Page 162 of Curvy Girl Summer

“So I need you two to heal from Aniyah’s death.” I swallowed hard. “Because I’m working on my own healing with her death, too.”

Confusion flickered across their faces. “I thought you got over your issue with water,” Dad stated in a low tone.

I shook my head. “No, not that.”

My mom dabbed the corners of her eyes and then tearfully asked, “Is there something else going on?”

“I have a job I love, a life I love, and even still, I kept feeling like it was important for me to find the right man before today. Ever since Aniyah died, I’ve been feeling like I’ve had an expiration date on my head. For the last five years, I moved with the general thought that I had until thirty before it might be over for me, too,” I admitted. “I didn’t realize I felt that way until I was talking to someone about trauma and trauma responses.”

“You thought… You thought you were going to…” My mom mouthed the worddiebefore covering her mouth.

“I thought…” I let out a contemplative noise as I tried to sum it up for them. “It was more of a feeling than an expressed thought. It felt like I only had as much time as Aniyah, and I didn’t know what life looked like beyond thirty.” I looked between them andthen started from the beginning. “But I realized the big, expensive party, the search for the boyfriend, the mental countdown that was ticking was all because I tied thirty to Aniyah… and her death… and…” I closed my eyes for a moment so I didn’t cry. “My own death.”

“Oh, Aaliyah!” my mom cried.

“I woke up this morning ready to release all of that baggage I was carrying. So I’m letting you know that I’m not bringing a date with me to my party. I’m not interested in a setup. I just want to live my life. And when I meet the man I want to be with, I’ll let you know. Can you handle that?”

“We can handle that,” my dad said with a firm nod.

“We can,” my mom added quickly. “That’s fair.”

“And if Uncle Al—”

“I’ll take care of Uncle Al,” Dad replied. “Don’t you worry about that.”

I still planned on having my own conversation with him, but I appreciated the protectiveness.

I cleared my throat to keep my voice from breaking. “From now on, my life is about me.”

“Now these plates are hot,” the waitress said, placing the food on the table between us.

We ate breakfast rather quietly for the next few minutes. Although the conversation we had was heavy, it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. It was as if we were all just in a contemplative space. It wasn’t until the waitress came back with the coffee for my parents that our conversation resumed.

“You know this coffee is terrible,” Dad commented as he took another sip.

“No coffee will ever top the coffee we had in Colombia,” Mom reminisced. Turning to me, she said, “You have to make a trip to Colombia for the views and for the coffee.”

The rest of our breakfast resumed like any ordinary morning. When we finished eating, my father paid, and then we walked outside together.

Rubbing his belly, my dad yawned loudly. “Oh, man, I need to get a nap in so I can keep up with the young folks tonight.”

I pointed at him. “You need to just worry about keeping up with Mom.”

He laughed. “Shonuff.” Pulling me into a hug, he held me tighter and longer than usual. “I love you, Aaliyah. Happy birthday.”

“I love you, too, Dad. Thank you.” I gave him a squeeze back and then released my arms.

He was still holding on.

“Dad?” I whispered.

Clearing his throat, he took a step back and nodded. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“See you tonight.”

My mom was wiping her eyes when I looked at her.

“Don’t make me cry,” she stated, wagging her finger at me. “I’ll meet you at the salon. Make sure Kim knows I’m here.”

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