There was so much food—from jollof rice to dishes of red red, to boiled plantains resting next to pots of palava sauce, a West African stew made of spinach, pumpkin seeds, and meat. But Abena couldn’t muster enough of an appetite to eat a single bite of any of the choices. She nervously rearranged plastic plates and cups on the six-foot long table in her aunt and uncle’s backyard.

Her mother, Effia, was in the country, having arrived only a few days ago. It was her first visit to the United States, so Abena took the week off to spend time with her and take her around to explore the city. There was also the matter of getting her blessing to marry Santiago.

She twisted the diamond ring on her finger and cast a nervous glance at the closed French doors leading into the house. Her aunt Baaba, her uncle, her mother, and Santiago were all in the living room talking. Although Baaba served as a translator, Santiago had learned words and phrases in Twi to speak a few words to Effia.

Gentle fingers squeezed her arm. Holding her little boy against her chest, Nana stood beside Abena. “Relax. She’s going to give her blessing.”

Abena sighed. Getting her mother’s blessing was all Santiago’s idea, and though she appreciated the sentiment behind his desire, the meeting made her nervous. She worried her mother would not approve, and then she couldn’t marry him with a clear conscience. She would have preferred if they’d never broached the topic of approval or disapproval. Her fault for loving a man who insisted on succeeding in everything he set out to do. Today’s goal was to win over her mother.

It was only fair. Over the past sixteen months, Abena had become close to his sister, Susanna, who’d received her medical transcription certificate a few months ago. In addition, she met two of his sisters the last time she and Santiago visited Argentina. Over dinner, one of them told Santiago that Romina and his father had married. He shook his head in disgust and then changed the subject. Abena communicated with the other two sisters by phone.

All five planned to attend the weddings. Like other Ghanaian transplants, Abena would have two ceremonies—Western and traditional. Only two more months, and she and Santiago would become husband and wife.

“Here they come,” Nana said. She gave Abena’s arm another reassuring squeeze before walking away.

Baaba and her husband ambled out first, each sending smiles in Abena’s direction. Santiago followed close behind. Their gazes locked together, and she approached him right away.

“Well?” She searched his face for clues of the result of the meeting.

He squeezed her hand in his and appeared unconcerned, but still…

“Talk to your mother.”

He strolled across the lawn to where his sister sat on a bench, keeping an eye on her three-year-old and Nana’s youngest daughter playing on the grass with their dolls. Santiago sat down beside Susanna.

Effia came out of the house in a colorful skirt and top set with matching head wrap. Abena swallowed and lifted the corners of her mouth into what she hoped displayed a genuine expression of happiness. In truth, her stomach was doing all kinds of nervous somersaults.

Effia extended her hand, and Abena crossed the short distance to her and took it. Effia examined her features as if seeing her daughter for the first time. “Every time I see you, I think of how blessed I am to have such a gift.” She paused. “He is not what I expected or wanted for you originally,” she said honestly. Her gaze drifted over Abena’s shoulder, to where Santiago and his sister sat, and the corners of her lips hinted at a coming smile. “I know you think I worry too much, but that is what a mother does. One day you’ll understand.” She paused again, and this time the full smile arrived and her eyes softened.

Right then, Abena knew all was well. Her heart took flight in her chest, and tears crept to the corners of her eyes.

“He’s a good man,” Effia said. “He understands how precious you are, and how lucky he is to have you. You have my blessing.”

The heavy cloak of worry lifted from her shoulders, and Abena drew in a relieved breath.

“Thank you.” They hugged, and Abena melted into her mother’s warm embrace.

---

More friends arrived for the annual March celebration of Ghana’s independence. The backyard now held an attendance of about four dozen people, drifting in and out of the house, as some wanted to watch the independence-day celebrations via satellite on the TV in the living room.

Kwei chased Susanna’s oldest daughter, Cissy, around the yard. The three-year-old screamed at the top of her lungs, laughing as she ran as fast as she could, and Kwei pretended to have a hard time catching her.

“She has quite a pair of lungs, doesn’t she?” Santiago said, beside Abena on the bench.

Abena giggled. “Yes, she does.” She rocked Nana’s youngest against her chest. The little boy had exhausted himself trying to keep up with the older kids. Abena knew, however, after he recharged, he’d be back at it again with plenty of energy. “So, what do you think? Still only two kids for us?”

“I think so. One boy and one girl, hopefully.”

“If not, we keep trying until we get one of each.” Her little cousin shifted in her arms and she cuddled him closer.

“Deal.”

Santiago put his arm around her shoulders and squeezed her closer. “I love you, Mrs. Vila.”

“I’m not Mrs. Vila yet,” Abena admonished.

“Soon enough.”

A big grin spread across her face. She could think of very few times in the past sixteen months when she stopped smiling. “Me dor wo, Mr. Vila.”

Santiago placed a kiss to her neck, behind her ear. It was soft and affectionate, but nonetheless made her skin tingle.

His face sobered. “Thank you, for giving me everything I need. I want to do the same for you, and more.”

She melted at the sincerity in his eyes.

Abena brushed a hand over his hair-roughened jaw. Leaning in, she planted an equally soft and affectionate kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“You already have,” she whispered.

---