A Lowcountry Bride by Preslaysa Williams

Jamila left for the movies, and that left Derek to feel all of the feelings toward Maya.

He loved Maya. Derek knew that after one date, then two dates. He knew it after one kiss, then two kisses. He loved her. That knowing lingered even now. The feeling had been growing from the first day he’d met Maya.

That call from Laura Whitcomb filled him with joy. Seeing Maya succeed in her endeavors was beyond satisfying. Maya was finally getting the recognition she deserved, and it all began in this little bridal shop. Derek wanted to see her shine and succeed as a designer. They would make their relationship work too . . . somehow.

Somehow. Derek believed it would work. He was still willing to fly to New York regularly. That didn’t change.

Now would be a good time to tell Maya how he truly felt, to tell Maya that he was in love.

Yes. Derek would tell her. He’d do so as soon as she returned to the sales floor.

Maya returned, exuberance coloring her entire expression. “I have news,” she said. “Good news!”

Derek glanced down, pondering how to say the words.

“Is everything all right?” she asked.

“Everything is perfect.” He smiled. “So what’s your news?”

“Laura Whitcomb offered me the head designer position.” She rocked back and forth on her feet. “When I get home, I won’t have to be a junior designer anymore. Isn’t that great?”

Her talk of returning to New York sent a bittersweet feeling through his bones. Still, he was thrilled—thrilled enough to embrace her. “That’s excellent, Maya. I’m so proud of you.”

Maya glanced up at him, her eyes shining with hope. “I know! This is the best thing that ever happened to me. Mama would be so proud. I wish she were here to experience this moment too.”

“I’m sure she’s smiling down from heaven.” He brushed a curly tendril from her face. “But I don’t think it was Laura’s offer that would’ve made your mother proud. I think she was proud of you the moment you were born. You’re a gift to everyone you meet, including me.”

Maya bit her bottom lip.

“Are you all right? You look unhappy. Did something happen?” he asked.

She sighed and then released her embrace and took a step back. “I didn’t accept the offer yet.”

A tiny flame of concern lit within him, soon followed by confusion. “Why not? This is what you wanted all along.”

“Laura mentioned that the job would entail eighty percent travel, and I know you wanted to visit New York once a month. I was concerned that the new position would hinder our relationship and all, as well as my health.”

Something inside of him melted. Maya hadn’t accepted the position right away because she was concerned about them. How loving.

Loving. Love.

He loved her. He was definitely going to tell her. Maybe.

Should Derek tell her that he loved her? Professing love now would only make her more indecisive about taking the job. Derek would never do that to her. No need to tell Maya he was falling in love. She needed to make her decisions without any extra emotions involved.

“You can always tell Laura the truth about your health. She sees you as a valuable member of her company.”

A tiny frown formed at the corners of her mouth. “If I told her the truth, she would see me as a liability.”

“You’re not a liability.”

“Not to you, but I would be a liability to Laura. Then I’d be done and over with . . . old news . . . expendable.”

“You’re not expendable. No one can fulfill that head designer position like you can. No one else can bring your unique vision to the Laura Whitcomb brand. You have to recognize the value you bring to the table.”

She glanced down, uncertainty shrouding her face. “What do you think I should do?” she asked. “Should I accept the position or not?”

He paused. The last thing he wanted to do was tell her what to do. This was her life to live. “Do what makes you happy.” He cupped her face.

“Do what makes you whole.” He kissed her forehead.

“Do what gives you peace.” He gently kissed her lips.

Maya’s expression fell.

“What’s the matter?” he asked.

“Nothing . . . I just figured . . .” Maya shrugged. “Never mind.”

“We can make things work between us. I’m sure of it,” he said.

Silence. A silence that held a multitude of unspoken feelings.

“Whatever you choose, Maya, I’m here for you. Always.”

His heart pricked. There was a small chance this could push them apart, but he would stand by his word. The love he held for her would survive this dilemma.

Even though he could sense her resolve slipping away, he would hold on, for love.

“So what will you do?” Derek asked.

What would she do? Maya was hoping that Derek would help her iron that out. Instead, he was leaving it up to her. “I don’t know.”

He bit his bottom lip as if he wanted to say something more but was holding himself back.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing. I’m here. I’m listening.”

Okay, so he was listening. Guess she’d figure it out on her own. “Like I said earlier, I’ll be traveling a lot. That could hinder us. I don’t want to do that either.”

Derek pursed his lips, quiet.

“You’re not helping me by ‘just listening,’” she added.

“I’m letting you decide. I don’t want to stand in the way. I know you’ve wanted this for so long. I know this is a huge dream of yours.”

He was right. It was her dream and her mother’s dream too. This opportunity that her mother would never get to see. “So you’re okay with us not seeing each other once a month? It could turn into bimonthly or even quarterly visits. Who knows?”

