Let's Get It On (25 page)

“You don't have to work, Kenya. I make—”

“You really don't expect me to quit my job and become one of those stereotypical NFL wives,” she said, with her hands on her hips. “That has never been my goal.”

“I know that,” he said. “But if you wanted to move back to Atlanta, we could.”

Kenya kissed him on the nose. “You and James have your business in Charlotte, and you're becoming sort of an icon in the city.”

“And I don't want our kids to grow up with the Holly-weird syndrome, either, thinking that the world is theirs because of who I am.”

“Trust me, they won't,” Kenya said, “I'm not going to have any of that. When we have children, I'll keep them firmly grounded in reality, no matter how many Super Bowl rings their daddy has.”

They headed for the counter, and when Maryann saw them, she bolted from behind it, ignoring the line of customers, and enveloped Maurice and Kenya in a big bear hug.

“I'm so happy to see you two,
together
,” she said. “I thought James was pulling my leg.”

“It's true,” Maurice said through his smile.

Maryann looked at her grumbling customers, then ushered Kenya and Maurice to an empty table in a corner. “I'll be right back with sticky buns and coffee. Let me clear this line.”

“Why don't you have anyone working with you?” Maurice asked.

“I'm glad you volunteered,” said Maryann. “Kenya, you don't mind if I take him for a few?”

“Not at all, Mrs. Goings,” Kenya said.

Maryann waved her hand. “You know we aren't that formal. You can call me Maryann. We're about to be family.”

As Maurice and his mother walked away, Kenya couldn't help but wish that her family had welcomed Maurice the way Maryann had welcomed her.

The customers, who'd previously been grumbling about standing in line so long to wait for their morning sweets, were excited to be served by Atlanta's favorite son—even if he did get their coffee orders wrong.

Kenya smiled as she watched him interact with the customers. Even when some of the ladies, both young and old, flirted with him, it didn't bother her, because she knew who he was going home with and where his heart belonged. Kenya no longer had to question Maurice's love or loyalty. He was totally hers.

The bakery cleared as quickly as it had filled. Maryann put a sign that read
BACK IN FIFTEEN MINUTES
on the door, locked it, and took a seat with Kenya and Maurice. “All right,” Maryann said as she set coffee and sticky buns in front of them. “How did this reunion happen? James told me bits and pieces, but I want to hear the whole story.”

Maurice pinched off one of the buns and smiled at Kenya. “The first thing she did when she saw me was slap me.”

Maryann laughed. “And I'm sure you deserved it,” she said.

“Maurice, tell the truth,” Kenya said. “You were eyeing me like I was a piece of meat on a grill.”

Maryann popped Maurice on the hand as he picked up another piece of the bun. “You're in training. Anyway, after you guys met on the island, Kenya, you just decided to move back to Charlotte?”

Kenya shook her head as she took a slow sip of coffee. “I was already moving to Charlotte, and your son was the last person that I wanted to see. So, imagine how surprised I was when he was one of the first people that I ran into in the Bahamas.”

Maryann shook her head as if she was reliving bad memories from Maurice's involvement with Lauryn. “I can't blame you for not wanting to see him. After all, he was supposed to marry that heifer.” She paused to bite into a bun. “I'm not sorry that they didn't make it past the ‘I dos,' but I was hurting that it was so public.”

Maurice picked up his coffee. “I messed up, but that's behind me, and who cares about her anymore?” He looked pointedly at Kenya.

“That's right,” Kenya said.

“I'm glad that you've forgiven my son, but I'm sure Angela doesn't feel the same way,” Maryann said as she poured more coffee into Kenya's cup.

Kenya shook her head. “It doesn't matter, though. Maurice and I aren't children, and we don't need my parents' permission to get married.”

“I know that, and I also know how close you and your mother are. But she'll accept this marriage when she sees how happy you are. Just look at that smile on your face. The two of you have been grinning and smiling since you walked through the door.”

Kenya touched her own cheek, unaware of the fact that she was smiling. However, she did know that Maurice made her feel like nothing else in the world mattered.

“Ma, not everybody thinks your son walks on water, like you do.”

Maryann sucked her teeth. “Boy, don't make me slap you. So, how long are you two going to be in town?”

“We're on our way back to Charlotte,” Maurice said.

Maryann nodded. “I'm glad you stopped by. Should I assume that things didn't go so well with your parents, Kenya?”

