She smiled then. “Of course I’d give my husband children.”
“Being an only child, I’ve been waiting my whole life to have kids. I felt so alone as a kid, especially with parents that were so focused on their careers. So, I gotta have more than one. You know how that is, since you’re an only child too.”
“Right. I wished that I could have had Nari sooner, so that she could have been closer to KJ’s age. But he is a good big brother, regardless.”
“I would have loved to have younger siblings.”
“At least you have your college buddies, though. You said they are like brothers, right?”
“They are.”
“And your parents sound like they kept you occupied.”
During many of our conversations, I’d told Rhythm about all of the vacations my parents took me on and all of the after-school programs and activities they insisted that I be a part of. Both of my parents were senior associates at a private equity firm. They insisted that their only child not become a statistic. They refused to let me end up in the streets, so they kept my mind busy and occupied.
“Yeah, they were really active parents,” I agreed.
“Mine were as much as they could be. They worked a lot to keep the bills paid. They were always doing overtime or working more than one job.”
Then I looked at her, saying, “I’m sorry about your father.”
She had briefly mentioned her father’s death during one of our many conversations at night that went for hours after her kids went to bed. She had breezed over it so quick that I knew she wasn’t handling it well or at all.
Her body stiffened briefly. “Thank you.”
“I can’t imagine.”
“It’s rough. Some days it still feels unbearable.”
I squeezed her thigh gently to comfort her.
“I throw myself into my work and my kids. It’s the only way I know how to survive it.”
“I guessed that. I respect it, though.”
I drove with one hand on the wheel and the other still on her thigh. I kept stealing looks at her, unable to stop myself. Everytime our eyes met, it felt like something real and intimate passed between us.
“You’re staring,” she teased.
I looked at her, realizing that I could very well be looking at my future. “Can’t help it.”
RHYTHM BROOKS
Before Sincere even took me on the “date” part of the night, we had a stop to make for Bellamy Urban Development’s sponsorship obligations.
We pulled up to a studio on the north side where a local news crew was set up for a quick segment, one of those community spotlight pieces that ran during the evening broadcast.
When Sincere told me about the interview, I felt like I was going to faint. I was damn near hyperventilating, asking a hundred questions at once, trying to talk myself out of it while my heart raced. Sincere coached me on what to say, broke it down into simple points, and kept assuring me I was going to be fine. And the crazy part was the second he told me I would do a great job, I wanted to do it even more, just to earn that proud look on his face again. Because he was pushing me toward my dreams, when Kodi only distracted me from them.
The moment we walked inside, my nerves climbed up my throat. The bright lights, cameras, and producer wearing a headset were so intimidating.
The producer pointed at tape marks on the floor and walked us into position. A makeup artist dabbed my face, making me feel like somebody important.
As we waited for the interview to start, Sincere leaned close to my ear. “Breathe,” he coached. “You already know what you’re talking about. Just be you. Tell your truth.”
I nodded, trying not to look like I might pass out.
Soon, the anchor joined us on set, greeting us, and my nerves started to spiral again. A producer stepped in first and explained where we would stand, when we would speak, and how long our answers needed to be. She reminded us to keep our eyes on the anchor, not the camera. A sound guy clipped a mic to my top and tucked the wire so it wouldn’t show, and a makeup artist came back one last time to blot my face. Off to the side, a crew member counted down while the camera operator adjusted focus and the red light flicked on. When the studio got quiet, the anchor smiled at us like she had known us forever and greeted us again on air.