Derek’s eyes flitted back and forth, apparently uncomfortable.

“What is it?” she asked.

“I have an idea. An alternative.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Oh really? What’s that?”

“You’ve built a lot of momentum here with your designs. You’re so incredibly talented, Maya. Why don’t you strike out on your own and start your own brand? Right here in Charleston. You can still work here too.”

Strike out on her own? Was he out of his mind? “That’ll be a lot of work for me.”

“You’ve been doing most of the work already anyway. It won’t be much different.”

He had a point, but this was Laura Whitcomb. The Laura Whitcomb. “I’m just a newbie designer with a little bit of buzz. I have nothing to stand on. Working with Laura as her head designer will give me the name recognition that I need.”

“But it won’t be your name. It’ll be hers. From the way you talk about Laura, she seems like the type of person who will want all the credit for your success. And all the profit.”

Maya twisted her mouth. Laura did mention that part about Maya’s designs being under the Laura Whitcomb brand, but . . .

“You don’t need Laura Whitcomb’s name recognition,” he added. “You can hold your own as a designer.”

Could she? “I don’t think I can.”

“I don’t understand your self-doubt. You’re an excellent designer. You can definitely strike out on your own, right here in Charleston. Then we won’t have to worry about travel schedules. You’ll have the best of both worlds. We’ll have each other.” Derek stepped closer, and she inhaled the scent of his cologne.

Having each other all the time would be nice. Very nice. She stood on her tiptoes and her lips met his.

Derek’s mouth parted and so did hers. They kissed. He wrapped his arms around her waist and she returned the gesture, her hand caressing his half-shaven cheek. He gently squeezed her palm, and Maya grew energized by the heat beneath his grip. She was going to miss this when she returned to New York. The smell of him. The taste of him. A longing arose inside of her. A longing to . . .

Worry tugged at her too, and she pulled away. “This is tough.”

“I know. Like I said, you’ve already made great ground here with your work. You can continue to build on it. We can continue to build on us. We can also build on our relationship if you choose New York. It may take some finagling, but it can be done.”

The warmth drained from her palms. Could it be done? They would barely see each other in person.

“I know your career is important to you. The offer from Laura Whitcomb is amazing. But remember that you were getting recognized for your hard work before Laura’s offer. Not only for your hard work, but you were getting recognized for simply being you, the unique you. Laura never cared until now.”

His words dug deep into the parts of her where even deeper insecurities resided. All her life she’d tried to get “acknowledged” by others, including people like Laura Whitcomb, a blond, blue-eyed woman who was already accepted by mainstream society. Laura held no childhood memories of receiving skeptical glances for being a brown-skinned child who called her Asian mother “Mama” in public. Laura would never have to explain to people that no, she wasn’t Black and White—she was Black and Asian, an altogether different identity and experience. But Maya craved that level of validation from a woman like Laura. Maya couldn’t let this opportunity go because it hurt to never, ever quite fit in anywhere. And now Maya was being accepted—by Laura.

Derek’s idea to stay here was a good one too, but what if it wasn’t the good enough one? Striking out on her own wouldn’t give her that industry acceptance she craved. Also, she would have to learn to believe in herself. That was even harder.

“Maya?”

Insecurity hovered like a two-ton boulder. She couldn’t speak.

“I wish you could see yourself like I see you.”

Maya glanced away.

“What we have will endure whatever choice you make,” he added.

Old desires mixed with the new ones, congealing into a thick, confusing mass. “Whatever choice I make?”

“Absolutely.” He nodded.

The shimmer of Laura’s name-brand recognition and the glitter of mainstream success dangled before her, all shiny and fresh and new. A craving arose within her. “I’ll accept the position in New York.”

Silence—the suffocating kind of silence that paralyzed—settled between them. Did she make the right choice? What if she didn’t?

“I support you,” Derek said. “I’m here for you.”

“Really?”

“Most definitely.” Derek’s eyes glistened.

His assuredness pressed on another facet of her heart, the facet she’d have to ignore if she was going to make all of this work. “Thank you for believing in me.”

“Thank you for believing in yourself.” He squeezed her hand gently. “You’ve come such a long way.”

“It was a hard road getting here,” Maya said, her voice a whisper. “It still feels hard.”

“I know it does. But you’re an ingenious talent. Even better, you’re a wonderful person,” he said.

Her dreams were coming true. Excitement filled her once again, but then something else came afterward, a twinge of sadness. Maya wanted to pull him into her arms and stay in his embrace forever, but she didn’t. Better to get used to the distance now. Maya was going to follow her heart, and a big part of her heart was in New York.

Yet the other part was now here, with Derek and Jamila. Maya ignored this other part.