“Not exactly, but my dad seemed a little more accepting than my mother,” Kenya said.

“Then he'll work on bringing your mother around. That's the good thing about having a real marriage. You work things out as a team,” Maryann said as she rose to her feet and held her arms open to Kenya. “My son has always loved you.”

Kenya hugged her future mother-in-law tightly. “I know.”

Maurice looked down at his watch. “We'd better get going,” he said. “Ma, I'll call you when we get home.”

Maryann kissed her son and ushered the couple out the door. “Drive safely, and no speeding,” she admonished.

“Yes, ma'am,” Kenya and Maurice said as they headed out the door.

The drive back to Charlotte seemed to go by quicker because there wasn't that much traffic since most of Atlanta was at work. Obviously, someone was smiling on them, Kenya thought as she drove down the nearly empty interstate. She cast a sidelong glance at Maurice.

“Your mother's so sweet,” she said.

“When she wants to be. She loves you, though. Always has. She didn't take to kindly to me bringing Lauryn home that first Thanksgiving,” Maurice said.

“I don't blame her, there was enough turkey there already. I saw you two that day,” Kenya said.

“Really? I-I . . .”

“I wanted to throw up when I saw her in that micromini skirt, hanging on you like a cheap suit. I was thinking that maybe it was love because your mother was going to eat her alive.” Kenya laughed. “But everything happens for a reason. I was never happier that we were going to Covington for Thanksgiving dinner.”

“Believe it or not, it took everything in me not to go over there to see how you were doing,” he said.

“I believe it—not!” she said.

“I had to wait until Lauryn went to sleep, and then there was the chance that your dad, your mom, or you would have shot me.”

Kenya shook her head. “I never thought I'd look back on this and laugh,” she said. “That was the most hurtful period in my life.”

“I'm sorry,” he said.

“You don't have to keep apologizing. I realize that I needed that pain to grow and realize who I was. For too long, I allowed you to define me, and I tried to do everything that I thought would make you happy. If it hadn't been Lauryn who broke us up, it would've been something else, because we were growing in different directions, yet we didn't want to admit it.”

“Why do you think we found our way back to each other?”

“You grew up.”

All Maurice could do was laugh.

Two weeks after Kenya had returned from Atlanta, she still hadn't spoken to her mother. It was as if the women were locked in a battle of wills to see who would call whom first.

Kenya and Maurice were planning a simple and low-key wedding, and they were going to get married after the month-long training camp ended in late July. There would be no cameras; there would be no ESPN news flashes about this wedding. Kenya wanted the day to be about her and Maurice.

“Miss Taylor,” Talisha said over the intercom, “you have a visitor in the lobby.”

“Who is it?” asked Kenya.

“Angela Taylor.”

Hearing her mother's name shocked her. What was she doing here? Was she going to throw her support behind her union with Maurice, or was she here to restate her objections?

“I'll go down and meet her,” Kenya said, suddenly feeling a sense of dread wash over her. She rose to her feet and smoothed her cream slacks and tugged at her pink tunic. Maybe she should've worn a designer suit instead. Kenya shook those thoughts out of her mind. Her mother had never cared about how her daughter looked, and they had rarely argued. So, maybe her mother's visit wasn't going to be another argument.

By the time she reached the lobby, Kenya had gone over in her mind every reason why her mother was there, from the absurd to the benign. Coming face-to-face with Angela, she returned the warm smile her mother greeted her with. “Mom, what a surprise.”

“Yes, well, I would've called but I wasn't sure if you'd answer,” Angela said. “I went to an editorial conference here at the
Charlotte Observer,
and I couldn't come to this city without coming to see you.”

Kenya hugged her mother tightly. “Thanks for coming. Let me take you to my office.”

“Yes, let's see how the other half lives. This is a nice building,” Angela said. “And I see it's right across from the football stadium.”

“I was wondering how long it was going to take . . .”

Angela shook her head as they stepped on the elevator.

“I'm not here for an argument,” she said. “I still think you're making a mistake, but this isn't about me.”

“What?”

“I don't like this decision of yours, but it
is
your decision. How can I respect you as an adult if I don't respect your choices? You're a smart woman, and obviously, there is something you see in Maurice that I never will.”

“So, are you coming to my wedding?” Kenya asked.

