A Lowcountry Bride by Preslaysa Williams

All Maya needed to do was finish packing and go over her father’s medications with him. Then she’d be ready to return to her normal life in New York.

Except she wasn’t ready. Not really.

Maya unzipped the bright turquoise shell suitcase and flipped it open. She’d already neatly folded her clothes into smart little squares, because that’s what a woman did to get her mind off a guy. It worked. She’d spent all morning preparing for her flight home.

She glanced at the bolts of fabric and dress supplies on her flowery quilt, and she shrank inside. Derek had gifted her those fabrics. He said they belonged to his mother and that he saw no use for them. Maya had tried to give them back after their last talk, but he refused.

Why’d Derek have to be so kind, even in their hard conversations?

No matter. She was packing and leaving the Lowcountry. Her dreams awaited. Maya reached for the first short pile of folded clothes and placed it in the corner of her suitcase. The top shirt popped out over the edges. “Sorry, clothes, but you’re not resisting me.” She shoved the shirt back into the suitcase.

Her bedroom door creaked on its hinges, and her father poked his head inside, all smiles. “I made lunch for you. Pancit and lumpia.”

He rarely made Filipino food. “Pancit and lumpia. What’s the occasion?”

“You.” He stepped inside and crossed his arms. “Having you here these last few months caused me to think a lot about your mother. That’s all.”

Maya stopped packing and smiled at him. She was gonna miss her father when she returned to New York. “That’s so sweet, Pops.”

He glanced at the fabric on her bed and then at her rolling suitcase. “You sure you’re gonna be able to fit everything into one piece of luggage?”

She really should’ve returned the fabrics to Derek. “Nope. I was planning on shipping them to my apartment.”

“Good call.” He nodded. “Come on out of your cave and grab a plate. This will be our last lunch together before you return to the Big Apple.” He left her room and she followed him down the dimly lit hallway.

“You make it sound so final. I’ll still visit sometimes. Well, I’ll be traveling for work, but we can videoconference and stuff.”

“Uh-huh,” he said, not sounding convinced.

She brushed aside his response. Maya would visit her father, just not any time soon.

“Don’t worry about visiting me, though. I’ll be plenty busy. Ginger and I are thinking of taking our first vacation together and living together as well.”

Maya stopped. “Really?”

He smiled. “Yes. I really like her.”

At least somebody was getting a happy ending. Hers was ending on a questionable note. “That’s great, Pops. I’m so thrilled about this news. I really am.”

“Thank you, my dear. That means a lot to me.”

They walked to the kitchen and she sat at the maple table. Her father had a steady girlfriend. That was cute, and she was truly happy for him. Truly.

He set out the bright yellow plates.

“Oh wait. I forgot.” Maya got up from the table, grabbed her purse from the living room, took out a folded piece of notepaper, and returned to the kitchen.

“What’s that, hon?”

“Your medication schedule, as well as some tips for making sure you get in enough exercise every day.” Maya waved the paper in the air. “I wanted to go over it with you before I leave.”

Her father gave her a get real look, but she shrugged it off. “Hey, last time you ignored my suggestions, you ended up with a fractured hip.”

“What suggestions?”

“To stop trying to fix everything yourself. Outsource.” She waved the paper in the air once again. “I wanted to discuss that too. I have a plan for you.”

Her father rolled his eyes. “You have a plan, eh? Don’t worry about me. I’m sure Ginger will help me with all of that. I want to hear about all of your plans. This is an exciting time for you. I know Derek must be thrilled as well.”

Derek. Derek! Why’d her father have to bring him up? Maya ran her index finger along the edge of the empty plate. “Uh-huh.”

“All you have to say is uh-huh? I know you mentioned that he’d be visiting you. When is he making his first trip to see you?”

A rush of heat came over her. The last thing she wanted to do was talk about when she would see Derek again. “That hasn’t been finalized yet.”

Her father squinted his eyes, and that’s when she knew he didn’t believe her. “Oh? Why is that?”

Maya glanced down at the paper that she’d wanted to go over with her father. This was a mess and a half. “Just reasons,” she said, her voice low and mumbly.

“Just reasons, huh?”

A silence ensued between them, and Maya drummed her fingers on the table. The ticking of the wall clock further punctuated the quiet. Better just say something, because he wasn’t going to let this go. “My new job is unpredictable and demanding. Lots of traveling. So Derek and I are playing things by ear.”

“Oh really?”

Maya exhaled deeply. “Really.”

More quiet, and then: “What happened, Maya? Did he do something terrible?”

“He didn’t do anything terrible. On the contrary, he suggested that I stay in Charleston and build my business here, especially since I gained all that publicity with Heather’s wedding.”

“That’s a great idea. Why not do that?”

“I really want to be Laura Whitcomb’s head designer.”

“I see.” Pops’s words sounded more like a question than a statement.

“It’s what I really want.”

“I know. You deserve it too.”

She nodded. “Derek said if I built my fashion brand in Charleston, then I wouldn’t have to worry about trying to make travel and a relationship work.” The more she spoke, and the more her father probed, the more she felt as if she were sinking into quicksand.

“Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted? To have your own fashion brand? I don’t see the problem.”

But Laura Whitcomb Inc. was everything. Ev-ery-thing! Could Maya’s start-up brand even compete? No. Better to stick with an established company.

“So what’s the problem, Maya?” her father said.

“I know what you said about living fully and all that, but my time is short. Building a new business takes time. I don’t have that time to give. There are limits.”

“It’s all about priorities.”

She squinted. “What do you mean?”

Her father paused. “You said your time is limited. So perhaps you should seriously consider where and how you spend it. Prioritize. If you went to New York, you could have that industry recognition, but you wouldn’t have the support you need. What do you value more?”

Of course Pops would ask her the hard questions. “I value both?” she said, a note of uncertainty in her voice.

“Be honest with yourself.”

Maya glanced down, not wanting to face the truth.

“You’re a grown woman, Maya. You make your own decisions, but if you stayed here, you could have both—career and love. You’ll also have people who care for you here. People who can help you if, God forbid, any health emergencies arose. But yes, having both is possible, my dear.”

The way he sounded so certain got under her skin. Career and love. Perhaps it was possible in some alternate reality for healthy people, but not for her. And not when she held her mother’s hopes within her like heavy weights. “I can’t stay here. Being head designer is everything to me. I already let Mama down once. Mama died thinking that I let her down. When I told her that I was taking my ex-fiancé’s advice and giving up on pursuing my career in New York, Mama warned me not to do it.” Maya choked back the urge to cry. “I ignored her, and I ended up getting my heart broken. Mama never lived to see me become head designer, but Mama wanted that for me. Now I have this second chance. The least I can do is take this position.”

“Oh, darling. When will you let these expectations go? They will bury you alive. Not sickle cell, but these expectations that you’re placing on yourself. Your mother would’ve wanted to see you happy. She would not have wanted to see you compromising your relationships to become a head dress designer. Besides, your mother never thought your ex was good enough for you anyway. She would’ve wanted to see you following your happiness. Your mother would want you to live for you.”

Live for me? Is that even possible?Maya didn’t have time to live for herself. She didn’t have time to follow happiness. “It’s my choice. It’s what I have to do.”

What I have to do.

Maya needed to prove herself to the mainstream fashion world. If she proved herself, then it would mean her work was legitimate.

Legitimate.

The word resonated and bounced inside Maya; it was burdensome. Why was this so complicated? Why did this feel so hard? Was this what living was all about? Who knew? She didn’t.

There was one thing Maya did know. Being head designer was more than a choice. It was what she had to do.