“I have some paperwork to catch up on with the store . . . and I need to think,” Derek said. “But I’m so very proud of you.” With a light peck on Maya’s cheek, Derek left for his back office. The door opened and quietly closed.

This was a good decision, Maya. A really good decision. Right?

That sadness gathered strength and settled in the pit of her belly, but she resolved to build her new life around it. No matter what.

The following day was rainy and dreary. Derek had tossed and turned all night. By morning, he was exhausted. He couldn’t get that conversation with Maya out of his head.

At five o’clock, he got out of bed and headed to the kitchen, intent on getting Maya off his mind. After turning on the teakettle, he caught sight of a picture that he had taken with Maya at the photo booth from Heather’s wedding. He studied the two of them caught up in laughter and kisses. Unease settled within him. He was going to miss her.

The teakettle whistled, and he poured the steaming water into a pale yellow stoneware mug. A box of chamomile tea bags sat half-open near the bright red spoon rest. He took one bag and let his tea steep.

The back side of that picture stared at him, beckoning him to have another look.

“Not happening,” he muttered.

Reading would get his mind off Maya. He walked to the living room and quickly scanned the area for a book or something. He picked up a paperback that he’d checked out from the library a few weeks ago but hadn’t sat down to read. Upon glancing at the cover, he exhaled. The author’s first name was Maya. Maya Angelou. Lord. This whole plan to not think about Maya wasn’t working out too well.

He put the book down and sat at the desktop computer. He pulled up the website for the Post and Courier’s classified listings. Maya was leaving for New York, so he needed to place a job listing. Thanks to the trunk show and the publicity, he was caught up on the mortgage. He could easily afford to pay a new employee too. He needed to focus on moving forward.

Outside the window next to his tiny wooden desk, the raindrops made long streaks against the foggy glass, reminding him of tears. Derek blinked, blinked, blinked against the darkness threatening to rush his eyelids. He had to focus on finding a new replacement for Maya, not on this sadness at not seeing Maya as often as he’d like.

The Property for Sale ads popped up on his screen. Sketches of his conversation with Marlon from three months ago returned in snatches. All of Marlon’s talk about selling the boutique came to life.

He wouldn’t sell it. Maya enabled Always a Bride to have plenty of buzz, and he would have to build off that after Maya left. Plus, Jamila loved the boutique.

Derek took a breath and refocused on the screen. If he concentrated on getting a new hire, then perhaps the doubts would disappear. That was the plan anyway.

Seconds later, the soft shuffle of footsteps coming down the stairs broke his flow. Jamila was up. He craned his neck. Jamila’s arms were filled with books and papers and flyers and brochures, accompanied by a wide smile. At least someone was happy around here. “Morning, baby girl. Where’d you get all of that stuff?”

“From Ms. Reese, my English teacher. I told her that we were going to start visiting New York, and she ordered this free information from their tourism office. She even wrote a list of her favorite things to do in the city.” She unloaded the stuff onto the dented coffee table in the middle of the living room, and the items scattered in a haphazard collage. Derek squinted at them and softly winced—a map of New York City, a tourist’s guide to Manhattan, brochures on Broadway shows, and a handwritten list of things to do in the Big Apple covered the surface. This wasn’t good at all.

“Oh,” Derek said.

“I was thinking that for our first trip to see Maya we could go to the Statue of Liberty and see a Broadway musical.” She smiled brightly and played a song. “I heard that Hamilton is excellent. I was listening to the musical soundtrack on YouTube, and it’s amazing. You think we can do that?”

The hope in her voice crushed him. How would he explain this to Jamila? Not very well. That was for sure. “Um. We have to talk.” He closed the browser for the Post and Courier website.

“About what? You don’t want to see the Statue of Liberty? We can catch a ferry out there.” She opened a brochure and pointed to a paragraph printed in black. “It says here that they run every hour.”

How in the world was he going to break this to her? “After you left for the movies, Maya said she got a big promotion in New York.”

Jamila’s eyes widened. “A promotion? That’s great. She’s doing real good with her dress-design stuff. We’ll have to celebrate when we go there next month. Maybe go out for ice cream or something.”

Or something. That was the part he needed to discuss. Derek scratched his scalp and braced himself. “When I was talking with Maya yesterday, things didn’t go as planned.”

“What do you mean?”

“I know I told you that we’d be visiting Maya monthly, but we won’t be visiting as often.”

Disappointment flashed across her dark brown eyes. “What? Why? What happened?”

“Her new position means that we won’t be able to see her as much. She will be traveling a lot. Maya may be out of the country for months at a time.”

“Months at a time?” Jamila asked.

“Yes.” He paused. “We will try to make it work, but we won’t be there every month.”

This was the part where he explained everything very quickly so as to soften the blow.