“You think I would miss it? And, no, I'm not going to object.”

The elevator doors opened, and the ladies stepped off and then walked into Kenya's office. Angela nodded in wonderment as she looked around her daughter's space. “Impressive.”

Kenya offered her mother a cup of coffee. “So, what accounts for your change of heart?” she asked Angela.

“Because when you left a few weeks ago, I thought I'd pushed you away. That's something I never want to do. We've always had a great relationship. When your friends were driving their parents crazy as teenagers, you were a little angel. We never had that mother-daughter drama. Sure, you and Maurice were doing whatever teenagers do, but you did what I asked of you. Never broke curfew, came to me with your problems, and you never lied to me. The older you got, the more I came to respect you and realize that your father and I did a great job of raising you.

“The whole thing with Maurice hurt me because it hurt you so badly, and I tried to stay out of it. I even stopped speaking to Maryann, even though it wasn't her fault. I didn't even get my sticky buns for Saturday morning breakfast for a long time, because seeing you in so much pain made me angry. Your father told me to let you work through it, and when I was about to let it all go, I found out that you'd lost Maurice's baby.”

“We've gone over this,” Kenya said.

“I know, but the point I'm trying to make is, your life is your life, and I'm going to have to support your decision, even if I don't agree with it,” Angela said. “Besides, I don't want to become my mother.”

“What does Grandma have to do with this?” Kenya asked, furrowing her brows in confusion.

As a little girl, Kenya didn't see her maternal grandmother often, and when Louise Johnson died, Kenya felt like she didn't know her grandmother enough to be really sad about it.

“There's a reason why my mother didn't come over for family dinners and during the holidays. It wasn't because she was jet-setting around the globe, either. She never liked your father. She thought Henry was too country, not sophisticated enough to be a part of our family.”

“Why would she think something silly like that? It's not like Atlanta has always been some big metropolis,” Kenya said. “Besides, Daddy has always been a good provider and . . .”

“That didn't matter to her. It was always about appearances and what made her and our family look good or bad. With her, it wasn't about what I wanted. It was what she wanted,” Angela said, with a far-off look in her eye. “I hate that our relationship was destroyed because I loved your father. I love Henry, and I loved my mother. She wanted me to choose, and I did. That's a position that I never want to put you in. I felt like that's just what I was doing. When we had our argument, I had a flashback to that night my mother disowned me.”

Kenya touched her mother on the shoulder. “Mom, I love you, and I don't think that we're going to end up like you and Grandma.”

“I'm not going to let it happen,” Angela said. “Even if that means I have to be Maurice Goings's mother-in-law.”

Kenya hugged her mother tightly. “If you get to know him and let go of the past, you'll see what I see.”

Angela wiped the tear that slid down her cheek. “I doubt I'll ever see him as you do, but I'm going to try.”

 

 

Maurice stood in the Brothers Reality office, waiting for his brother to come in. It had been months since he'd checked on their projects or visited the work space. But the rift between him and his brother was his main concern as he sat down at James's desk. Maurice realized that he'd taken advantage of his brother over the years. He had allowed James to be his cleanup man; he had allowed him to step in and take the hits that he, Maurice, should have taken. He owed James an apology, and he was going to give him one.

Angela's words rang in his head as he waited for James.
You say all the right things, Maurice. Your silver tongue has always been your secret weapon, but I'm not one of your little fans. You're a liar, and you will always be one in my book.

“
What are you doing here?” James asked when he walked into the office and dropped his briefcase on his desk.

“I came to talk to you,” Maurice said. “How's business?”

“You should know. You own the place. Mind if I get my seat, or are you here to take over?”

Maurice rose to his feet and walked away from his brother's chair. “I'm here because I want to apologize to you for all of this stuff that's been going on and how I've been treating you. Even when we were kids, I used you to get me out of trouble. I know it was wrong.”

“What? You must need a blood donation or something,” James said as he started up the computer.

“No, I don't. I've taken advantage of you, I made you take the heat for some things that I should've been a man about and stood up to, and I accused you trying to be with Kenya when I knew that you two were just friends,” Maurice said as he sat on the edge of the desk. “I don't want us to have any bad blood between us. We're brothers, and that means more to me than anything else.”

James folded his arms across his chest and looked at his brother. “Yeah, all right,” he said.

“Come on, man. I'm pouring my heart out here.”

