Dinner dragged on.
Dessert was peach cobbler—Mama’s specialty.
Alexis complimented it.
Winston talked about a deal he was working on.
Mama dropped another hint about grandchildren.
“I’m not getting any younger,” she said, laughing softly. “And I’d love to see you settled, Amai. With a good woman. Someone who understands family.”
This time.
She didn’t say it.
But I heard it anyway.
I looked at Alexis.
She was lovely.
Kind.
Intelligent.
Everything a man was supposed to want.
And all I could think about was a woman covered in strawberry Fanta, standing at a bus stop with her pride in pieces, looking at me like I was the only person who could put her back together.
I pushed my plate away.
“I should go,” I said.
Mama frowned. “Already?”
“I have an early meeting tomorrow.”
“On a Sunday?”
“Business doesn’t stop for weekends.”
Winston grunted. “That’s the truth.”
I stood.
Alexis stood too. “It was really nice meeting you, Amai.”
“You too.”
“Maybe I’ll see you at the gallery?”
“Maybe.”
Mama walked me to the door.
“She’s lovely, isn’t she?” she said quietly.
“She is.”
