By some miracle my mother managed to get a hold of LeChé for a last-minute consultation before she was due to fly out to Paris for some heiress's wedding.
We had her studio to ourselves as she promised us exclusivity and her total attention. After all, I was West Coast royalty. It was "an honor," she'd claimed.
All around me as we sat in a private fitting room were rack upon rack of wedding dresses waiting for me. There were whites, off-whites, nudes, and a mysterious rose one I couldn't help but crane my neck to peek at.
As I sat on a sofa in my vintage Baby Phat tracksuit, taking it all in, I couldn't bring myself to get into the groove of things.
Stephanie and Elyse were due any minute to join us for the pageantry of my trying on dresses and being measured, and I honestly couldn't muster up the energy to pretend to care. LeChé was off somewhere rummaging around for something she needed. It was just my mother and me as I tried my very best not to cry.
I did not want this.
My mother flicked her wrist out, eyeing the watch on it. "Everybody should be here by now. Did you give Jadyn the right address?"
I hung my head. "She's not coming."
At once I could feel my mother's gaze on me. "Well, then, she's certainly missing a lot of these events, isn't she?"
It wasn't that Jadyn was being an awful friend, it was just that I didn't want to put her through this. Her support meant everything, but she was too real to come around and "fake the funk" as she would say. One look at my empty eyes and she'd call out my parents and Cain—no matter how fine she thought he was. "It's not her, Mom, it's just...none of this means anything to me. She wants to be here, but I don't even want to be here."
My mother sympathized with me as she frowned. She was sitting across from me on a matching baby blue and white striped chesterfield. Between us was a clawfoot glass coffee table with complimentary glasses of champagne. I was sad enough to drink my troubles away, but I didn't trust myself with too much alcohol in my system. Being a nondrinker, I was a lightweight. Who knew if the stuff would act like truth serum and get every raging thought weighing me down out of my head.
"Does she know?" my mother asked gently, alluding to my affair.
I nodded.
My mother looked elsewhere, no judgment passing over her face. "Well, what's he like?"
My stomach lurched at the thought of disclosing information about Keith.
My mother snorted. "Oh, come on. At least let me know what this young man is like. Where did you meet him? Does he know about what's going on?"
My lips stayed closed and a visceral pain had my fingers clutching the material of the seat cushions.
My mother noticed. She calmed down her approach. "Kennedy. I haven't said a word to your father or anyone else. What you have going on is safe with me."
In my past relationship with Gaius, while I hadn't told her everything, she'd still been up to date on us. She knew whenever he sent me flowers, whenever he wanted to take a trip, and whenever he was upset about a game. She was my mother. I could come to her for any and everything. She'd always welcomed me with open arms and all I wanted to do in that moment was fall into her and confess my sins, but I remained seated instead.
"Keith is good to me," I said in the end. "I, uh— When I left the engagement party that night I went to Bedford Heights and caught a flat tire. He came to help me and we just sorta happened. He's such an amazing guy, he's hardworking, honest, making a difference for his community, and he could do a lot better, but he doesn't see that yet."
My mother narrowed her eyes. "What makes you think you're not good enough for him?"
I knew what she was doing, but this wasn't about my self-esteem. I smiled bitterly. "His ex really did a number on his ego by making him feel like he wasn't good enough for her, and here I am telling him he's only good enough for a screw.
"I hate this for him, because I'm only holding him back. But I'm selfish because I want every bit of him and I know I can't have him, or give him more." I blinked back tears; happy I'd forgone makeup for the day. "In a perfect world...I'd love for Daddy to meet him, because I know he'd love him. Keith teaches me things, and he's not impressed by all this."
Instead of watching me crumble, my mother stood and came over to me. She hugged me close, allowing me to bury my face into her chest and let out a long-earned sob. Thankfully, I didn't ugly cry and do the whole waterworks thing, but letting out the pain eased up the vise on my heart.
My mother pulled back and wiped away my tears. "Oh, baby, we gotta get this handled. I don't know what to do, but these men gotta leave you of their business. Even if Keith isn't the one for you in the end, it should be up to you."
I sniffled, fixing myself together. I thought of my father, and I thought of Cain. Everything was gray as confusion set in.
