Page 37 of Betrothed To Love

“Well, how was school today?”

“Good. I got a star.”

“Just one? You got two on Friday.”

“Yeah. I didn’t sit down when Miss Sharon asked me,” she admits honestly. Her eyes never leave the masterpiece she’s coloring.

“But why didn’t you sit down when your teacher told you?”

“She not my teacher.”

“She’s your teacher’s assistant and an adult. When an adult asks you to do something, what are you supposed to do?”

“Listen,” she sighs.

“Right. So what happened today then?” I ask.

“I was closing my bag,” she says before looking up at me with her innocent light brown eyes. Niya gets me every time.

“Alright. Well, next time just ask for help then sit down, okay?”

“Okay, Daddy.”

Our server returns with our waters and informs me of what I already know. “They can deshell it all but my manager said it’s an extra fifteen. I just need to confirm before they do it,” he says.

“Yeah. That’s fine,” I tell him.

“Okay,” he says while nodding. “Do you want everything to come out together?”

“Yes and please don’t forget the butter.”

“I got you,” he says, then looks over at Niya’s coloring sheet. “Do you want some more colors?” he asks and she nods. “Okay, I’m gon’ hook you up,” he tells her. He walks off to the hostess stand and returns with a handful of crayons.

“Thank you,” she gushes.

“’Preciate that,” I add.

With her new crayons, a new level of creativity is activated and she looks at the crayons pensively before choosing the next color to add. I think she has Shuga’s love of art because that shit definitely didn’t come from me. Shuga tried to get us to draw and paint but none of us had the talent nor the interest. Niya enjoys coloring and painting with her Nana and I encourage both. The wall behind her bed was painted with dry erase paint and she’s free to create on it.

After pushing her sheet over to me, she looks up at me and asks, “It’s pretty?”

“It’s beautiful,” I gush. “I love it. Is this one for me?” I ask because I have several of her creations in my office and others are in her room.

“No. Imma give it to Miss Sharon tomorrow,” she reveals and I smile.

“She’s gonna like that. Let’s put it up before the food comes,” I say and she gathers the crayons while I open her bag.

We get the crayon and sheet packed up right on time because a few minutes later, our server is back with our food. Before we start to eat, we clean our hands with the sanitizing wipes in her bag.

The seafood boil includes three clusters of snow crabs, a half-pound of large shrimp, three small potatoes, and two mini corn on the cobs. Naturally, Niya can’t and won’t eat all of it. We share it as well as the catfish but the butter is all her; she dips everything in the bag from it.

To make it easier for her to eat, I empty the bag into the provided large, red tray then use my fork to stack the deshelled crab legs on one side. She instantly stops me.

“I got it,” she says. Once she has most of the crab meat in a little pile. She glances over at me then bows her head. I say a quick grace and she says, “A-men.”

I allow her to eat a little before bringing up Mireya. As I eat, I gather my words and choose the most simplistic explanation for my baby girl. Her little mind won’t even comprehend or care about the complicated details. At the end of the day, I just need her to know Mireya will be coming into our lives. When she takes a break to wipe some of the butter from her mouth and hands, I seize the opportunity. After tearing several paper towels from the roll on the table, I help her then encourage her to drink some of her water.

“You’re getting full?” I ask and she nods.