Page 39 of Until the Ink Dries

“Are you enjoying the time with your family?”

“Yes.”

“How are your parents?”

“They’re fine, too.”

“You don’t have to be short with me, Willow.”

“I told you not to call me. You could have avoided me being short or anything else.”

He sighed. “I missed your voice. It’s not the same without you, baby. I’m trying hard to give you the space you asked for, but it’s a struggle for me, Willow. You think I would have asked you to marry me if I didn’t love you?”

“I know you love me, Ellis. It’s the version of me that you love that causes the problem. I don’t feel like I can be anything less than perfect with you and your family. I’mnota perfect person. I have flaws and I make mistakes just like everybody else. Sometimes, I don’t want to be prim and proper. Sometimes, I want to look busted and be comfortable in a stained shirt, sweatpants, and fuzzy slippers with a bonnet on my head.”

“I think you’re beautiful no matter what?—”

“That’s not the point. Your actions say otherwise. The things you allow to be said to me say otherwise. You don’t demand my respect, and you disrespect me by letting other people disrespect me. That includes your mother.”

I sighed heavily. I really wasn’t in the mood to hash this same conversation out with him again. Messing around with this man was going to put me in a bad mood, and I didn’t want to be in a positive setting with negative feelings.

“Look, Ellis. I have to go. I have somewhere to be. Do not call me again.”

I hung up, and this time I blocked him. I wasn’t going to spend my vacation going back and forth with a man I left for a reason. Shaking the thoughts from my head, I went into my closet to find something to wear. I’d originally packed enough clothes to stay about three weeks, but I was considering extending my stay. I’d purchased a one-way ticket, so it was up in the air. The more I was here, the more I was beginning to feel like the old Willow and I desperately needed to meet her again.

Finally, after sifting through my clothes, I settled on a white tube top that showed off a sliver of my stomach, a dark denim skirt that stopped mid-thigh, and a fresh pair of J’s. I pulled my silk press into a sleek top knot and added gold jewelry to accessorize. Hoop earrings and stacker necklaces, along with matching bracelets and a watch, completed the look. After a light beat of makeup that included my skin tint, mascara, and a little lip gloss, I looked myself over in the mirror.

It was giving 90’s fine, and I loved it.

After putting my essentials in my designer fanny, I secured it around my waist and headed downstairs. My parents were in the kitchen with my mother sipping her coffee while doing a crossword puzzle and my father reading the paper. I smiled at how they enjoyed the simple things and were still so content.

“Hey, parents,” I said, moving to hug and kiss them both.

“Hey, baby.”

“Hey, princess.”

My mother looked me up and down. “Don’t you look cute! What are you and Shirah getting into today?”

“The Black Thorns are having a block party fundraiser, so we’re going to support.”

“That’s nice. They always do things like this. Your father and I participate sometimes. It’s good to see young men doing something positive in the community.”

I nodded in agreement. “It is.”

My father looked up from his paper. “I’m sure you’ll see that young man, since he’s a part of it.”

“Daddy.”

He chuckled. “I’m just saying. I knew his face looked familiar. I didn’t put it together until you mentioned the motorcycle club.”

“You don’t have anything to say about that?” I asked, grabbing a bagel from the pastry display on the counter.

“Nothing besides wear a helmet if you get on one of those things… just not in that skirt.”

I looked down at my skirt. “What’s wrong with my skirt?”

“Nothing. I just remembered your mother in a skirt on the back of my motorcycle during our FreaknikNik days. I had to fight that night.”

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