Lover's Island, page 22
“I never really thought about it. You’re happy with Randall,” he finally answered.
“Of course I am. We’ve had nearly twenty years of happiness, but I never wanted to remarry. Louis was the love of my life. Losing him shattered me. However, I had a responsibility to this family. Just like you do,” she explained. “Now, Nova may not be your first pick, but she’s the logical one. She gave you a beautiful princess. Don’t you want more?” Marguerite rose to her feet and placed a hand on Cree’s shoulder. “I won’t talk your head off. I love you.” She kissed his forehead.
Smiling lightly, Cree squeezed her hand. “I love you too.”
Marguerite turned and headed back the way they had come.
His grandmother left him with a lot to ponder. However valid her points were, Cree couldn’t think of a world where it made sense to live without Nyimah. Crossing paths with her again would solve his problems.
What if I don’t find her?
“Fuck,” he muttered. Now the blunt Scarlett had offered sounded like a lovely idea.
* * *
Seven weeks later, Nyimah went into premature labor. She gave birth naturally to a four-pound, four-ounce baby girl. Nyimah named her Ceraya Asani Devereaux. The two of them stayed in the hospital for two weeks while the doctors monitored the baby periodically. Because of her early delivery, Aida had to abruptly make her move to Atlanta. Her apartment had another month’s worth of renovation work that needed to be completed, so Nyimah booked an Airbnb minutes away from her home for Aida to stay in.
The first two weeks at home were an adjustment for Nyimah as she cared for and nursed Ceraya. Thankfully, her daughter only ate, pooped, and slept for the majority of her first month in the world. There were some nights Nyimah got little to no sleep because she would stare at Ceraya all night, still in disbelief that she belonged to her.
One afternoon Nyimah stood at her sink, washing and sterilizing baby bottles. She was able to get the baby down for a nap and was using this time to get tasks accomplished around the condo. No one had prepared her for how hectic life would be with the newborn, especially as a single mother. She spent most of her day running around like a chicken with its head cut off. She’d wake up, shower and brush her teeth, feed and change Ceraya, clean the house, wash clothes, then feed and change Ceraya again. Nyimah didn’t complain, however, because she loved her daughter so much.
Ceraya’s little cries erupted over the baby monitor, and Nyimah dried her hands and headed for the nursery. She glanced down into the bassinet and blushed when she looked into her daughter’s face. Her complexion was deep brown, like ground cinnamon. Black curls complemented the top of her head. It explained the heartburn Nyimah had suffered during pregnancy.
Nyimah kissed Ceraya’s feet before scooping her up and nestling the infant in her arms. “Hi, beautiful. Mommy loves you so much,” Nyimah cooed, tapping Ceraya’s button nose, making her smile. “You look so much like your father.” Nyimah rocked Ceraya after she took a seat in the rocking chair situated in a corner of the room.
Ceraya had inherited most of her features from Cree. Nyimah had never seen a baby picture of him, but she figured it’d be like holding a mirror up to her daughter. She wanted to make Cree a part of their daughter’s life, even though he wasn’t present. Nyimah told Ceraya stories about him every day.
“Hungry, Ma Ma?” she asked now, pulling up her shirt to breastfeed her daughter.
After Ceraya had been fed and burped, and her diaper changed, she drifted into a peaceful slumber. Nyimah placed her back in the bassinet and kissed her forehead before walking into the living room and sitting down on the couch. She clicked the TV on and shuffled through movie titles on Netflix. A notification dinged on her phone from her Ring security app, alerting her to a motion at her front door. She opened the app and saw a UPS worker leaving a big box outside her front door. It had to be the new changing table she’d ordered last week.
Nyimah hopped from the couch, crossed the living room, and opened her front door. When she tried to move the box, it didn’t budge. She didn’t want to exert too much force, fearing that she would hurt herself. “Fuck!” Nyimah shouted in frustration while kicking the box.
“Damn, what the box do to you?” Khiri snickered as he walked down the hall, carrying shopping bags. “You good?” He hadn’t seen much of Nyimah lately besides them passing each other in the hall.