“And I've heard this song and dance before, too,” James said. “Do you mean it this time?”

“This time?” Maurice asked.

“Yes, Mo, this time. I've heard you apologize to me so many times over the years that I've lost count. ‘James, I'm sorry I don't spend more time with the business,' or ‘James, I'm sorry I asked you to sneak that freak out of the house for me.' I'm sick of being your wingman, and I don't appreciate how you accused me of trying to move in on Kenya when I spent the night with her, trying to convince her to give you another shot.”

Maurice nodded. “And I . . .” James cut him off.

“How do you thank me? By being an asshole. You're my brother, and I love you, but it's going to take more than words. Maybe you need to start pulling your weight around here so I can have a life that doesn't involve cleaning up your messes.”

Maurice looked at his brother thoughtfully. “Is it really that bad? I mean, I've done some things, and I've asked you to do some things for me that I shouldn't have, but we're brothers.”

James folded his arms across his chest and leaned back in his chair, then laughed. “It hasn't been that bad, but it's been bad enough.”

“The only thing I need you to do for me is to be my best man,” Maurice said.

James rose to his feet and crossed over to his brother.

“You think you're going to actually make it through the ceremony this time?”

“Aw, I see. You got jokes,” Maurice said as he pulled his brother into his arms and hugged him. “I should've never gone down the aisle with anyone other than Kenya.”

“That's the smartest thing I've heard you say in years.” James stepped back from Maurice. “Come on and buy me breakfast.”

They headed to the Coffee Cup, and once they sat down, the tension between them floated away like butterflies in the summer sun. They laughed about Maurice's upcoming wedding and how different it would be from the media circus Lauryn had planned.

“You know Momma was thrilled when I told her that you and Kenya were getting back together. I could see her smile all the way from Atlanta.”

“I wish Kenya's mother was just as happy,” Maurice said.

“She doesn't look too sad to me.” James nodded toward the door.

Maurice turned and saw Kenya and Angela walking into the restaurant, smiling and laughing. Kenya's eyes met his; then she tapped her mother on the shoulder. Angela glanced over at Maurice and James, then smiled thinly.

Maurice, against his better judgment, motioned for them to join him and his brother.
Lord, please don't let this woman come over here tripping today,
he told himself.

James and Angela embraced when she reached the table. “Look at you, little James Goings. You look great. So tall. I remember when you were just knee high.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Taylor,” said James. He pulled a chair out for Angela as Maurice and Kenya kissed.

“I didn't expect to see you here this morning,” Kenya said. “Hi, James.”

“Hey, Kenya,” James said, flashing her a big smile.

Angela looked around the quaint restaurant, surprised to see such a diverse crowd of business people in fancy suits; construction workers in dusty jeans, holding hard hats and safety glasses; and a few people with ear, nose, and eye piercings and tattoos, who were not workers in the corporate world.

“This is an interesting place,” Angela said. “It reminds me of some of the greasy spoons in Atlanta.”

Kenya and James nodded, while Maurice looked down at the dog-eared menu. He didn't know what to say to Angela or what she was going to say to him.

“What's good here?” Angela asked, looking pointedly at Maurice.

“Just about everything. I like the cheese omelet and a side of bacon,” Maurice said as he looked up at Angela.

Angela drummed her fingers on the table. “All right, let's cut the bull,” she said. “For my daughter's sake, I'm going to try and be nicer to you. It's going to be hard, because I still think this marriage is a—”

“Mom,” Kenya warned, raising her eyebrows.

“Listen,” Angela said. “I'll never see you through the same eyes that my daughter does. But I'll respect her decision, and if being your wife is what she wants, then I'll have to live with it. One day, maybe you and I will be friends.”

Maurice smiled at Angela. “Thank you, Mrs. Taylor. I know that I did some things in the past that . . .”

Angela waved her hand. “The past is the past, and I want to believe that you've learned your lesson. I won't make the same mistake that my parents made. I don't have to live with you, and I promise, I won't carve you instead of the turkey at Thanksgiving.”

Everyone at the table laughed, and Maurice felt like he and Angela would get along one day, though he wasn't ready to reach across the table and hug her just yet.

“All right,” James said. “This is all touching and what not, but I'm hungry. Hand me that menu, and somebody get the waitress.”

Kenya hugged her mother, and they proceeded to order a down-home breakfast.