We were both quiet as we tried to decide what we would eat for dinner.
Quentin broke the silence. “This Saturday, don’t forget. We’re having lunch at my dad’s house.”
“I won’t forget. I’m too nervous to forget.”
He scrunched up his face. “Nervous? For what? My pops is cool as hell. He won’t give you no static. He’s just glad that I’m opening myself up again.”
I looked at him over the menu. “I’m glad you’re opening yourself up again too. And speaking of that, have you decided what you want to do for Teagan’s birthday?”
Teagan’s birthday was two weeks away. When he shared that it was coming up with me, I asked how he usually commemorated it. When he told me that he usually played old love songs, stared at her picture, and drank himself into a stupor, I asked if he needed me to leave the house that day. Then he told me that it was probably time for him to reframe the dayand asked if I could help him come up with some ideas. After discussing things that she liked, I gave him some suggestions but left it up to him to decide the actual agenda.
“Yeah. I think her favorite restaurant, Bougie Bistro . . . for lunch, and then the Londynville Black History Museum. She loved that place.”
“I love that place too. Sounds like a plan.”
He stared at me silently for a moment before speaking. “Say, I really appreciate you being open to doing this with me. Let me know if it gets too awkward.”
“It’s not awkward, Q. You loving her doesn’t make me feel any kind of way. I think it’s . . . I don’t know . . . cool that losing her didn’t make you pack up your feelings for her and pretend like she never existed. I think it’s cool that you keep Teagan around but not in an overwhelming or unhealthy way. You acknowledge her without making her into some kind of supernatural being that nobody else could ever live up to.”
“Nah, she wouldn’t want that.” He chuckled lightly. “She would hate that.”
The waitress arrived at the table. She took our orders and our menus. I turned to Quentin.
“So, do you think we can ride your bike to your dad’s house for lunch?”
“My bike?” He looked confused. “You wanna ride my bike?”
I cocked my head to the side. “Q, I grew up on the back of a bike. First my daddy’s and then Kobey’s. I’ve been trying to figure out why we never go anywhere on yours. Everywhere we go, you drive your truck.”
His eyes widened. “Oh shit, that never even dawned on me. Teagan couldn’t ride on my bike, because the dust and the debris set her asthma off.”
“I don’t have asthma,” I reminded him gently.
“You don’t.” He gave me a dimpled smile.
“Is that a yes? We can ride your bike?”
He stared into my eyes. “If you wanna ride on the back of my bike, we ain’t gotta wait ’til Saturday, E. I’ll take you on a ride as soon as we get home.”
The way that Quentin looked at me gave me butterflies.
“What?” he asked. “What’s that look on your face?”
“The look you put there because of the way you look at me.”
“How do I look at you, E?” His dimples were prominently displayed as he grinned at me.
“Like I’m something good to look at.”
“You are something good to look at. You’re my favorite fucking thing to look at. I’m tryna figure out how I can sign up to look at you years to come.”
I giggled. Quentin Bishop had me gone. “I really like you.”
He didn’t say anything for a long minute. The silence went on to the point that I thought I should probably take it back. Maybe I spoke too soon. “I like you more, E.” He held out his hand, beckoning to me. “Com’ere.”
I stood from my seat and walked around the table to his. His hands went to my waist as he set me on his lap. “You’re my proof that God didn’t forget about me,” he said before kissing my lips. “You’re my proof that good things are still coming my way. I never wanna feel the pain I felt when I lost Tea. But I put it on my mama that I won’t let anxiety stop me from having every experience I can have with you.
“I want your laughter, your softness, and your sweetness. I want your heart and your body. I want you and everything that comes with you. And I want you to feel safe with me. I want you to know that I got you. Everything I have? You can have it, baby. My heart, my time, my protection, my material goods . . . whatever you want from me, it’s yours.” He kissed me again. Deeply. Thoroughly. “I know this is probably a deep ass conversation to have in the middle of a restaurant, but lifetaught me that you gotta say the shit you want to say. You gotta let people know where they stand with you, so if the worst happens . . . you’re not left wondering if they knew. If they knew how you really felt.”
