“Riley and my mom helped me pick it out,” Kam offers.
“Oh?” She smiles, but there’s a hint of sadness in her eyes. Why? “You three make a good team.”
“We have our moments.” Kam’s mom places her hand affectionately on my father’s arm.
“Laney is very lucky to have you.” Her expression displays happiness, but her eyes? There’s an emotion she’s hiding behind her eyes. I’m sure no one else notices but me. My mom has been physically absent from my life since before I started high school. She’s a career woman, and her goals and aspirations were just as large and challenging as my father’s. They both have monumental drive. That seems to be a theme with the people I love. Bigger than life. But in saying that, she’s still my mom. I know her. I can read her the same way she can read me.
She’s always been there for me. No matter the time or what side of the world she was on, she always made me a priority. There were countless three a.m. phone calls, video chats over a gallon of ice cream, and vacations to the most beautiful parts of the world. Our relationship is unconventional, but so are the relationships I have with my father and my fiancé. Just because they aren’t cookie cutter doesn’t mean they are any less important. And I manage each of those just fine. I’m pretty independent, and my career is just as important to me as my mom’s is to her. Kam’s is to him. And my father’s is to him. I may not live in the spotlight, or travel all over creation, but I love what I do. Being an architect is my dream, and I’m living it the same way everyone else around me is.
The waiter appears to take my mother’s drink order. Once she’s settled, the conversation niceties begin.
We spend the morning catching up over decadent French toast, pancakes stacked a mile high, and fruit so fresh it tastes like it was just picked from the vine. Kam eats enough for three people. He’s changed so much over the last two years. He’s always been tall and athletic, but this new level of training has transformed him dramatically. His arms and chest are almost double the size, and his waist is leaner, more tapered than it was before. He is all male, all athlete, all super-star.
And all mine.
I admire the diamond sparkling like fire on my finger. It’s beautiful yes, and I love it, but I love the person who gave it to me more.
“Have you two thought about a date yet?” My mother’s question cuts through my daydreaming.
“Um, no.” I glance at Kam. “We have one big event to get through first before we start planning another one.” I can’t even imagine what the next few weeks are going to be like. Kam prepping for the championship game was intense enough. Preparing for the Super Bowl? I don’t even want to think about it until tomorrow. I have a feeling I’m going to be a football widow until the clock times out.
“Well, not to overstep or be that pushy mother”—she rolls her eyes and does this little gesture with her head—“but I took the liberty of calling a friend of mine. She’s one of the most sought-after wedding planners in New York.” She adds quickly. “Anyway, she told me she has an opening June 6th. So, I booked her.”
“June 6th of what year?” my father asks as I stare at my mom.
“This year. I know it’s soon—”
“It’s less than six months from now,” I point out.
“I know. And you don’t have to commit to anything. But she sent me this picture of the Conservatory Gardens in Central Park.” She pulls out her phone and brings up a picture. “It just looks stunning.” She shows the aerial view of the extravagant gardens. They’re bursting with rows of white and purple flowery trees, French-style gardens, and the greenest grass you have ever laid eyes on.
“Wow!” Kam takes her phone and inspects the image further. “This would be an awesome place for the wedding.”
“And June would be the perfect time,” my mom hints.
“I agree, June is perfect. But . . . this June?” I weigh the option. “There’s so much planning. I have a huge proposal coming up at work. And Kam? The Super Bowl?”
“Sweetie.” My mother takes my hand. “I do not want you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable. I just thought I would help lessen the load reaching out to a pro who is accustomed to working with celebrities.” She nods at Kam. “She would do most of the grunt work. You just have to pick out the details.”
“That does sound less stressful,” Kam considers, handing my mother back her phone.
I’m at a loss for words for a moment. “This June wouldn’t be too soon for you?” I ask Kam in all seriousness.
His baby blues burn with affection in the sunlight. “Lemon, I would go to city hall tomorrow if that’s what you wanted. I don’t care when it happens, or where it happens, just as long as it happens.”
The table goes quiet for the second time this morning. My cheeks are going to blister from embarrassment if I’m kept under all this scrutiny.
“Okay. June 6th, it is,” I cave, my heart pounding a mile a minute.
“Excuse me.” An unfamiliar voice pulls my attention away from Kam. A young boy, no more than ten, is standing behind us, bouncing back and forth nervously with a pen and paper in his hand. “I’m sorry to bother you.” His words are shaky, not nervous but upset.
“It’s okay, bud.” Kam turns and smiles. “Would you like an autograph?”
“Yes, please.” The boy’s brown eyes water. “My dad was a huge fan. We watched your first game at Alabama and haven’t missed one since.”
“Well, that’s awesome.” Kam takes the pen and paper. “What’s your name?”
“Tommy. Tommy Miller.”