Nyimah turned to Khiri and leaned forward on the box, blowing out a breath of frustration. It was times like this that she needed Cree and missed him the most. Raising a newborn alone was the hardest thing she’d ever done. Aida helped as much as she could, but she had two toddlers of her own and was just now getting settled in her new apartment. Nyimah accepted that she was in this alone.
“No, I’m not okay. I can’t move this stupid-ass box,” she said as her tears finally began to fall.
The box wasn’t the cause of her tears, Khiri’s intuition told him. His eyes fell on Nyimah as he observed her appearance. He guessed that she wore her hair in a bun, but most of her hair fell in the back and to the sides, having come free of the scrunchie on top of her head, so he didn’t know what to call her hairdo. The white T-shirt she wore was stained with baby throw-up, and wet circles had formed around her breasts. Exhaustion was written all over her face. He had heard about how some women fell into a depression after giving birth, and he wondered if Nyimah was experiencing that.
Can’t be easy raising a baby alone. “I can move the box for you,” he offered.
Wiping her tears, Nyimah shook her head. “No, you don’t have to do that. I’m going to call a company to come set it up anyway.” She rubbed her forehead and inhaled through her nose. Looking a mess in front of Khiri was embarrassing enough, but crying too? Nyimah wished she had left the box to deal with later.
“Not necessary. I’ll do that for you too. You shouldn’t have to hire strangers when you have a friend offering.”
“Aren’t you a stranger too?” Nyimah asked, chuckling.
“Nah, I think we passed that when your homegirl asked to borrow some sugar.”
Nyimah laughed out loud in response. “I guess you’re right.”
Khiri took a step closer to Nyimah. Despite her disheveled appearance, her beauty still radiated. “There’s that smile. Those tears were breaking a nigga down a little.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do all of that in front of you.” Nyimah looked from the box back to Khiri. “I’ll take you up on that offer if it still stands.”
“I got you. Let me go change and put these bags down, and then I’ll come by.”
Nodding, Nyimah stepped back into her home and peeked in on Ceraya, who was soundly sleeping. She walked into the bathroom and examined herself in the mirror. Her hair was all over the place. She looked down at the wetness around her nipples and gasped, realizing Khiri had probably noticed too. “I gotta get my shit together,” she said aloud to herself.
A knock came at the front door, and she went to open it. It was Khiri, and he had his long arms wrapped around the box. She stepped aside to allow him to enter.
“Where you want me to put it?” he asked, gripping the box in his hands.
Nyimah pointed to the living room, then crossed her arms over her chest. “The living room is fine. There’s enough room for you to lay everything out.”
Nyimah watched the muscles flex in Khiri’s arm as he carefully placed the box on the floor. “I’m not sure what type of tools are needed to put it together,” she told him.
Khiri cut through the box’s tape with his keys. “It’s cool. I brought my own.” He nodded to the tool bag that sat by the couch.
Leaning against the kitchen island, Nyimah quirked her eyebrows out of curiosity. “I don’t know too many men who own a professional tool set like that,” she commented. She faintly recalled her own father owning a similar set of tools when he was alive. “My father owned one like that when I was little. He never went too far without his either.”
Khiri listened to Nyimah while laying out all the wooden pieces to the changing table. When he was done, there had to be at least fifty pieces spread across the floor. “He sounds like a self-sufficient man.” He glanced up at Nyimah as she looked past him.
“He was,” she said softly. It’d been so long since she had heard her father’s voice that speaking about him brought tears to her eyes. So many of her loved ones had been snatched from her life. From her mother to her father. To Asun and now Cree. Allowing people in was something Nyimah feared now more than ever. “You work with your hands?”
“You can say that. More of a hobby. I build engines and cars in my spare time,” Khiri answered nonchalantly, licking his lips, as he pulled an Allen wrench set and a screwdriver from the tool bag.
“Wow. You say it like anybody out here can do that. I’m a cosmetologist, but there’s plenty people doing hair out here.”
“I’m sure there ain’t many out there that can replicate what you do,” he said, glancing at Nyimah, as he screwed two pieces of the table together.
