“Yeah!” the kids erupted in unison, and Morgan laughed. The parents of these children might have been snobs, but these souls around her were pure. “Okay, let’s do it. Hands in. On three, shout, ‘Dance your heart out!’”
All the kids put their hands on top of Morgan’s. Even little Yara and Messari. “One, two, three!”
“Dance your heart out!”
Morgan stood and held the twins’ hands as the three of them led the others out onto the stage. Her stomach plummeted when she saw the packed house. Every seat in the opera house was taken. Christiana had done the job of filling the seats, and Morgan was floored at the amount of support.
“Hi, everyone. I’m Morgan Atkins, and I have some little people who would really like to sing and dance for you,” she said. “Please put your hands together and welcome the very first MAM Academy dance recital.”
Morgan ushered the children into place and placed Yara right in the middle. She couldn’t hear the music, but she knew from experience that her baby girl could feel it. She would never exclude her.
“Eyes on me,” she said as she hustled off the stage and stood directly in front of it.
Pharrell Williams’s “Happy” played through the speakers, and the kids began dancing, singing, and most importantly, smiling. Baby Yara signed the words as the other kids danced around her. The crowd clapped along, and the sound of joyous laughter filled the theater as the children moved from that song to traditional Christmas songs. Morgan laughed and smiled the entire time. Pride swelled in her chest as she watched her twins. By the time the performance was over, the crowd was on their feet.
“Such a wonderful job!” Christiana was at her side before the kids were even off the stage. She ushered Morgan back up to the stage and took the microphone.
Morgan picked up her baby boy, and Bash pulled Yara from the stage. Morgan’s gut turned with guilt. She was truly a daddy’s girl, only Bash wasn’t her father. The shame of that would never ease, but her children needed a father, and Bash wanted to fill the role. They needed him. He had been in their lives since before they were born. He had rubbed her stomach and felt them kick. He was just as much a part of their lives as any father should be. Blood couldn’t make them any closer. She told herself that DNA didn’t matter. Ethic had raised her as his own, and they weren’t biologically connected. So it was okay for Bash to do the same, right? She forced herself to allow him free rein in his fatherhood role. Thoughts of what could have been haunted her. If she had just told their real father, Messiah Williams, the man she had pledged her soul to, that she was pregnant.
“We have already opened our hearts to these adorable faces. Now let’s open our wallets, ladies and gentlemen. Let’s make this a contributory and profitable night for Morgan’s cause. I’m going to bring my son up here to say a few words,” Christiana said. Bash’s long legs trotted up the steps, and Yara bounced gleefully in his arms, pulling a smile out of Morgan. His black suit fit his ball player’s frame well. The fabric wrapped perfectly over light skin, and the full, jet-black beard was an attempt to grunge up his look, but his kind eyes gave away his matching heart.
Bash took the microphone. “I’m extremely proud of you, Mo,” he said, gazing at her like she were a dream … one he didn’t want to awaken from. “And I love you. I love you and this family that we’re building. I love the woman you’re becoming. I just want to be a part of it … a part of you forever.”
Morgan’s heart plunged when she saw him lower to his knees. The crowd reacted in shock as he pulled out a black velvet box.
“Will you marry me?”
Tears filled her eyes as flashes of Messiah played in her mind. She covered her mouth with one hand, then pressed her forehead to her son’s.
“No cry, Mama. No cry,” he said, wiping her tears.
They appeared to be tears of joy. Women cried in this moment. They got emotional … it was normal. Only for Morgan, it wasn’t. Morgan was crying tears of grief over the love she had lost, over promises she had made him. She had vowed to never take another man’s last name … and then he had lied, and she had moved on, and then he had died, and although she was still walking and breathing, on the inside, she had died too. Bash was proposing to a ghost, to a shell of the person she used to be. She was rotten on the inside.
