Page 18 of Mahogany 1

With raised brows, I nodded. He was trying. Like me. We were trying. It would be a lie to say that he wasn’t. Maybe not in the same way that I tried, but to the capacity that he could. To the capacity that I allowed him to, at least. I noticed. The effort. And he noticed the draw back every time I did. I didn’t draw back because I wanted to. I drew back because well… regardless of how many times I said I forgave him, the ego kept score. So, it wasn’t me. It was it. The deepest part of me. Which was why we were here. To see if I could get ‘her’to forgive him too.

“Mr…. Mrs. Morris.”

I looked past Duke at the woman standing at an opened door. Nicole. I recognized her from the company’s website. Okay, Mrs.Nicole Mitchell! I sized her up, with a smile, very, very pleased at what I was greeted with. Her headshot was misleading. Her picture sat at the end, the only brown face in a sea of whites. Her headshot was a headshot. I was skeptical because she didn’t give power to the people. The last thing I needed was a valley girl, whitewashed therapist. To me that mattered. And she was plain. Hair slicked back, nice corporate smile, white button up top. The basics. Baby girl screamed ivy league, PWC. But because I was desperate, I scheduled an appointment with her anyway, hoping for the best.

But honey, today was proof that I had read her all wrong. She wasn’t just ‘African American’. She was bold, black and beautiful baby. Cornbread fed, Cartier glasses, silk press, brown liner, clear gloss black. Okay? Nothing like the headshot. No ma’am! Up close in person, she gave HBCU. Through in through.

That made me happy.

“That’s us,” Duke said with a smile, before leading me toward her.

We weren’t naturally this touchy. He’d never admit it, but I could tell he was very nervous about therapy too. Duke had a poker face and often hid his true feelings behind sweet gestures, obnoxious jokes, or my least favorite, lack of emotional availability. Today, he gave me sweet gestures and accountability. That washimtrying. Letting him hold my hand wasmetrying.

“Hi! I’m Nicole,” she greeted, extending her hand. “But please call me Nikki. Never call me Mrs. Mitchell. I want everyone to be comfortable.”

I shook hands with her. “Nice to finally meet you, Nikki.”

Duke nodded and shook her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Y’all didn’t check the refreshment room out? Really should have. Today we have Dutch Girl and?—

“Dutch Girl donuts?” I interrupted with raised brows. “Y’all got Dutch Girl donuts?Here? I know you lying to me!”

We were deep in the suburbs, in downtown Rochester, MI; nowhere near Detroit. Dutch Girl was nostalgic for me. Growing up, we got Dutch Girl Donuts every Sunday after church. I couldn’t remember the last time I had them. I was tempted to turn around to make a quick stop at the refreshment room.

She giggled. “Listen… I made them take that twenty-five-minute ride for those donuts, girl. Kept coming up in here with that sweet ol’ Krispy Kreme!”

I laughed. “I know that’s right. I sure wish I had stopped in.”

Had I known they had something worth eating in there, I definitely would have gone inside to at least curb my anxiety.

“Stop in on your way out; I’m sure they’re plenty left,” she said with a smile.

“If not, we can swing through the hood and grab some, Muffin,” Duke generously offered.

Muffin was a nickname I hadn’t heard inyears. He was putting on. I didn’t know why when the damn lady had our file for weeks and was very well aware of every foul thing he’d done to me to get us here. Instead of picking, I just smiled and said okay. Duke didn’t do that. He didn’t cater to my wants and needs like that. Not anymore, he didn’t. He’d probably DoorDash me some though just for them to be cold by time they made it to my doorstep.

Stepping into her office, my jaw dropped. Wow. Her space was massive—nearly the size of the lobby, if not bigger. I immediately began to take it in. She went with golds, nudes, and greens. Beautiful. I could hear her and Duke chattering, while I walked around, noticing things no one else would. Like the detail on the gold, barrette style, tiebacks she had attached to the drapes. As an interior decorator, intricate design, thought-out pieces, and color schemes fascinated me. When it cameto decorating, it was more than what met the eye. We looked at rooms, color schemes, fabrics, and patterns differently. Decorating was an art.

“Did you hear him, Mrs. Mills-Morris?” Nicole asked, pulling my attention from the drapes.

Letting it go, I turned to face her. “No, I didn’t. What did he say? And Mahogany is fine. We don’t like formalities neither.”

She nodded and gestured toward the couch where Duke had sat. Since being introduced to Nikki, it didn’t feel like we were about to start a therapy session. Felt like we were catching up with a distant cousin or some shit. Before, out there in that lobby, was a different story. Nicole had a very comforting aura.

Duke lightly laughed. “I asked if y’all went to college together or something. This feels like a set up.”

Here he goes. He was nervous for real; we were heading towards obnoxious jokes territory.

Drawing back with a light frown, I said, “What? Duke please.” I paused and waved him off. “Any way, you have a lovely office, Nikki.”

“Thank you!” She looked around and I watched as her eyes lit up. “I put a lot of thought into it.”

“See?” Duke said with a laugh. “Too much chemistry. Listen,” he paused and sat up a little for dramatics. “My wife isn’t normally like this. She’s more of a listener than a talker. Unless she’s at work, or she knows you.”

“I can assure you; Mahogany and I are not acquaintances. If we were, y’all wouldn’t be here,” she said with a smile and a hint of finality.

She was over the jokes, and accusations of a prior relationship and I appreciated that. I loved a bitch who could put a nigga in their place without having to do much. If we were outside of the office, I would have leaned forward, slapped hands with her and hit her with another ‘I know that’s right’.But… decorum. So, I sat down, crossed one leg over the other and simply fucking smiled. If anybody in the room got the hint, it was Duke’s ass because he was very, very familiar with my ‘checkmate’ move.

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