Nyimah blushed and, feeling bashful, headed for the refrigerator. “Do you want anything to drink?” she asked as she crossed the living room. She sat two bottles of spring water on the counter, opened one for herself, and took a sip. “How about a bottle of spring water?” she called.
“I’ll grab a bottle if I need it. Thanks.” Khiri was focused on the boards he gripped in his hands.
She noticed how Khiri went into his own world while working. She could relate because hair had been that outlet for her. A peaceful escape. “I’m about to jump in the shower. You good here?”
Khiri simply nodded, and Nyimah smiled before disappearing into the bathroom.
The warm water dripped down Nyimah’s face as she stood in the shower and ran her fingers through her hair. She washed the conditioner out of her curls, reminding herself to make a trip to the beauty supply store soon. A wig hadn’t touched her scalp since she gave birth. There wasn’t much time in her day to maintain a frontal wig. I’ll have to give myself braids or something, Nyimah thought.
It felt odd being around another man besides Jabari and Cree. She appreciated Khiri’s help and the company he provided, however brief it might be. Talking with someone who knew nothing of her past offered a fresh slate. They had no reason to look upon her with pity. And Khiri was surprisingly easy to talk to. He probably wanted to ask Nyimah about her life, but he didn’t, and she was thankful.
Nyimah stepped out of the shower and slid her arms into her bathrobe. She sat on the bed and applied her Naturally Blended by Amoni body butter. She slipped into a pair of yoga pants and a black T-shirt. Since delivering, the number of yoga pants she had in her wardrobe had tripled. These days she preferred comfort over fashion. A true story for new mothers around the world. After taking a brush from the dresser, Nyimah sat on the bed and brushed her damp hair up into a ponytail. Just as she finished, two light knocks came upon her bedroom door.
“Nyimah,” Khiri called from the other side of the door. “I think the baby is crying.”
Nyimah hopped up from the bed and opened the door quickly. “Is she okay?” she asked, peeking her head out and hearing Ceraya’s faint cries.
“I think so. Did you want me to check?”
“No!” she exclaimed. Then she corrected her tone, softening it, when she added, “I’ll get her. I’ll be out in a second.” She closed the door. Nyimah hadn’t meant to snap at Khiri, but first-time mom syndrome had kicked in, where she feared anyone but herself taking care of her child.
She slipped her feet into fluffy Chanel slippers and entered Ceraya’s nursery. “Okay, okay, Ma Ma. I know you’re hungry. Mommy’s going to get you right.” Nyimah picked Ceraya up and lifted her into the air before lowering her and kissing her forehead. She smelled her diaper and scrunched her nose up. After grabbing a Pampers diaper and wipes from the shelf organizer, Nyimah carried Ceraya into the living room, then laid a blanket on the couch. She placed Ceraya on the blanket and changed her diaper.
“This will be the last diaper you have to change on the couch,” Khiri noted as he began putting the finishing touches on the assembly.
Nyimah blew Ceraya a raspberry and smiled. “We are thankful for you. It would have taken the moving company another week to get here.” Not to mention she was saving almost three hundred dollars with Khiri’s assistance. “I’m going to feed her and get her back to sleep while you finish up.”
“Take your time,” Khiri replied.
By the time Nyimah had fed Ceraya and put her to sleep, Khiri was bringing the changing table down the hall. “You can place it in that corner, by the diaper can,” she instructed.
Khiri nodded. Grunting, he carefully set the new piece of furniture down. He gave it a once-over, and then he walked out of the nursery and met Nyimah in the living room. She had a glass of water in her hand and was sitting cross-legged on the couch.
Glancing down at his watch, he noticed nearly two hours had passed by since he walked in with the box. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, Aida walked into the home.
“Well, hello again, neighbor,” she greeted Khiri sarcastically as she sat grocery bags on the kitchen counter before placing both hands on her hips. “What’s going on here?” she asked while removing her jacket from her arms.
“Khiri put Ceraya’s changing table together for me,” Nyimah answered. She stood and placed her glass on the end table beside her. “He was just about to leave.” She locked eyes with Khiri as he gathered his tools.
