“Back home. Enjoying some alone time for now. There was a hurricane-Camille-it went through Mississippi and Louisiana. Some of the family she saw during her trip may be coming up to visit for a while.”
His bronzed face lit up with a smile. “You’re always welcomed at my place, you know?”
“Thanks,” the quick laugh didn’t quite meet her hazel eyes.
Pitch studied the clear, endless skies and sighed. “I’m sorry,” he met her eyes then. “Don’t act like you don’t know what I mean. I’m sorry and I love you.”
“Vic-”
“I love you and I’m sorry for giving you reason to doubt that.”
“You haven’t.”
“But you don’t trust that I think it’s enough.”
Candace was ready to argue, but stifled the urge. “What do we do about this?” She asked instead.
He drew her close, put a kiss to the corner of her eye. “I could start by getting over my step mother issues.”
“Your issues are valid,” Candace went to the toes of her sandals and pushed her hands up and over his eclipsing shoulders. “There are better ways to ease my doubts, you know?”
“Way ahead of you there, Miss Strong,” with that said, he took her off her feet and brought his mouth to hers.
***
All wedding events were slated to happen at sunset. The backdrop of mountains enhanced the already mesmerizing landscape of the Kamande home and was the perfect locale.
The day’s sunset was enjoyed at the mountain’s base. A rich breeze whipped the white cloth spread across the long, rectangular table that accommodate the Kamande’s new guests for drinks and light refreshments before dinner.
The newlyweds Faraji and Meena Kamande had postponed their honeymoon in order to attend Roman’s and Imani’s wedding. The rest of Imani’s brothers and their wives also attended. Her eldest brother, Eka, was now thought to be in Cape Town, South Africa following the disgrace he had brought to the family. There was no shortage of family members however. Also in attendance were Isis Kamande’s youngest sister Charifa Morris and her two daughters Ashira and Chazria who had made the trip from Queens. The women had arrived the day after Liam and Pitch.
The elder Kamandes had struck up a quick comradery with Liam Tesano. Despite her sometimes icy, unapproachable demeanor, Isis was completely charmed by her daughter’s soon to be father-in-law.
From the other end of the long table, the bride and groom observed the new friends talking and laughing.
“I don’t know if I agree with you P. I think Ma and Miss Isis might've hit it off.”
Pitch’s roar of a laugh was contagious. “Something would’ve been hit, alright.”
“Your mother’s really serious about making this an American wedding.” Candace helped herself to another shrimp puff and sighed. “She’s pulling out all the stops for breakfast and dinner.”
“She feels badly about giving Roman such a terrible time,” Imani smoothed a hand over her fiance’s arm. “She’s trying to make it up to him.”
Roman took Imani’s hand, pressed it to his cheek. “She’s given me enough,” he said.
“Well then, you’re really gonna think she’s gone crazy when you see Imani’s dress,” Candace raved.
“Can’t wait,” Roman looked satisfied for little over a minute and then turned to his brother with a drawn expression. “You should know I’m thinking about staying after the wedding. I don’t know for how long.”
Pitch raised his glass in toast. “Can’t say I blame you,” he savored another long swallow of Nipa, a locally brewed liquor. “This place is unreal.”
“I think you’ll enjoy the tour, Pitch,” Imani said of the men’s only outing that a few of her cousins had arranged for their American guests.
“Now you’re sure this is a stag thing, right Imani? Not some safari to a lion’s den?”
“Be cool, P,” Roman urged his brother. “I’ve already won everybody over with my wit and charisma.”
Pitch groaned and downed the rest of the potent drink while the others laughed.
***
There was an infectious energy charging the air a few evenings later. Sunset was on approach and the guests were assembled. Once again, fine music flavored the atmosphere. The musicians were some of the most talented of the continent and had been flown in especially for the event.
The bride and groom were hesitant about such extravagance. The elder Kamandes however, were of equal agreement. The timing of the wedding was a convenient tie-in to their youngest son’s nuptials. Still, no expense would be spared to make their only daughter’s wedding a special and unique occasion.
The bridal tree was the site for the exchange of vows. Weakening sunlight shone through the generous leaves of the Baobab. The crowd was abundant and yet a sense of intimacy continued to surround the moment.
When Imani appeared on her father’s arm, the musicians silenced their play and let nature do the entertaining. The blending of sounds summoned by man-made instruments acquiesced to those of more superior quality. The rustle of the unusually cool breeze against the leaves provided the accompaniment for birdsong and the call of the wild creatures roaming the distance.
Roman could hear none of it, visualized even less. He only saw Imani. She was all he wanted to see. An elegant dark vision in a creation of white cotton and silk, she stood amid a sea of natural color and walked forward on her father’s arm.
She looked every part the princess that day. Most of her braids were swept into an elaborate coiffure with the rest gathered in a single thick braid that draped over one shoulder. The style further emphasized the off shoulder design of the dress with its low décolletage and tapered bodice embroidered by lines of small roses in bloom. They outlined the undercurve of her breasts and met to form a vee that fanned out into a multi-layered train covering the back of a majestic bell skirt.
The bride approached her groom on white slippers that infrequently peeked beneath the hem that dragged the ground. Terrified, she looked everywhere except straight ahead and only spared the guests fleeting looks. The spellbinding sounds of nature were more deafening than melodic to her ears and she clutched her father’s arm in hopes of remaining on her feet instead of falling flat on her face.
She risked a look straight ahead and felt her breath catch at the sight of Roman near the tree. He unquestionably embodied the tall, dark and handsome fantasy it was believed all women aspired to claim. When strong and gallant were added to the list, only then was the fantasy realized, Imani thought and could sense her terror being nudged aside by anticipation. It had intrigued-plagued her more each day she’d known him. The anticipation, the...curiosity was about to end and he would be hers forever.
~~~
