“I need you and Stone to realize I can only marry one man. Even if I were to keep you both, legally I can’t be a wife to both of you.”
“Marriage used to be spiritual, sweetheart. I’m sure we can figure something out.” I cleared my throat, pushed my chair back, and climbed to my feet as my parents made it to the table.
Jiselle looked from them to me then stood as well.
“You brought a date!” my mother said excitedly.
“I did.” I put a hand at the small of Jiselle’s back. “This is Jiselle. Jiselle, these are my parents, Ronald and Mika.”
“Nice to meet you.” She shook each of their hands and we took our seats.
The lights flickered briefly and we were immediately addressed.
“Hey, y’all. We would love it if everyone got their last minute pictures and drinks and be seated so we can get things started.”
“Did you need a drink or anything?” I asked.
“Nope. I’m okay.”
“Okay.”
“So, Jiselle, what do you do?” my mother asked casually.
“I work at a bar,” she said with a smile.
I grinned like an idiot beside her. I liked how she wasn’t intimidated or ashamed of what she did or who she was.
“Is that where you met Kiano?”
“Oh, no. We actually went to school together.”
“She’s Rene’s sister,” I offered.
Business owners or not, my parents had been very invested in my childhood and wellbeing. I was almost positive they could name each of my teachers by first and last name going back to Pre-K if I asked. I’d been on a team with Rene for three years. They knew who he was.
“Oh! And how is your brother?” my father asked.
“He’s good. We talk all the time.”
“Well, that’s good to hear.”
My father stood when the other four people seated at our table walked over. I stood with him. My mother reached over and set a hand on Jiselle’s to signify she didn’t need to follow our lead.
We did quick greetings and introductions then sat down. The lights in the room were slightly dimmed and waiters walked around, distributing bread and salad to each table.
The hostess stood on the stage and gave her spiel, telling us how our generous contributions allowed women to leave bad situations and how our money had allowed them to buy an old apartment building that they planned to turn into transitional housing for the women after helping them find jobs.
My mother was writing in her checkbook before the speech even finished.
From there, they gave us a minute to socialize and Jiselle had the couple seated beside her giggling in no time.
“She seems nice,” my father whispered.
I grinned. “She’s a little rough around the edges, but she’s good people.”
“She’s pretty,” my mom added.
“Beautiful,” I corrected.