“I remember, years ago, reading an article with Brian McKnight and his wife…could’ve been Ebony…Essence...JET—I don’t recall…and she said something along the lines of her not believing their marriage would survive if he did not travel as often as he did while working.” My eyes traveled to find his. “They're now divorced, so how on par was she with their need for space?” I asked rhetorically. Melodramatic—but transparent of my heart, thanks to liquid courage.
He shifted in his seat. “I don’t think spending time apart preserves a relationship. At best it gives time to reflect and evaluate it, but it certainly doesn’t help to edify it.”
Is he saying that he didn’t like being away from me like this? I had suddenly become so confused.
“How long will this last...you know the traveling?”
“I'm not sure. It’s a part of the business. Is it becoming a problem for you, Brimm? Please be honest and tell me,” he implored.
I didn’t know how to respond to that. Heck, no, I didn’t like the separation periods, but there was no way I’d come in between him and his business. I wasn’t worthy of that; no one was.
“I'm fine, Azmir. How were the scallops? They looked as tasty as I am,” I quipped trying to change the subject. The waiter was removing our plates.
It earned me a slow chuckle from him.
“Not quite as, but they were good. How was your eggplant?” he gave a bashful smirk. He wasn’t expecting my jest.
“Really good.”
The waiter asked if we wanted to see the dessert menu. I declined not wanting to take up too much of Azmir’s time. I knew he had a plane to catch that evening, besides I felt I’d overdone it with my main entrée and didn't want to tip the scale later on. To my surprise, Azmir asked to see it and ordered sorbet.
“Thanks for relieving me of my Sunday meal responsibilities.” My forehead wrinkled as I was, that quickly, hit with revelation. Clearly, wine didn’t slow my brain. “You know, I don't think you’ve taken me to a bad restaurant yet.”
He smiled. “And I don't endeavor to. Tell me, what are your plans for the week?”
I took a sip of my wine before answering, “The usual: counseling, dance, and church. Oh, and awaiting your return on Thursday,” I flirted with a salacious narrowing of the eyes a slow licking of my top lip.
“Good. As you should,” he smirked in a way that I didn't think I’d seen him do before. “My mother is flying into town next week.”
“Oh, yeah? Where to?”
“I've arranged for her to stay at a hotel for a little while until she gets a lay of the land.”
This was news to me. I recalled offering my place for her to stay indefinitely.
“Isn't a hotel a bit impersonal? I mean, you just said you don't know how long she’ll be out here.”
He raised his head and put down his napkin. I had hope I didn’t offend him and didn't mean to intrude, but I knew this town could be a lot to take in.
“I mean, what are you going to do about her transportation? Is she coming alone? How will she get around or know where to go? With your schedule, you’re unlikely to be around for assistance.”
With narrowed brows he muttered, “I didn't think about all of that. The hotel plan wasn't permanent, but I figured that was the only way to start. I could take her around to my vacant properties to see if she likes one of them but she’d need time to consider it and get to know the town. I hadn’t thought about transportation. I could arrange for car service,” he sounded doubtful.
“Azmir, car service may be a means to getting her around, but it won't resolve the issue of knowing where to go. It’s not a personal touch. Why didn’t you think to have her stay with us? Heaven knows there’s plenty of room.”
He steeled in place, looking me square in the eyes, “Our bubble.”
I understood immediately what he meant. We had no visitors until this week, not even Petey had come through, at least since I’d been there. However, this was a special circumstance, it was his mother.
“I think that could be breached...temporarily. Just until she gets settled. Or you can consider my original offer and let her stay and my place. She can stay as long as she likes.”