Somewhere in the background a door shut loudly and I snapped to as I rushed to look presentable. Tucking some hair behind my ears, I sat up straight and braced myself to face other people.
Footsteps echoed across the hardwood floor as Stephanie and Elyse entered the room from our left. Both looked ecstatic for the day's event. Elyse was even wielding a bottle of her own champagne.
Just as they entered the room, LeChé was coming in behind them appearing apologetic. "Sorry for the wait, I got caught up on the phone with my assistant." She glanced at my superficial friends and brightened up. "Ah, welcome, bridal party."
Elyse squealed as she came rushing over to me to hand over the champagne. Stephanie was not far behind bearing an equally big cheesy grin on her face. Together they surrounded me as I stood up and hugged me.
"Oh my God, K, this is really happening," Stephanie gushed.
"Have you decided where you're honeymooning?" Elyse wanted to know next as she ran her fingers through my hair.
A honeymoon with Cain? Suddenly I felt like Persephone about to endure her winters with Hades.
I racked my brain for cliché honeymoon spots and came up empty. I hadn't given it much thought at all. "So much is going on, I can hardly focus as it is. Maybe Bali?"
Elyse's eyes enlarged as she gaped at Stephanie before turning to me. "Looove it. Take lots of pictures when you go." She nudged me on the sly. "And don't come back empty, either."
I almost threw up in my mouth.
"Bali sounds good," LeChé agreed as she came close to our group. She took a hold of my hand and did a onceover of my body. "You are going to be a beautiful bride, Kennedy."
With all eyes on me I did my best to fight my nausea. I was used to being the center of attention, now I felt like some type of public sacrifice.
LeChé clasped her hands together loudly. "Now, let's find your dream dress!"
"Yeah!" the girls cheered and my mother was nice enough to play the part and smile along.
Not me, though.
"Do you have a particular look you have in mind?" LeChé started out asking as she eyed her rack of dresses. "I'm happy to create anything you desire from scratch if you can't find anything here. Most modern brides tend to gravitate to the A-line or ball gown style, but everyone's different."
"It doesn't have to be this big production," I insisted. "In fact, anything that fits will do."
My mother gulped on her champagne as Elyse and Stephanie frowned.
I was breaking character, but this whole thing was depressing.
"Oh-kay, have you set a date. I think your mom mentioned December?" LeChé glanced to my mother, eager for her to join in on the conversation.
"December fourth," I said lazily as I stepped around the women and helped myself to examining the first rack of gowns.
"Ah, okay, any special meaning to that day?" LeChé asked.
I shrugged as I browsed a sequined strapless dress. "It's Jay-Z's birthday."
This trivial piece of information I only knew from being a Beyoncé fan and because Jadyn loved the Black Album.
Sensing I was being a bitch, I spun around and pasted on a convincing smile as I slipped into my role. "My fiancé is a big fan and he sorta reminds me of Jay in that old soul kind of way. I know it's corny and trite, but when he proposed to me he was so happy he sang a rather bad rendition of 'Love on Top,' and it just felt cosmic to pick the fourth for our December wedding."
My lie caused the awkwardness to cease as laughter filled the room at the idea of Cain Carter singing one of Beyoncé's most popular songs.
That was all that was needed to start the torture of finding "the dress." LeChé was gifted in the creative department, a true mastermind of designing dream gowns. I hated to waste my one opportunity to work with her on a fluke.
After trying on five dresses and earning approval on each one, I settled on a long-sleeved sequined sheath wedding gown. It wasn't my taste, but I didn't care to look beautiful on what would be the worst day of my life. I tried it on and of course the damn thing fit me like a glove.
"Oh, Kennedy." Despite the circumstances, my mother had bawled at the sight of me in the dress of my choosing. Stephanie and Elyse were quick to comfort her and agree that the dress was the one.
Even I couldn't make an ugly dress lose its splendor.
Go figure.
I hadn't seen my father in over a week and no amount of animosity could stop the fact that I missed him. After finalizing the dress and making plans for December, I got back with my mother and together we made a pitstop at the nearest McDonald's before coming back to the house.
