“You are a piece of work.”
“It takes one to know one.”
She sat still for a moment, chewing her treat slowly, amusement lighting her features.
He didn’t know what part of those words caused that look, but he prayed that he could say the right combination again to get the same expression in the future. She looked pleased and flattered. More than just on the surface, her whole being radiated with joy.
Man,Ilove her.
The thought stopped his breath, and apparently his ability to chew, as a piece of the fruit snack got lodged in his trachea.
“Solomon!”
Before he could think of anything else, her small hands were against his back, thumping him with considerable strength. His coughs were so loud, the receptionist, Jermaine, and two patients in the waiting room ran over.
“Do you need help, Solomon?” Jermaine asked.
Howembarrassing.
“Just”—cough—“give”—hack—“me”—wheeze—“a moment.”
Jermaine ignored him and pulled him to his feet. But thankfully, instead of gripping his abdomen from behind, he took over for Kenya and whacked him across the back. Those experienced hands that had set broken bones in the military before turning to therapy were enough to dislodge the remnants of his snack from his throat.
“Whew!” Solomon took the paper cup of water the receptionist offered. After drinking it down, he crumpled the cup and looked with chagrin at the small crowd around him.
“Thank you.” He waved off the concern, then covered his mouth as a few more coughs racked his chest. He cleared his throat. “I’m fine. Carry on.”
“Good to hear.” Jermaine hit him one more time on the back for good measure. “Watch yourself.” He looked pointedly, and it was then Solomon realized someone hadn’t left his side. Someone hadn’t let go of his arm.
Kenya looked up at him, her initial trepidation most likely over that afternoon’s meeting with his mother replaced by concern for him.
“Are you okay, Solomon?” She led him back to his chair. Helped him sit down, when he was the one who should be helping her.
He pressed a fist to his mouth. Cleared his throat again. “I should be asking you. Are you nervous about meeting my mother?”
“Kind of, but I’m looking forward to it.” She bit her lip. “Any tips?”
He shook his head, throat still raw. “Just be yourself.”
She sighed. “That’s what I was afraid you would say.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
Before he could respond again, her phone alarm went off. “Time to go.” Her words were low but determined.
He helped her gather her tote bag.
But her question was more accurate than she knew. His thoughts had surprised him and literally choked the life out of him.
He loved her? How could he even consider that, just weeks after they reconnected? But surely that’s why he’d said her name that day to his parents.
Calling her his girlfriend.
She had never been far from his thoughts, even when he hadn’t had the guts to pick up the phone to call her back. Because he’d known even then that Kenya Stewart had the ability to change his life completely. She had the potential to disrupt plans and hearts. And although all those things scared him, he desperately didn’t want his mother to scare her off.
KENYA KNEWwho Solomon’s mother was as soon as she stepped into Plantain and Pies. The venue was quiet this time of the day, operating as more of a coffee shop in the afternoons before the fullness of set lists and their more robust dinner menu in the evenings.
“Hi, I am Kenya. You must be Mrs. Anruchi.”
The woman sat with her back ramrod straight. “Yes, I am. Favour Anruchi.” Kenya noticed nails manicured to perfection as Favour laid down a menu next to a tan clutch and reached out to shake Kenya’s hand.
