Chapter 7.
Professor Moore's divorce was long and exhausting. Sharon was out for blood. The only way she wouldn't file a police report against me for the drugs was because they were Gemma's but even that had barely stopped her. Professor Moore had to let her keep the house. Gemma had moved out of the apartment leaving me alone with the lease and the full rent. She didn't tell me where she was moving to but I suspected that she was staying with Sharon. Since I now had an empty room available, Professor Moore moved in and we split the rent. I dropped Figure Drawing 101 with Professor Moore and took it over winter break with a different professor. We didn't want to take the chance of someone accusing him of special treatment toward me. Since I was no longer his student, he asked that I cease calling him professor, although I found it endearing.
With everything that had transpired, I had done a pretty good job at keeping it all private, but I couldn't hide the fact that Gemma had moved out from my mom. When my mom found out that Gemma had moved out and left me with the rent she was concerned. When I told her that I already had a new roommate and it was a man, she demanded to come check on me. Growing up, I had never known my father. He died when I was only two years old. I barely remembered him and ever since his death, my mother had raised me all by herself. Being a single mother had made her strong and very protective. It had always just been us so my mom and I were very close. So, when she told me that she would be coming over the following weekend, I was more than a little nervous. When I told Marquise, he seemed nervous too. He was recently divorced, old enough to be my father, and he was a professor at my school; most parents would see these as red flags. I saw it in his face that we were both thinking the same thing so I put on a reassuring smile and placed my hand on his.
"Don't worry, I'm sure my mom will love you," I told him, but I was trying to convince myself. My mom was an older woman and with this being said, she wasn’t that much older than Marquise. I would be graduating soon and I wanted both of them to be there supporting me so I needed this visit to go as well as it could.
As the time approached for my mom to arrive, butterflies filled my stomach and I just couldn't relax. Marquise and I tried to act normally but there was an air of apprehension hovering right above us. Marquise had made a home cooked meal to celebrate my mom’s arrival that had taken him all day to prepare. When she called to tell me that she was outside, my heart skipped a beat. I felt conflicting emotions. On the one hand, I had missed my mom and it had been difficult going through all this drama without being able to talk to her about any of it. On the other hand, I was afraid that she wouldn't approve of me and Marquise's relationship. I valued my mom’s opinion highly and it would be devastating if she told me that she didn't feel that Marquise was right for me.
I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans as I ran down the stairs to get her. When I opened the door, and saw her for the first time in months, a grin spread across my face and my eyes filled with joy.
"There's my pretty girl!" She greeted me with a grin just as big, her arms outstretched to embrace me. She hugged me long and tight. It felt good to be in my mom’s arms. I almost felt like a little girl again. I was a spitting image of my mom, just a younger version. I got my blonde hair and clear blue eyes from her, as well as my smile. My mom looked really good. She worked out and was really fit, so if she wanted to, she could probably beat Marquise up. She held me at arm’s length to get a good look at me, and then she noticed my promise ring. She pulled it up close to her face, staring at it.
"This is real!" She exclaimed. I blushed and smiled sheepishly.
"Yea," I said simply. She turned her intense stare on me.
"Who gave you this?" She asked me.
"My boyfriend," I answered. Her eyes widened and her brows rose.
"Boyfriend? You have a boyfriend and you didn't tell me? A boyfriend who can afford diamond rings at that! We have a lot of catching up to do! Where's your apartment?" She asked looking around.
"On the second floor," I told her as I led her upstairs. My stomach was doing flips as we approached my door. When I opened it, we were immediately confronted by the delicious aroma of dinner.
"Mmmm, it smells good in here," my mom said sounding pleasantly surprised as we walked in and I closed the door behind us. "Did you cook?" She asked me. Before I could answer, Marquise came walking out of the kitchen, removing an oven mitten from his hand.
"No, I did. I'm Marquise," he said with a smile as he held out his hand to my mom. My mom looked caught off guard as she stared at Marquise and shook his hand.
"Hello Marquise, I'm Monica, Dahlia's mom," she said politely. I had a smile plastered to my face as I watched helplessly from the side. "So, what did you cook?" She asked.
"Come find out, dinner is ready and will be served in the kitchen," Marquise announced as he turned around and walked back into the kitchen. My eyes were on my mother but she paid me no mind as she stood up and followed Marquise into the kitchen with me following her. My mom sat down at the table but I hesitated.