“Oh no, don’t let me run you off. You stay. I’ll leave,” Aida teased, smirking. While she knew there was nothing going on between Nyimah and Khiri, she still got a kick out of playing around the idea.
Khiri chuckled as he gripped the tool bag. “Nah, I actually do have a few moves to make. You ladies enjoy yourselves.”
“Thank you again. I owe you one,” Nyimah said as she walked Khiri to the front door.
“Don’t mention it. Anytime you need me, just stop by.”
Nyimah nodded and waved goodbye to Khiri before closing the door behind him. She took a deep breath before turning around to find Aida gawking at her curiously.
“Uh-uh, we are just friends. We cool. Nothing more,” she declared. Knowing her friend like the back of her hand, Nyimah could guess the questions on the tip of her tongue.
Aida twisted her lips into an unconvincing smirk. She hadn’t said a word yet, and Nyimah was already explaining herself. “Friends, huh? I don’t know if I could just be friends with a man that fine, but if you say so.” She moved over to the counter and began unpacking the groceries. They were going to have their own girls’ night, with Aida cooking dinner and Nyimah making the drinks. Nonalcoholic for herself and alcoholic for Aida.
“Come on, bitch! I miss you,” Aida exclaimed.
* * *
Cree brought his fist to his mouth as he blinked away his emotions. He and Nova were at Dr. Leland’s office with Sanai. They watched as the doctor examined Sanai’s reflexes.
“Did you see that?” the doctor asked.
“Was that movement?” Nova exclaimed.
Dr. Leland repeated the action, tapping Sanai’s knee with the reflex hammer. Her leg kicked out in response and nearly sent his tablet flying out of his hands. “I think that’s confirmation enough,” he laughed as he typed his findings into Sanai’s chart.
Nova squeezed Cree’s hand with one hand and held her chest with the other. “Thank you, God,” she whispered.
“What’s next, Dr. Leland?” Cree inquired. After months of being confined to a wheelchair, his baby girl would finally have the chance to walk again. It was the best news he had received in months.
“I’m going to get Sanai scheduled for physical therapy immediately. I recommend Dr. Kathi. She is number one in physical rehabilitation for children and young adults. I know you require only the best for your daughter.” He moved to his laptop to type up the referral. “Are you ready to get back to dancing soon, Sanai?” he asked.
“Yes!” she exclaimed.
“Great! In a couple of months, you will be back at it like you never left!” Dr. Leland assured Sanai.
A weight felt like it had been lifted off the doctor’s shoulders. Sanai’s path to recovery had been trying, and for a moment, they had all feared that the paralysis might be permanent. He tried not to get emotionally attached to patients, but this case had affected him differently. Maybe it was the resilience the little girl had shown over the past few months. Or maybe it was the ferocity with which Cree advocated for her that reminded Dr. Leland of his own children.
“Mom and Dad, I’ve sent the referral over to Dr. Kathi’s office. They’ll be calling in a day or so to confirm an appointment. If you don’t happen to hear from them by then, you can reach them at the number on this paper.” Dr. Leland handed a sheet of paper to Nova.
Cree stood and extended his hand for Dr. Leland to shake. “Thank you for all you’ve done,” he stated.
“Oh, I’m just doing my job,” Dr. Leland replied humbly.
Nova smiled as she followed up with a handshake of her own. “You do your job very well, and our family will never forget how you helped Sanai.”
“Thank you. I will be following up with you guys in about a month to check on Sanai. Enjoy the rest of your week.” Dr. Leland smiled tightly before gathering his belongings and leaving the room.
* * *
By the time they arrived home, it was after eight o’clock in the evening, and Cree put Sanai straight to bed for the night. Her rest was much needed with the long road of physical therapy ahead of her. And tomorrow was Fabian’s birthday, and of course, Loveleen had planned a celebration for his fifty-fifth year of life. Sanai needed her rest if she was going to attend the party.
Nova peered into Cree’s bedroom. He sat on the bed, with his back resting against the headboard and his MacBook sitting on his lap. Gold-rimmed Cartier glasses were positioned on his face. The only time he wore them was when he dealt with anything business related.
