Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 124320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
“It’s not the holiday we have in common.” I look at our family, full of varying religions and practices. “It’s each other. We’re what brought us together.”
Kimba nods, a contented smile on her face. Hard-earned contentment. We have taken a journey that would break most couples, but we aren’t most.
We’re soul mates.
As fanciful as that may sound, I believe it. Religion, politics, beliefs—all the things that form a person’s worldview—none of them are as strong as what binds me to her: the connective tissue of our souls.
“Everyone’s occupied,” I whisper. “Let’s go up to the roof.”
She looks at me, one brow raised. “Should we sneak off when we have a full house?”
“We should sneak off because we have a full house.” I bend to her ear. “I’ve barely kissed you all day in this asylum. These people are crazy.”
She laughs, her lips, bare and pretty and full, spread into a smile. Hand in hand, we climb the two stories to reach the roof. The view from here is what sold me on this house. The Atlanta skyline, light-speckled buildings glittering at night like diamonds on a bed of black satin. A line of skyscrapers reaching for the stars, as aspirational as the people who live here. Kimba turns on the fairy lights. I light the firepit, pull out two champagne glasses and a bottle from the ice bucket behind the bar.
“You planned this, huh? Having your way with me on the roof?” She grins, nods to the bottle. “And you know I can’t have that.”
I turn the bottle so she can see the label. “It’s sparkling cider, and yes, I’ve been fantasizing about having my way with you on the roof all day.”
I fill the glasses and take one of the couches, sinking into the soft cushions. She grabs blankets from the nearby hutch and settles in front of me, her back pressed to my chest, and pulls the blankets over us.
“You cold?” I kiss the curls she’s left loose and free tonight, handing her a glass of the honey-colored liquid.
She wiggles against me and drops her head into the curve of my neck and shoulder. “I’m fine for now.”
“How do you think dinner went?” I ask, linking our fingers and resting them on her stomach.
“As well as can be expected with all we had going on.” Her shoulders shake against me. “Your ex and her boyfriend were there with the children you had together. Our mothers were in the same room for the first time in twenty-five years since they broke off their affair. And your stepfather is here. It’s just…all so weird. I thought Aiko getting pregnant was some Jerry Springer shit.”
The richness of our laughter floats over the fire, out to the stars.
“Mona would have loved this,” I tell her. “She would have been shaking her head and making fun of us all night.”
“I hope she’s having a good time. Meeting your boyfriend’s family, it’s a lot.”
“She and Jamal have been dating for so long. It’s about time she met his family.”
“They’ve been dating off and on,” Kimba corrects, “not exclusively for that long. I don’t blame Mona for being cautious. She’s been hurt before. She needed to know Jamal was serious.”
“I’m happy for her.” I hold up her left hand, study the square diamond I put there nearly a year ago. “I’m happy for us.”
There was no long engagement. Why would there be? We were both sure. We married on Valentine’s Day, barely a month past Governor Ruiz’s inaugural ball, and started trying for a baby immediately. Actually before immediately.
“When should we tell them?” Kimba asks, pressing our hands to her flat stomach.
“I’d like to wait as long as we can.”
“Why?” She tilts her head, catching my gaze over her shoulder. Her dark eyes, fringed with a thick veil of lashes, make me lose my train of thought. Make me lose my mind. They always have.
“Why do you want to wait?” she asks again, nudging her elbow into my ribs.
“It’s our secret. I want to keep it just ours as long as we can. It’s been a lot of work and some disappointment. I just want to savor it for a bit.”
She swallows hard, disrupting the smooth line of her throat, and tears swim in her eyes. This isn’t our first pregnancy. We lost one, so early we barely had time to celebrate, but it still hurt. Trying to have a baby when your body is hormonally resisting it in every way is difficult. Kimba manages the hot flashes and other symptoms of perimenopause with homeopathic remedies and yoga as much as she can, but there’s no denying her body is marching in that direction. And we’re fighting to get our babies before it’s too late. We wanted to try naturally first, even though we have eggs frozen and waiting. The doctor was surprised that, considering the perimenopause, we were able to conceive not once, but twice.