With hundreds of pairs of eyes on her, the most important pairs of eyes in all of London, people who had accepted her, people who had offered opportunities over the past two years, who had helped her acclimate to living abroad, who had offered resources and internships and job offers after she graduated … they all awaited her answer. She couldn’t say no, but she couldn’t say yes. Uttering the words from her lips would cause Messiah to rise from the dead just to kill Bash. Her chest was so tight that Morgan felt like she was having a heart attack. She nodded, and the worry on Bash’s face dissipated, giving way to a gracious smile as he dropped his head and shook it in disbelief. He slid the ring on her finger, and it felt like it weighed a hundred pounds. It felt like a chain, like a noose. It was around her finger … why did it feel like it was choking her? Why couldn’t she breathe? He stood and rushed her, kissing her lips. Cameras flashed. They looked like a beautiful family, the four of them, onstage, preparing to start their lives together, but Morgan was filled with dread. Christiana relieved her of Messari, and Bash headed off the stage with Yara while Morgan took the microphone. She turned to the crowd, and she froze when she saw Aria standing at the back of the room with Isa at her side. Aria waved, and Morgan blew a kiss in return before wiping the tears from her face.
“Wow. That was unexpected,” she said with a chuckle as the crowd joined in light laughter. “Thank you, everyone, for coming. I’ll see you all at the reception. I can answer any questions you have at that time. Donations can be made there as well. Can we have one more round of applause for those beautiful babies? They’re so brave. They really did a great job!”
The crowd clapped on cue, and Morgan walked off the stage, hurrying to meet Aria halfway down the aisle.
She threw her arms around her friend.
“He completely blindsided me,” she whispered. “I’m falling apart.”
“Okay,” Aria said. “Not here, Mo. Hold on.” Aria turned to Isa. “We’re going to the ladies’ room. I’ll be right back.”
Morgan rushed behind Aria, and when they were inside the restroom, Mo erupted. “Why would he do that? In front of all these people?”
“Bitch, first let me see the ring,” Aria said.
Morgan hadn’t even glanced at it, but the reminder caused her to hold out dainty fingers with the short manicure because Christiana insisted that it was proper length, and she gasped.
“Oh, he love you, love you!” Aria exclaimed. “Morgan, it’s beautiful!”
“Who cares?” Morgan shouted, covering her face with her hands. She felt her eyes burning. They prickled as tears overwhelmed her.
“Morgan, it’s okay to be with him. You can’t keep promises to a ghost,” Aria whispered, frowning in sympathy.
“I didn’t even get to say goodbye to him. I had so many questions. I was so fucking angry at him when he died. How could he die and leave this on me? I loved him, Aria, and I promised him.”
“Morgan, I know you don’t want to hear this, but you’ll probably never love anyone the way you loved Messiah. He was your first love, and you two were so passionate. It was obsessive. It was almost dangerous. The way you loved one another … people don’t love like that. I’ve never seen anything that intense, Mo. Nobody is going to make you feel that again. Be grateful that you felt it once in a lifetime, but don’t stop yourself from being happy by trying to measure everything up to that feeling Messiah gave you. Bash has elevated you. Look at you. You’re hosting a charity event in London. They’ve given you opportunity, they’re loving on the twins … he’s a good guy. A little corny, but corny is good. Corny is safe. Corny…”
“Is boring,” Morgan finished.
“He really loves you
, Mo. I’m not saying marry him. I wouldn’t push you toward that if it’s not what you want, but I’m just saying ask yourself why you don’t want to,” Aria said.
Morgan pulled in a deep breath and nodded. “What would I do without you?”
Aria held up her hands and shrugged, then threw her arms around Mo.
“Oh, I missed you,” Morgan groaned. “How are you here right now anyway? And with Isa?”
“And Meek,” Aria added. “We wanted to surprise you.”
Morgan twisted her lips in disbelief.
“Okay, Isa’s been pushing up on it, and I told him he needed to make a grand gesture. Bringing me to you was his grand gesture. A good one too, but he’s still getting no play.”
“Poor Isa. Still chasing it.” Morgan snickered. “And Meek’s here too?”
“You know Isa wasn’t coming over here alone. He said he didn’t want to listen to us girl talk for two days, so Meek had to come. Besides, your friends should be here for you. This is kind of a big deal,” she said.
“Yeah, I guess,” Morgan said with a shrug. “So, you and Isa?”
