The air in the room was heavy with the scent of fresh ginger and the rhythmic sound of a thumb swiping against glass. Nala's bedroom was a sanctuary of soft textures—velvet pillows, a thick rug that swallowed sound, and a California king bed that felt more like a cloud than a piece of furniture. Every surface was cluttered with framed photos: Nala laughing at brunch, Nala at a gala, and Nala and Himari back in their school days.
Despite the luxury, Nala was a portrait of misery. She was buried deep under the covers, the duvet pulled right up to the bridge of her nose. Even though it was well into the morning, a red silk bonnet protected her hair, the sheen of the fabric catching the dim morning light.
She stared listlessly at her phone. The PikFlip feed was a blur of tropical blue water and smiling faces. She paused on Himari's latest post—a stunning shot from a terrace in the city. Usually, she would be the first to comment with fire emojis, but today, the sight of someone else's joy felt like a chore. With a sharp exhale, she closed the app.
She pulled up her contacts, her thumb hovering. She wanted to reach out to Himari, but the words felt stuck. How do I tell her that her own brother is breaking my heart? It felt like a betrayal of their friendship to put her in the middle. Instead, she scrolled down and tapped Darla's name.
Nala: are you busy?
Nala: I really need to talk to someone!
Nala: call me when you're up.
She tossed the phone onto the expanse of the mattress and pulled the blankets over her head, disappearing into a cocoon of silk and cotton.
A soft knock preceded the door swinging open. Amara stepped in, her slippered feet making no sound on the carpet. She moved with the grace of a woman who knew exactly how to navigate her own home, even when her babies were hiding. She sat on the edge of the bed, reaching out to pat the lump under the covers.
"What happened?" Amara asked, her voice a gentle melody.
"Nothing," came the muffled, flat response from beneath the duvet.
Amara's brow arched. "If it's nothing, why are you not at work right now?" She reached up, tucking a stray strand of her salt-and-pepper, silk-pressed hair behind her ear. "You know I'm going to get it out of you. Cough it up. Can't hide nothing from your Mama."
The blanket was slowly pushed down. Nala looked at her mother, her expression utterly crestfallen. "Ji-ho doesn't like me," she admitted, the words tasting like ash. She felt a wave of embarrassment—how could her own fiancé not want her?
Amara stayed silent, allowing her daughter the time and space needed to air out her thoughts.
"It's so awkward, Mom," Nala said, sitting up and crossing her legs. Her shoulders slumped, the rejection weighing her down. "He barely looked at me last night."
"Baby, what did he say?" Amara asked, her protective instincts sharpening. "Was he rude? Mean to you?" The look in Amara's eyes suggested that if the answer was yes, Ji-ho was about to have a very long, very unpleasant afternoon.
"Mom, stop. He wasn't mean. Not intentionally," Nala groaned. "He just... he said he doesn't want to be married yet. That he thinks it's better if we call it off. But I don't want to call it off. I like him. He's handsome, and he was always kind to her. The fact that he was handsome was a bonus."
Amara let out a soft chuckle and shook her head. "I see. It's new. I think you both need time. But don't get your hopes too high. Take it slow for the year. See how it goes. If it's not right, it's not right."
"How am I supposed to take it slow when he doesn't even want to give me a chance?" Nala moped. "He wants to be single."
"You are my most determined child," Amara said firmly, reaching out to cup Nala's face. "You will figure this out. I know you will."
"Or I'll end up single and alone and a loser forever." The moment anybody found out that she was rejected by her first fiancé, it would be the beginning of the end for her. No one wanted damaged goods.
Amara laughed loudly at that. "And I didn't raise a single loser. I don't know who you're talking about, but it could not be my good daughter. Get up, get dressed. I'll do your hair, and you're going to hold your head up high and go straight to work. Your brother is ringing down my phone, child. Up! Off you go!"
Nala groaned, a long, dramatic sound, but she rolled out of bed and rushed toward the bathroom. "Why is everything so hard?" she complained, slamming the door behind her.
"This is your Everest, dear. Climb it!" Amara called out, laughing.
As she descended the stairs, Amara pulled out her phone and tapped a contact: Veda Lee.
"Morning," Veda answered, the sound of a teacup clinking in the background.
"I wish it was a better morning," Amara said as she hit the ground floor. "At my house, it is melodramatics."
She stopped short in the living room. Koda was sprawled on the couch, a bowl of cereal balanced on his chest. Amara glanced at the clock. "Hold on one moment, Veda. Boy, you better get up and out of my house!"
"Mom, it's my day off," Koda complained. "Can't I just relax?" The way everyone in the family went to work as if it were integral to their survival sickened him. What was the point of having more money than God if you couldn't take a day off?
"It's Friday. Relax on Saturday. Get up. Your brother's at work. Your father's at work. I'm going. Get! Now!"
"Have you not heard of a mental health day?" he tried to reason, still unwilling to be tethered to the office.
"You are deteriorating my mental health. Go to work!" Amara raised her voice as she pointed to the door.
Koda sighed in irritation, thudding his bowl onto the coffee table. He gave his mom a quick, begrudging hug before sprinting out the door, muttering about how he should have stayed at his own place.
Amara put the phone back to her ear. "Sorry about that, Veda."
"It's okay. I'm herding cats over here, too," Veda sighed. "I swear, any opportunity Ming gets to go off and hang out with actresses and models he takes. I need to find him a wife next."
"All sons need to get married early to keep them moving forward," Amara agreed. "Or else they'll end up sleeping in our beds." They both shared a conspiratorial laugh.
"I hear the kids went on a date last night," Veda said, her tone shifting to business. "Ji-ho never comes home, so I have no idea how it went. You?"
"Less than great. Ji-ho doesn't want to get married."
"No man wants to get married," Veda countered. "But he will. And your girl?" She was less worried about her son and more concerned with Amara's daughter. If Nala crumbled, then there would be no wedding.
"She would marry him today if he were only willing," Amara said, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge.
"You know," Veda said, her voice dropping to a whisper, "we should send them on a pre-honeymoon. I'm sure the kids today love stuff like that. Maybe out in Lesleyville? We have a lovely vacation home out there."
"And miles and miles of forest," Amara added, a smile spreading across her face. "The only thing they'll be able to do is talk and make gorgeous little grandbabies."
"Perfect. I'll make sure Ming and Himari take on more responsibility so the two of them can spend some quality time together."
"Good."
"MOM! Are you going to help me with my hair?" Nala's voice drifted down from the top floor.
"I'm so sorry, Veda, I have to go. Nala's calling me. But set everything up. Maybe after the weekend we can send them away."
"I will arrange everything, dear. They will have a blast. Bye now," Veda assured her friend, ending the call.
Amara tucked her phone away, wearing the satisfied expression of a woman who had just won a game of chess before her opponent even knew they were playing. She turned and headed back up the stairs.