At a time, I could just snuggle up with either parent and watch our beloved Coming to America and all would be right with the world. I told myself as I got out of the car and carried my bag from McDonald's with me that things would be better if I got lost in nostalgia with my father.
I was so caught up in my hopes that I missed the sign of Cain's presence until I spotted him coming down the steps as we entered the front door.
"Cain!" my mother greeted the man briefly before facing me. "I'll go check on your father."
Cain was caught up admiring an old family photo of my parents and me. I was a young girl, probably seven or eight, and together my family and I were in Canada as my father had been opening up another international hotel.
I set my McDonald's on the table near the steps and went over to Cain. "We went dress shopping today." I gathered my phone and brought up the picture my mother had taken of me in the dress and showed Cain my screen. "What do you think?"
Cain brought his attention from my younger self to the picture of me on my phone. He angled his head before bringing those dark eyes of his over to me. "Isn't it bad luck for the groom to see the bride in her wedding dress before the wedding?"
"Is it?" I played dumb. "Why don't we roll the dice and see?"
As if to call my bluff, Cain reached inside his suit jacket and procured those clear red dice.
I scoffed. "Those things are probably rigged."
Arching a brow, he handed them over. The brush of his skin against my palm sent a chill down my spine.
The dice were light in my hand, giving no tell if they were loaded or not. I didn't know much about gambling or dice, but I thought I knew rolling sevens and elevens were good.
I shook the dice in my hand, only to have Cain's hover over it.
I looked up to find him shaking his head. "Blow on them."
Opening my palm, I glanced at the dice. "You don't blow."
"I tend to have a stroke of luck without it," he said simply.
That sounded like bullshit. So, I ignored his suggestion and tossed the dice onto the table where I'd set my McDonald's bag. They tumbled and rolled until they landed.
One was a three, and the other was a two.
They weren't loaded.
Cain said nothing as he thumbed at his bottom lip.
I collected the dice and handed them back, playfully nudging him to get the resentment out. "Anyway, what did you look like as a kid?"
Cain tucked his dice away and took another glance at my younger image. "Scrawny."
"You'll have to show me some time," I said. I wondered if even younger him sported horns.
Cain studied me for a beat before going back into his jacket and coming up with his wallet.
"You carry an old photo in your wallet?" I teased.
"As I told you, a lot of my memories were lost along the way. What mattered I learned to keep close," Cain was saying as he opened up the black leather wallet. In it, were two photos, one he was pulling out, and the other he managed to quickly shield from me.
Cain held out an old picture of a much younger him sitting on a park bench with a basketball beneath his skinny legs. In the photo he was sitting next to who I was assuming was Beans. They were laughing, Cain had a little fro, bright eyes, and a big toothy smile.
"You kept that," I mumbled, unable to pretend I wasn't touched.
Cain nodded as he put the picture back. "I've never had anyone, outside of my mother. Forming that friendship with Beans was lifesaving in a way. I moved from home to home, sometimes too far from him, but I kept the picture so that I wouldn't forget what it was like to have a friend."
No, Cain wasn't so black and white, but gray.
"And what's the other picture?" I wondered.
Cain took a step back. "Nothing."
"Cain—"
"I can handle your jabs, but I won't have you talk about her," he warned with a firm shake of his head.
The other photo was of his mother.
I wasn't the nicest to Cain, but even I knew there was a line. "I'd never..."
A chime went off between us.
Cain pulled his phone out and placed it back into his pocket. He looked over at my McDonald's. "What's with the food?"
"It's, uh, a tradition. My dad and I eat McDonald's whenever we watch Coming to America. He gets a Big Mac meal and I eat fries with a Sprite. I haven't seen my father and I figured it'd be nice."
Cain reached out, his smooth hand caressing my cheek. "He'd like that, Kennedy." He ran his thumb across my skin momentarily before stepping around me and taking off for the door. "I have to go. I'm having a piano delivered to my place."
"You play?" My parents owned a piano in their living room, but it was more for show than actual use.
Cain shrugged indifferently. "Whenever I get in the mood."
He liked jazz and could play the piano. Somehow, it fit him.
It wasn't until he'd pulled the front door open that I realized something. "Where's Beans and Vino?"