“Me and Isa nothing. Don’t start. Nobody’s checking for that boy. He’s such a hoe. Bitches been blowing him up all day. My vagina will not be participating in any parts of Isa,” Aria said.
Mo laughed and moved to the sink to fix her face before following Aria out.
“I swear you two are the only mu’fuckas on the planet that could have me waiting outside a fucking bathroom for twenty minutes,” Isa griped when they emerged.
Morgan laughed and ran into his arms.
“What’s good, sis?”
“Hey, Isa,” she said, burying herself in his lanky frame. “It’s really good to see you.”
“You too, Mo,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “You look real official out here. They treating you right all the way over here? Cuz I can break a nigga jaw real quick if you got any issues.”
“No jaw breaking required,” Morgan said, eyes beaming, joy filling her heart because his aggression was refreshing … it was her preference … that type of ride-or-die energy had been lacking from her life for years. “I’m fine.”
“You good, G?”
Morgan followed Isa’s eyes behind her, and her stomach hollowed. Ahmeek walked out of the men’s restroom, wiping his suit down in irritation. He was walking perfection, he always had been, but the past two years had done him well. He was a walking god in a black suit.
“Yeah, I’m good, bro. Fucking kids spilled cranberry juice all on my shit,” he fussed. His brow pinched, causing wrinkles of disdain to fill his forehead, but when he lifted eyes to Mo, his brows lifted, stunned.
“Hi, Ahmeek,” she said with a broad smile.
“If the goal was to stop niggas’ hearts, Mo, goal fucking accomplished,” Meek complimented, placing a hand to the left side of his chest, squinting with a smile.
Morgan shook her head, then looked at her feet, feeling her face flush red. “Thanks, Ahmeek. Come on. I can put you at a table in the back,” Morgan said, leading the way to the reception.
She entered the room, and Bash’s eyes gravitated to her. He was holding Messari and conversing with a group of people, but he stopped midsentence and excused himself as his eyes met Mo’s.
He joined her. “Bash, you already know Aria. This is Isa and Ahmeek,” Morgan said, introducing them.
Bash kissed Aria’s cheek and extended a firm handshake to Isa. Isa let the hand linger and marked Bash with malicious eyes.
“Real smooth, man,” Bash said, scoffing before moving on to Meek.
Morgan’s brow crinkled as she stared at Meek. “Please, be nice.” She mouthed the words, and after an awkward beat, Meek pulled a hand from his pants pocket to shake Bash’s hand.
“Thank you,” she mouthed.
She pulled Messari from Bash’s arms.
“Hiiii, Messari,” Aria cooed as she confiscated the toddler. “I missed your face!”
“Messari…,” Meek’s voice held no accusations, but Morgan felt his stare penetrating her. She tightened her stomach to calm the queasiness building inside before rolling confident eyes up to him. It was both Meek’s and Isa’s first time seeing her twins. They both were staring at her like she was a target and they had hair triggers ready to fire.
“Yes, Messari and Yara. Bash, can you get Yara so they can meet her?”
“Yeah, of course,” Bash said before kissing the side of her head and walking off.
“He doesn’t know that I named our son after Messiah. Please don’t make a big deal,” she said.
“Say less,” Isa stated. He was easy to appease, but she could feel Meek burning a hole through her.
Yara came running across the dance floor and clung to Morgan’s leg. Morgan picked her up.
“This is Yara Rae Atkins,” she said, picking up her daughter.
“They’re beautiful, Mo,” Meek finally said, and she sighed in relief.
“Mo, he feels kind of warm,” Aria said.
Morgan instantly brought the back of her hand to Messari’s forehead. Bash rejoined her.
“Is everything okay?” he asked.
“I think he’s running a temp,” Morgan said.
Bash took Messari and held his face to Messari’s cheek. “I think you might be right.”
“I have to get him home,” Morgan said.
“You can’t leave, Mo. This is your event. You worked hard to bring this together. Your friends are here all the way from Michigan. I’ll get the twins home. I have the pediatrician on speed dial. He’ll make a house call. I’m sure Messari can wait until morning to go in, but to ease your mind, I’ll have the doc meet me at home. You do your thing.”
