Imani was a picture of poise and reverence as she weighed her mother’s question. Roman found that he couldn’t look away. Her manner was even more riveting than her outer appeal which was substantial. She was an exquisite thing with her hair piled into a loose ball atop her head. The vibrant colors of the ankle length dashiki dress accentuated her dark skin in remarkable fashion. She didn’t merely reflect grace, she embodied it. Everyday, he found some new facet of her to fall in love with.
“I don’t know what being a wife involves,” she was saying, her humble demeanor expressed in her quiet voice and the clasp of her hands in her lap. “I can’t honestly say that I’m ready in light of that. No more ready than I was when you wanted me to marry Nassor.”
Roman and the Chief shielded their smiles as the women faced off.
Isis’ expression appeared stern at first glance, but a trace of approval glinted in her exotic stare.
“Why did you say yes to him?” She cut a look toward Roman. “Was it his looks? I can’t think of a woman alive who could say no to that face. Except me, of course,” she eased a playfully coy look to her husband.
“Of course,” the Chief replied and shared quiet laughter with his wife.
Imani felt too edgy to be amused. “How did you know? That Papa was the one?”
“I didn’t.” Isis lifted a shoulder. “But then, I didn’t have a choice.”
“Neither have I,” Imani countered. “It took Nassor trying to-do what he did to make everyone see that he wasn’t for me.”
“And you believe young Mr. Tesano is for you?”
“Yes,” Imani looked steadily to Roman. “Yes, he is,” she blinked after a moment and looked back to her mother. “It doesn’t have anything to do with his looks, it-it doesn’t have...everything to do with his...his looks,” with effort she cleared her throat on the clarification.
“I just know, okay Ma?” Imani gave in to the utter helplessness claiming her then. “I just know. Can’t that be enough?”
Isis remained rigid, her posture perfect. She held the pose a second longer and then smiled with undeniable warmth and motherly adoration. “Yes, love. Yes it can. For you.” The chill reclaimed its place in her demeanor and tone as her gaze settled to Roman once again.
“I understand your family is somewhat racist.”
“Mamae!”
“Isis!”
Imani and her father cried out in unison.
Isis didn’t look at all remorseful in her choice of words. “Char told me,” she referred to her sister Charifa Morris. “She heard it from her neighbor Daniella Strong. Her daughter Candace is seeing your brother, I believe?”
Roman’s nod seemed forced. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Sounds like that boy has gone through hell, especially with your mother. Then there are your brothers who said offensive things to my daughter, yes?”
Roman’s nod was a little less forced then. “Yes.”
“You put one of them in the hospital.”
Roman responded with a savory smile. “That would’ve been satisfying but they pulled me off him before I could make it happen.”
Isis nodded slowly and regarded Roman with deep approval. “I like that,” she said.
“If you haven’t guessed it yet, Roman, my wife is the bloodthirsty one of us.”
“Roman could have killed his brother, Ma,” Imani’s tone was hushed yet heated.
Isis raised a brow. “Then we understand each other, Mr. Tesano. I don’t care how many factories your father owns or how white your mother thinks your father’s success makes you. I’ll come after anyone who hurts my girl, including you.”
“And I would deserve it, Mrs. Kamande. In the worst way you could imagine. My father doesn’t consider himself part of the land stealing, slave holding lines that first came to America.” Roman leaned forward in the chair. “He admires those who built their legacies and wealth by the sweat of their own brows and backs and with hard work and sacrifice. I hope, in time, you’ll see me that way.”
Isis’ astute gaze narrowed. “I think I might like that.”
Silence held among the library’s four occupants.
“Are we giving them our blessings then, Ice?” The Chief asked finally.
“We’re giving them more than that,” Isis clapped her hands to the polished wooden arms of the chair. “We’re giving them a wedding in two weeks.”
“What?” Imani sounded petrified.
Roman appeared mystified.
Isis was on her feet. The Chief rapidly followed suit.
“Ma-”
“Yes, yes, I know it’s a wonderful idea! Raj and Meena will be married in a few days. We may as well get the most out of all the prep work that’s gone into all this.” Isis looked totally pleased with herself. “So many have traveled in for the ceremony, the timing couldn’t be better.”
Imani sat watching her mother in horrified disbelief.
“...we already had a dress started for you when we hoped you’d be walking down the aisle after Chicago.”
“I can’t get married in Nassor’s dress, Ma-”
