Oh, you two got it bad,” Mrs. St. Patrick teased.
Kilo pulled me into his arms and kissed me like my son, my mother, and his parents weren’t right there.
“This is my cue to leave,” I heard Nyeem say.
“See, this is why you got pregnant so damn quick,” my mother said, causing me to pull away from Kilo.
“Pregnant? Oh my God! You’re pregnant?” Mrs. St. Patrick screamed.
I loved my parents, but a week and a half with them in my house was overwhelming. For their next visit, I’d gladly pay for them to have their own space. Overall, the visit went well, but I was happy to drop them off at the airport.
Once Mrs. Kurrie accidentally announced Nyomi’s pregnancy, my mother was on cloud nine. For the rest of the trip, I could do no wrong, and all she could talk about was her future grandchild. I couldn’t imagine what her reaction would be if we were actually having more than one.
Nyomi’s parents were great hosts for Sunday dinner and even invited my parents out to dinner before they left. Our parents getting along was just another sign that we were meant for each other.
“You’re awfully quiet. Are you sad your parents are gone?” Nyomi asked.