“No. I need to go with him,” Morgan protested.
“Baby, just stay. If you leave, all these people leave, and all the energy you put into this is for nothing. I’ll call as soon as I have news.”
Morgan nodded reluctantly, but tension formed a knot in her stomach so tight that she placed hands on top of it to try to calm her fears. Morgan had always been a selfish type of girl. Everything had always revolved around her. Not until she became a mother did she truly invest into someone else. Their needs, their wants, their everything trumped her. She was ready to say fuck this entire charity to be there for her baby.
“Hey,” Meek said, jarring her attention. “He’s probably just teething. Babies run fevers when their teeth are coming in.”
“Nigga, how you know?” Isa piped up.
Morgan chuckled, and it relieved a bit of her anxiety. The laugh. Meek’s logic. They were both needed.
“They do, you’re right,” Morgan said, nodding. “Let me at least carry him to the car,” she said, eyes misting.
“Here, let me,” Meek stated, taking Yara from Bash without permission and then walking side by side with Mo toward the exit. Bash trailed behind them, already placing the phone call to the doctor.
“Damn, Mo, you’re really somebody’s mama,” he said in amazement.
Mo smiled, rubbing the top of Messari’s head. “I am.”
“It suits you,” he stated. “Parenthood.”
Morgan nodded toward Yara, who was resting comfortably in his arms, head positioned in the middle of Meek’s chest. “You’re not so bad at it yourself. Let me find out you got a baby mama tucked out here somewhere.” She smirked.
“Nah, I ain’t got that,” he returned. “I wouldn’t mind one of these, though … one day.”
“You’d have to settle down for that to happen, Meek,” Mo said.
“I’d settle down. Not for just anybody, but if I caught a real one, I’d be with the shits.”
Morgan rolled her eyes and kissed the top of Messari’s head.
Meek laughed as they reached the valet.
Bash came up behind them.
“The doctor will be there when we arrive,” he informed her. He walked over to the valet attendant and handed the young man the ticket. The car was retrieved in minute
s, and Morgan tucked her son into his car seat.
“Be good for Papa, okay?”
Messari’s wet kisses made Meek frown, but to Morgan, they were golden.
“That’s a part of the job, huh? The drool?” he asked.
Morgan nodded. “The very best part.” She took Yara from him and strapped her in before turning to Bash.
“I’ll be home as soon as I’m done here,” she promised.
“We’ll be fine,” he assured. “Take your time and enjoy the spotlight, Mo. You earned it. Just take one of the black cars back. A driver has already been instructed to wait for you.”
She nodded and watched as he hopped into the Range Rover, then drove away.
She turned back to Meek, who extended his elbow to her.
“See, a nigga know how to boss his shit up for the right one,” he said.
Morgan smiled—genuinely smiled—and it had been so long since she’d done so that it felt foreign.
“Don’t leave me hanging, Mo. You got me out here on some suit-and-tie shit. The least you can do is take a nigga arm and pretend like you believe I’m good enough to be in your world,” he said.
Morgan placed a hand to his elbow and leaned her head against his shoulder. “You’re good enough, Ahmeek,” she whispered.
Morgan worked the room with Meek at her side, and it felt good. It felt familiar, like she could compete in this circle, like she could handle anyone approaching her because she had backup … she had a goon on her team. He made her feel secure, protected, and by the end of the night, Morgan had raised over a quarter million dollars in donations.
“You should be proud of yourself. This is dope. Two years feels like forever ago. You’re the same, but you’re different too. You were a girl back then. You’re a grown woman now, a fucking mother. Shit’s crazy,” he said, sitting sideways in his chair and leaning onto his elbows while looking up at her over his tense brow.
“I’m glad you came, Meek. Thank you for coming all this way. I haven’t felt like myself in a long time. You reminded me of who I become when I feel confident.” She paused. “You made me feel strong tonight.”
“You’re strong as shit, Mo,” Meek stated. “Stronger than anybody I know. After what you’ve been through. Your whole life has been hard, and this is where you end up? That’s strength. I’m proud of you.”
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