Jamila’s eyes flitted back and forth, as if she was trying to make sense of all he said. “She doesn’t want to see me?”

The hurt in Jamila’s voice grabbed him by the wrists and squeezed. “No. No. No. That’s not it at all. Her job has extra responsibilities. That’s all.”

Jamila tilted her chin and appeared to focus on the papers on the coffee table. The soft lights shone on her intricate cornrows and freshly moisturized scalp. He’d made those cornrows himself, and for that, he was proud. Would Jamila retreat again? Would she retreat so much that things reverted to how they were just a few months ago? Never allowing him to comb her hair or be a father?

“I know this is a lot of news to digest, baby girl, but don’t think that she doesn’t want to see you. Her job will require more than she anticipated.”

“I don’t believe that. I think she doesn’t want to have anything to do with us, or else she would stay here. She wouldn’t let anything get in the way of hanging out with us . . . not even a fancy job in New York.”

Her words stung. When Derek offered another option to Maya, her first choice was the head designer position, not building a business here. Did Maya’s choice also reflect her feelings toward Derek? And by extension, her feelings toward Jamila?

Were he and Jamila second choice? The question stung.

Derek shook his head. “No. No. That’s not true. Maya has been working very hard to get this position. She cares about me and you. She helped you with the school project and everything. Why would you think she doesn’t want to have anything to do with us?”

“Maya only helped with the project because I’m your daughter. That would look really bad if she snubbed her boss’s daughter.” Jamila twisted the corner of her mouth and crossed her arms. “Ain’t it true?”

Derek tilted his head to the side. Jamila had a point. What employee would turn down the boss’s daughter, especially a girl as cute as Jamila? How did his daughter know so much about life?

His heart squeezed tight. Jamila had experienced way too much, enough to last two lifetimes. “I’m sorry, Jamila. I shouldn’t have . . .”

What? What shouldn’t he have done? Should he have never taken a risk by falling in love again?

Something still restrained him from voicing that truth, from saying that he no longer loved Maya, because love wasn’t something you could quickly delete or Wite-Out or erase. Love took time to build. It took time to nurture, and in the months of knowing Maya, Derek had found someone whom he’d thought he’d never find again. He found her.

Even with Maya’s illness, he still wanted Maya, but Maya chose New York first. Jamila’s doubts now made him doubt.

“They all leave. Don’t they, Dad?”

The soft sounds of the Hamilton soundtrack filled the silence between them. That, mixed with the sounds of raindrops pitter-pattering against the windows, was the worst.

“They all leave”? “Who?”

“Mom. Grandma. And now Maya. They all leave. It’s the truth. Don’t you agree?”

Did he? He didn’t want to reaffirm negative beliefs about people leaving Jamila’s life. Then again, the evidence spoke for itself.

A worry spread inside of him. Jamila’s statement settled deep and rooted in that well of emptiness that Derek had tried so hard to bury.

“Don’t they, Dad?” Jamila repeated a third time, glancing at him with expectant eyes, but it wasn’t the kind of expectation that filled him with hope. This was the expectation that came from living a lifetime of disappointments, except Jamila was too young for this. Twelve years old.

Did they all leave like Jamila said? No, they didn’t. Derek would have to show Jamila that not everyone left. How could he do that since Maya was leaving too? “Maya is pursuing a dream that she’s been working toward for a very long time. She deserves this new job. She’s not out of our lives for good. We will be together again.”

“When?”

When. That was the million-dollar question. Maya’s new job had an unpredictable schedule. “I don’t know.”

It hurt to say those words, but they were the truth.

Sadness colored Jamila’s face. Derek got up from his chair and sat next to her. The scent of Jamila’s shea butter hair cream soothed some of his sorrow. He wrapped his arms around her in an attempt to comfort, but who knew if it worked?

“We will see her again. I’m not leaving you, baby girl. That will never change. I guarantee it.”

A tear dropped down Jamila’s cheek and stained Derek’s creased khakis. “I’m gonna miss Maya when she leaves for New York.”

He swallowed the thickness gathering in his throat. “I’m going to miss her too.”

The joyful sounds of the Hamilton soundtrack strained through the music player.

Longing—a longing as deep as the Atlantic Ocean—reached inside of Derek and made its home in his heart. Derek cherished many things, but most of all he cherished the possibility of a new life with Maya, a life where they could count on seeing each other regularly even while she was in New York. Now that possibility would be radically adjusted. Now they would have to see each other sometimes—maybe.

Would this new plan work out? Things could change in an instant once again, and then their “sometimes, maybe” could turn into “never and no.”

He’d have to hold on to what he cherished, and so Derek made a wish to see Maya again soon. He put his wish into an imaginary glass bottle and tossed it out to the imaginary sea.

Perhaps Maya would stumble across the bottle and find her way back to him again.