"I'll set the table," I said.
"No no no. Sit. This is my jurisdiction," Marquise said. I sat down beside my mom. I couldn't read her. I had no idea what she was thinking and that scared me. Marquise set the table and placed the food in the center. There was a carved turkey, baked macaroni and cheese, broccoli, and mashed potatoes. "Dig in!" Marquise declared. My mom began helping herself, then I made my plate and finally Marquise fixed himself a plate of food. For some reason, Marquise and I were waiting for my mom to eat before we started eating. She stabbed a piece of turkey, brought it to her lips, opened her mouth and closed it around the fork. She removed the fork and we watched her chew.
When she finished chewing, she swallowed and finally spoke.
"This is delicious!" She said. "I'm impressed! How did you make the turkey? I've never tasted a turkey this juicy!" Marquise looked pleased with himself.
"Thank you, thank you! I cooked it in a crock pot for twelve hours," he told her. At this, my mom looked genuinely impressed.
"And what was the occasion?" She asked.
"Your arrival of course!" He exclaimed. My mom laughed. I was grinning from ear to hear. We were off to a great start. Marquise's dinner was a success. But if I knew my mother, and I did, this was just the beginning. My mom was not easily distracted or impressed and I was sure there would be an interrogation. My mom took another bite of her food. Then washed it down with a glass of white wine.
"So, Marquise, what is your relationship to my daughter?" She asked. And it began.
"I'm her boyfriend," he answered. My mom watched him over her wine glass as she took another sip,
"You're a little old to be a Boyfriend, don't you think? And how old are you?" She asked. My face went hot as I blushed. My mom didn't hold any punches.
"I'm thirty-five," he answered. My mom’s eyes widened.
"Thirty-five. So, you're thirteen years older than my daughter. And what are your intentions?" She asked.
"I intend to marry her."
"Did you give her this ring?" She asked motioning at my hand.
"Yes."
"So why not an engagement ring instead if you intend to marry her?" She asked. I felt like I was watching a tennis match, I kept looking back and forth from Marquise to my mother.
"I didn't want to propose to your daughter before meeting you. Especially since I am sure that she would like you to be there for such an important moment," Marquise answered. I felt like he was handling himself quite well in front of my mother.
"Do you have kids? Have you ever been married before?"
"I do not have kids and I am divorced." My mom nodded and took another bite of her food. Marquise and I did the same.
"Well, I'm sure that Dahlia has already told you that her father is no longer with us. Dahlia is all I have and I am very protective of her. I need to be sure that she is in good hands at all times. Are you living here?" She asked.
"Yes I am."
"Do you work? What do you do?"
"Yes, I am a professor here at the university."
"Ah," my mom smiled and nodded. "So, that's how you two met! Do you usually date your students?"
"No, this was the first time," he assured her. There was an awkward silence. I stole a glance at my mom. She was finishing up the last of her food. When Marquise clapped his hands together, it made me jump.
"So, who's ready for dessert?" He asked enthusiastically. My mom looked up in surprise. I guess she hadn't been expecting dessert.
"Did you make it?" She asked him.
"Yes, I did," he answered as he cleared the table. He served us each a plate of sweet potato pie with whip cream. "The whip cream is also homemade." He sat back down. Again, we waited for my mom too take the first bite. When she began chewing she closed her eyes and moaned.
"This is delicious! Where'd you learn how to cook like this?" She asked.
"I was also raised in a single parent household and my mom taught me everything she knew," he said.
"So, mom, are you spending the night?" I asked her. This was the first time I'd spoken since we sat down. She shook her head and finished chewing.
"No, I was. But now that I've met Marquise, I feel reassured that you are well taken care of," she said with a smile. I was so relieved that I started crying. The tone was much lighter after dinner. Our bellies were full and our spirits were high. I was feeling good about my mom’s visit when I walked her to her car.
"So, what do you think of Marquise?" I asked her once we were alone.
"I like him. He's a little old, but your father was fifteen years older than me when we got married," she said with a smile. I smiled back.
"I'm glad because he loves me mom and I love him," I told her.
"Well he better because I love you and if he hurts you, I'll kill him." We laughed, hugged and kissed goodbye and then my mom watched me go inside before driving off. When I got inside, Marquise was washing the dishes. I walked up behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist, resting my head against his back.
"Thank you," I murmured.