Page 40 of Mister Musician

“Well…” Harmony shrugged, giving him a sweet smile. “Some things are beyond our control.” She looked away briefly before continuing. “Let’s see, you already know my name. I’m thirty-two and will be thirty-three January tenth. Really excited about that birthday because it’s my Jesus year. I feel like it’ll be the year I step into my purpose.”

“Which is?”

“Being a full-time author. I’ve done it part time for the past two years, but because of my work schedule I haven’t been able to devote the time I’d like to it.”

“That’s amazing, Harmony. How many books have you written and published?”

“Ten,” she almost whispered bashfully.

“Word? That’s what’s up. Where can I purchase them?”

“They’re on Amazon, but I have the paperbacks available on my website. I’ll text you the link.”

“Yeah, do that. I’d love to buy directly from you and support you in any way that I can.” Her mouth opened but she snapped it shut and gritted her teeth before looking away. “What’s wrong, beautiful?”

“Hmm?” Her head shook adamantly. “Nothing.”

“I’d rather you say you don’t want to talk about it than lie. It’s obvioussomethingis wrong.”

Harmony released a hard exhale as she sat back in her seat. “My ex-fiancé wasn’t supportive of my desire to write full time at all. He felt like I wouldn’t make enough money doing it and needed to keep working for the stability. So having your support when you’re practically a stranger versus someone I was prepared to spend the rest of my life with…” Her eyes rolled softly as she chuckled. “Just further confirms us breaking up was for the best.”

“I’ve learned strangers show more love than family and friends sometimes, but it’s also important to have a partner that believes in you. If he didn’t, you’re better off without him. When did the two of you breakup?”

“Thanksgiving. He broke up with me via text, at that.”

“Damn. Now that was some weak ass shit.”

Harmony chuckled. “I was more upset about how he did it than him actually doing it, but I know it was for the best, so I ain’t tripping over it.”

“Do you mind me asking why you two split?”

Harmony squeezed the back of her neck, and Saint was starting to notice she did that when she was nervous or overthinking.

“A few reasons. The biggest was that we weren’t truly compatible, and we couldn’t work around that because we didn’t have proper communication. Well, he didn’t properly communicate. Him as a fiancé and husband differed from the boyfriend version of him, and I didn’t like the changes. Apparently, he didn’t like living with me either. I assumed the change was because of his sickness and that was the reason why we weren’t spending time together and getting along as well as we used to, but he finally admitted that he just didn’t find me exciting anymore since we’d taken things to the next level, so he called it off. Said I deserved better.”

“That sounds backwards to me. I would think living together would take the fun and excitement to the next level. I guess it would depend on how much effort you’re willing to put in to maintain it, though.”

“Exactly. I was all in, but he wasn’t, and it was lonely as hell and difficult trying to not only care for a sick, depressed man but consistently initiate romance and intimacy on top of working. It was just a lot. Even though it hurt, I was glad he released me.”

“I am too. If he hadn’t, I wouldn’t have you.”

For a while, all Harmony did was smile at him. “You mean you wouldn’t have had me.”

“I mean what I said.”

Her head tilted as she smiled at him sweetly, neither saying anything as Tamela placed complimentary fried okra and pickles in the center of their table. After popping a few of the okra into her mouth, Harmony said, “Oh my God. That’s the best fried okra I’ve ever had. If this is any indication of how good the rest of the food is going to be, you might’ve been right.”

“Told you, and that’s literally just the beginning. You’re going to love everything.”

They went back to their conversation, continuing to swap facts about each other. Saint shared with her that he was thirty-five, born June tenth. While Harmony had a normal upbringing, he admitted that his was anything but.

His father, Malcolm Senior, was a middle-aged predator who preyed on the young women who worked at the McDonald’s that he managed. The first young girl he’d gotten pregnant was Saint’s mother. She was sixteen to his thirty-six. She never told her parents who the father was or that she was pregnant until she was pushing Saint out on their bathroom floor.

His mother dropped him off with Malcolm who gave him to his parents, and they told him not to come around until he was ready to be a father—that day never came. The second woman he’d gotten pregnant was Cartier’s mother. She was older and more stable, capable of caring for a child since she wasn’t considered one herself.

Saint wasn’t sure how many other siblings they had, if any at all. As soon as he was of legal age, Saint changed his name. His grandparents named him, thinking Malcolm would come to his senses and be there for his son, but he never did. The two never spoke, and Saint’s first time setting eyes on his father outside of the pictures that lined his grandparent’s walls was at his funeral.

“That must have been hard,” Harmony reasoned. “Seeing him and knowing you’d never have a relationship with him.”

---