Page 89 of Taming a Menace
I took my time making sure to shower the sand and grit off me. Above the seagulls and sharks, the sand was the thing I hated most about the beach. As much as I hated getting sand in places that sand had no business going, I enjoyed being on the beach with Iyla. I would probably never tell her that I hated the beach. I would tough it out a hundred more times just to see her play and enjoy life as if she didn’t have a care in the world.
When I stepped out of the shower, I grabbed a towel from the bar behind the toilet and dried my body before wrapping it around my bottom half. I walked over to the sink and brushedmy teeth before going back into the bedroom. I frowned when I realized that my uniform wasn’t on the bed. I knew I’d laid it out before I went into the shower. Just in case I was losing my mind, I opened my suitcase. I left my bag open and walked out of the room to see if Iyla had moved it.
My shoulders dropped when I spotted her. Her back was turned to me, and she was doing a little dance swaying her hips as she worked. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the sight of my baby dancing and ironing my clothes. She was adorable and sexy all rolled into one dressed in a flowy light blue dress.
My feet started moving. They were on a never-ending quest to keep me as close to her as possible at all times. I wasn’t mad at it. Just as bad as my feet knew I wanted to be close to her, my hands knew that I wanted to touch her. When I was close enough, I placed my hands on her hips and kissed her cheek from behind. She nearly jumped out of her skin.
“You scared me to death,” she told me.
“I’m sorry, baby. I was looking for my uniform.”
“I came to see if you were dressed and saw that it needed ironing.”
“Yeah, I was going to hit it with a little heat when I got out of the shower. I see you got me all the way together.”
“That’s right. I want my man looking as good as he possibly can,” she said, turning to hold the freshly pressed shirt in front of me.
“Is that right?” I quizzed.
I was so turned on that I was seconds away from saying fuck the time. I knew that it would be unprofessional to show up late. Most of my business came from client referrals. I needed to make a good impression. Still my baby had ironed my clothes without me even asking or thinking about it.
“Absolutely.”
Throwing my head back, I looked to the heavens and prayed out loud. “Lord, please don’t let me lose this woman I prayed and begged You to give me. I swear on You and Your son, she’s perfect.”
Iyla thought that was funny, but I was serious as a heart attack. “You’re so silly.” She tittered.
“I might be, but I’m dead for real.”
“Why do I believe you?” she asked, tilting her head.
“Because I suck at lying.”
“That’s a good thing.”
“I know it is,” I said, chuckling as I reached around her and grabbed the pants that were folded neatly on the end of the ironing board.
“Keywan, I’m going to say something. You don’t have to respond to it right now. As a matter of fact, I don’t want you to respond. Take some time and think about it.”
“What is it, Iyla?”
“I think you should tell your mom about what happened to you. She deserves to know that you were in pain because someone hurt you. I think she will understand that you didn’t know how to process your pain, so you lashed out in other ways.”
I listened to what Iyla had to say. Since she told me that I didn’t have to respond, I chose not to. I had already told her that I wasn’t telling anyone else so there was no need for me to repeat it.
“Thank you for caring,” I told her, kissing her forehead before turning to go back to my room to get dressed.
I didn’t need to explain that there was no use in digging up the past. Iyla knew that. My mom would probably just take me to the church to have her beloved pastor lay hands on me. That’s not what I needed. I needed to move on with my life.
Dredging up the past would only take me backward. I didn’t need any setbacks. I was proud of the progress I was making. Mylife was all about forward motion. I wanted to grow, but I didn’t think it was necessary to bring up old shit to make that happen.
Against my protest, Iyla was behind the scenes helping me cook and set up everything for the party. I had hired a couple students from the local culinary school to make sure that the night ran smoothly. They were great at prep work which left me plenty of time to perfect the set up for the stations the bride wanted.
I whipped up batter for the various flavors of pancakes and waffles and my helpers were hard at work making them. We were doing forty of each flavor since they were so small. I had the toppings for the stations all set up and ready to go.
My baby was a whiz at helping me make everything look good. She even added her own touches. I didn’t bother her as she rearranged the set up and made each station easily accessible. She worked with the decorator to use some of the decor from the party to help tie the stations in with the overall look. I loved seeing her go hard to make my job easier. Iyla was a godsend, and she didn’t even realize it.
As the party started, Lilly, one of my helpers offered to run the omelet station so that I could rest and address anything that came up over the course of the party. That sounded good to me. We were only set to be there for two hours. Still I wanted to spend as much time as I could with Iyla.
