Page 88 of Surrender to Love

“So all of these are in here?” he asks.

“Yes. In the bushes and plants along the walls and up there,” I say as I point to the top of the dome.

The dim lights flash and an announcement is made, “Show starts in thirty minutes.”

“Let’s find our seats and set up,” I say excitedly as I hook my arm into his.

“We’re pod eight,” he says.

Tonight’s intimate event is capped at fifty. Twenty-five private pods in the shape of half spheres are lined up and numbered. We find ours and it’s decorated. There’s a fixed table inside with a cushioned bench circling it. Rose petals are scattered on the floor and on the table is a small bouquet of roses along with a red ice bucket keeping a bottle of wine chilled.

“Oh, I love this,” I gush as I slide onto the bench. He gets in beside me then places our basket to my left. Before unpacking, I inch closer to him and wrap my arms around his neck. “This is perfect already. I know this isn’t your thing but I appreciate you bringing me here.”

“If it’s your thing; it’s mine, baby.”

“I owe you a ride for sure after this.”

“Oh I know,” he says with a smirk before kissing me passionately. “Ending the night like we started this morning.”

“That too but I meant a ride on your motorcycle.” He smiles. “We can take a ride after the show,” I say since he drove it here for the weekend. “Then I’m definitely taking our favorite ride.”

The show is better than I could have ever imagined and so are both of my late-night rides. After parking his truck at my house, we take the motorcycle up and through the mountain. Right when we’re heading back to my place, it starts to snow hard so we detour to the cabin. Since we have it all to ourselves, we enjoy the indoor heated pool before ending the night in bed pleasing one another.

My besties are taking their bridesmaids duties seriously and I’m thankful. This evening’s FNF is all about mapping out the final details of my upcoming wedding. Between Tae and them, everything is on track. Giselle is taking care of my bridal/bachelorette party. Alex gifted us our honeymoon, and pregnant, belly-out Reya is coordinating the food with Shuga’s help. Reya’s due the end of April but still being a trooper. The only big decision left to make is my dress. I’m torn between three options and I need to choose quickly for alterations. It’s going to be a total surprise though. I’m keeping it a secret from everyone, including my sistas, until my wedding day.

In just thirty-three days, in an intimate ceremony surrounded by family and friends, I’ll become Mrs. Kyrah Bako and start my forever with my beautiful man. My heart is full and my life is blessed beyond measure. The day is going to be the closest to perfection as it can be. There’s only one thing that could make it better, but I’ve resigned myself to accept my disappointing reality. As loved as I am by so many, I still can’t make everyone love me. That thought about my mom puts a sense of urgency in my steps and I make a beeline for my bar.

I need a damn drink before I shower and change.

On most Fridays, I leave campus and head straight to Giselle’s, but today I left campus early. My needy and overly flirtatious visiting professor, Dr. Trey Evans, bogarted his way back into my office and had the nerve to ask me to dinner. I immediately shut him down, flashed my ring in his face, and issued him a real warning about his inappropriateness. The day had already been stressful due to an impromptu audit by our campus compliance team, but his antics took me over the edge and I left within an hour of him being in my office.

Because I’m definitely drinking more at Giselle’s, I make this drink on the lighter side. My glass has more ice and margarita mix than tequila but it does the job of calming my nerves and curving my thoughts. I’m sipping it as I ascend my steps but stop when my doorbell chimes.

Who the hell is that?

In Chandler Heights, all guests are cleared and announced before arriving at a residence unless security knows and has previously cleared them. My cleared list is small and neither Shiro nor my besties should be here.

“Who is it?” I ask as I walk down.

“You mother,” I hear and my body freezes. “Can I come in, Rah-Rah? Please.”

It’s been almost six months since I’ve seen or talked to my mother. I still pay her mortgage and make my usual deposits in her account but we’ve had no personal interactions. As much as I need and want to protect my feelings and heart, I do miss and love her. She’s the only parent I have left and it bothers me that we can’t and haven’t had a relationship in months. I’m in love, truly in love, happy and marrying the man who was always meant for me.

Of course, I want to share that with her.

What daughter wouldn’t want her mother by her side during this time in her life?

After taking another large sip of my drink, I inhale a massive puff of air, slowly release it, then take the last few steps and walk to the door. When I open it, her pensive but always pretty face stares at me.

A wry smile creeps on her face then she timidly asks, “Can I come in?”

“Of course,” I respond, then step back to allow her in. She removes her snow-covered ankle boots and coat and places them on the rack by the door then follows me into the living room. Before I sit, I place my glass on my coffee table and look at her. She’s sitting but looking as uneasy as I feel. This isn’t us and I never thought we would be here, awkward together like this. “Do you want something to drink?”

“I can have what you’re having,” she says.

“I have bourbon, Momma. I can make your bourbon and coke,” I tell her and she nods.

“Thanks. I’d like that.”