To that, Cain offered me a small smile. "I like your father. I don't need to watch my back with him." He tipped his head towards me. "Enjoy your movie, Wife."
He was out the door and gone.
His guard was down. He trusted my father. He trusted my home. He trusted me.
Something like guilt had me swiping up my McDonald's and heading up the steps. If I didn't think about it, I wouldn't second-guess myself. If I didn't second-guess myself, I wouldn't allow myself to feel sorry for Cain.
The door was open and my mother was inside my father's room, adjusting his pillows and suppressing a smile down at him. His hand was on her hip and by the gleam in his eyes, I knew they were flirting.
Moments like this warmed me inside. To feel and see some sense of normal. To know that they could still be happy. That my father could still have this with the love of his life.
I cleared my throat, not wanting to let the food get any colder. "Don't mean to interrupt."
My mother leaned down and kissed my father, sweet and romantic, before rising and excusing herself out of the room. We used to watch the movie as a trio, but I'd been avoiding my father and this alone time was needed.
"McDonald's?" he appraised. "What's the occasion?"
I removed my shoes before I went and climbed onto the bed beside him. Testing his strength, I passed him the bag and sat cross-legged. "Haven't seen Coming to America in a while."
Today was a good day, as my father managed to fish out each drink and hand mine over before placing his on the nightstand beside his bed. He grabbed his Big Mac and smiled at the sight, knowing what this all meant.
I watched with blurry vision as he grabbed his remote to find the movie we both loved and brought us close.
Twenty years, let him be strong for twenty more years, I begged the universe. When his legs had gone weak on him, he'd all but given up on himself. Confining himself to this bed and refusing to be seen in public. There was nothing but excuses issued out whenever my mother and I made appearances at events and galas on why my father was missing in action. For so long, he'd been miserable, depressed over his plight.
Cain must've put a spell on my father, because he seemed the most jubilant I'd ever seen him since his diagnosis.
"So, what's the damage?" he asked as he took a bite out of his Big Mac.
I took a straw and stabbed it into my Sprite. "The dress? Not so much. I found one that was nice. It only cost you seven hundred dollars."
"I'm surprised you didn't break bank buying the most expensive dress you could find," my father joked.
"I'd rather wear a burlap sack than a pretty dress down the aisle to a man I don't love," I said bitterly.
My father lost his smile and I lost my appetite.
I forced a fry into my mouth anyway as he found the movie on a streaming service and put it on.
It was ironic how the movie I loved so much growing up now mirrored my life. It made our rewatch bittersweet.
When we got to the part where Akeem tried to beg his father to let him choose his own bride, I heaved a sigh. Even his father wasn't listening to a word he'd said.
"Neddy," my father began as he paused the movie. "I'm sorry."
I nodded quietly.
"Do you like Cain?" he asked me.
In the beginning, it was easy to hate the guy, he'd been nothing short of a monster. But the more I got to know him, the more it was easy to feel sorry for him instead. He'd gotten the short stick in life.
"Not like that, but he's not as bad as I thought," I said.
"I like him. He's a good kid, a hard worker, and most of all, he listens. A lot of these young brothers get a little money and don't wanna listen. But I can talk and break down the business and he'll listen and ask questions, take notes—study.
"James was a piece of shit for not being there for that boy, but in the end, Cain's more of a man without his influence." My father took a moment to gather his Coke and take a sip. His hand shook a little as he set it back down and he wrung his fingers. "I'm working him. Keeping him close, letting him know I respect his ideas and plans, and I'm working my way into convincing him to let this engagement go."
"Yeah?" I refused to get my hopes up. Cain was stubborn and set on having me as his bride.
My father nodded. "The Residence at Cartier should have nothing to do with you."
It shouldn't have, but it did. Forged on the birth of my impending marriage to Cain. If the money was enough, Cain would've never sought me out. Something told me it wouldn't be easy for my father or my mother to change his mind now.
And for that, I stuffed another fry into my mouth and looked back at the TV across the room.
We continued the movie, laughing at the antics of John Amos, singing along with all the passion to the Soul Glo commercials, and then when we got to the ending where Lisa and Akeem were waving to the crowd as they rode away after their wedding, I felt my heart break. Break at the fact that Akeem got his happy ending, but I never would.