I play with the ends of my floral dress while holding a bouquet of roses as my mom drives to Ziyah's house. We were going to eat at some boujee restaurant my mom chose, but Ziyah invited me to his house instead which gave me all kinds of nerves, but I said yes. To make this situation even better my mom has to work on one of her many publicists duties so she can only say a quick hi and goodbye. Thank the lord.
After I contemplate if my dress is too short or if I should've bought wine instead of flowers my mom parks her car. "We're here," she says.
I stop looking at my legs and turn to look out the window. Outside a big white house just a tad smaller than Harper's shines and glistens. Unlike Harper's house with her mom's B&W this house has a certain comforting vibe to it with a bright green lawn and garage. I step out of the car and my mom walks beside me to the bright red door. Unlike both of my apartments the doorbell rings and the sound is quite beautiful, but it gets interrupted by the sound of footsteps. I take a deep breathe and the door swings open to reveal someone I've already met.
"Daya! Yay you're here!" Sofia screams. She's in a big pink dress and baring her usual bright smile. My mom looks down at her in awe, and I know exactly what she's thinking. Ahh I remember when you were that age. "Daya is this your mommy? Wow you guys look alike!"
My mom sticks her hand out to Sofia. "Hi, what's your name sweetheart?"
"Sofia, some call me Sof." My mom does an impressed nod and my eyes wander around the greeting room for the reasons I'm here. Right on time a women's voice yells, "Sofia what did I tell you about opening the door!" Sofia does a little put and runs off.
Taking her place a beautiful smell of lavender is welcomed into the room. To match the beautiful scent a woman just a little taller than me walks in, in loose clothing with a fashionable headscarf. She has glowing skin with no makeup like Alicia Keys. I can clearly see where Ziyah gets his good looks from because she should be on the cover of Essence. She's so captivating she almost makes me forget Ziyah is trailing behind her. Key word being almost, because the sight of him brings my nerves down.
A big smile comes across the gorgeous woman's face and her eyes ignore my mom and widen at the sight of me.
"Oh my god you must be Daya, god you're a looker. Oh and you bought roses, my name is Rose," she shouts.
"Hi, it's nice to meet you," I say.
"Oh its wonderful to meet you too baby." Rose or
Ziyah's mom brings me into a hug and takes the Roses from my hands. Her and Ziyah's attention now goes to my mom. My mom and Rose both introduce themselves and then my mom squeezes the hell out of Ziyah's hand before she gives me a kiss on the cheek and leaves.
I can't decide if my nerves have increased or decreased as Rose walks in between Ziyah and I leading us into a spacious dining room. It's modern with a glass table and big white seats that I hope my sloppy ass doesn't stain.
In two of the chairs sits Angela and Sofia with the same big smiles. Ziyah pulls a seat out for me and sits across from me as Rose sits right next to me.
We spend a good amount of time talking and I think Rose likes me, but I'm not completely sure. Ziyah's eyes are reassuring and quite comforting though, and my nerves are settled as Rose isn't badgering me with questions. Sofia's loud presence is also helping the whole scene. Satisfying my mid day stomach growls and my self esteem Rose says, "Now let's eat we need to get some meat on your bones!" She doesn't actually mean meat because she's a vegetarian, and we have spinach ravioli which isn't half bad.
When we're finished eating Ziyah finally steals some alone time with me as we move from the dinning room to the living room.
"Ma, will be right back," Ziyah says and intertwines my hand with his. I stare at my sneakers and Rose raises her eyebrows.
Rose's smile gets bigger, "Aww your gonna show her the... I mean, door open," she says still holding an obvious amount of excitement.
"Of course." Ziyah leads me up the tall staircase and as we walk, I stop at the sight of a portrait of baby pictures.
"Aww," I coo at the sight of a picture of a younger looking Ziyah holding a newborn. Ziyah has the same emotionless look on his face, but the baby is in the middle of a laugh proving to me that he's holding Sofia. To make me smile more the picture is surrounded by a lace pink frame.
"That's so adorable," I say to myself. Ziyah comes down a step and shakes his head at the picture that is around many others.
"She has the same smile huh," Ziyah says to which I nod to. "Yeah she took a big ole crap right after that picture." We both smirk and Ziyah continues to lead me up the stairs. Upstairs has even more framed pictures along the walls that are a bright white like the outside of the house. He opens a door and we walk into a room that could be more of an apartment. On top of the size it's neat with a made bed and a desk that's the opposite of mine which is bestrewn with papers. I'm about to ask what he wants to show me, but we're standing in front of a big isle that has a shirt thrown over it.
Ziyah's cheeks have a little bit of red in them signaling his nerves. "Umm.. I.. actually just look," Ziyah stutters and shoves his hands in his pockets. He takes off the shirt and my eyes widen at what's on the canvas. It's me. Not some stick finger drawing it's a full blown drawing of me with every single detail you can produce with art supplies. It's me, the me sleeping on my desk with a smile on my face. It doesn't even look like a drawing, but a photograph, and I didn't no Ziyah's hands possessed such talent. I've seen his little doodles in his French notebook, but this is completely different.
"I'm sorry if I made your nose too big," Ziyah mumbles. I turn to look at him as he stares at his shoes.
"No it's amazing," I say. Amazing doesn't do it justice, no adjective can do this canvas justice. He drew me!
"All thanks to you, you're great inspiration," he says and gets closer to me.
"No thank you, it's all you you're extremely talented, why didn't you tell me."
Ziyah lets out an uncomfortable little laugh. "I don't know no one knows, not even my sisters just my mom." Ziyah leads me to his bed which gives me chills, but we just sit at the edge.
"So you just draw and keep it all to yourself?"
"Yea, but," Ziyah's visage changes and I put my hand in his which makes him look up at me and right into my eyes. "Before this I was in like a slump or some shit, but you came around and we'll you know the rest." He gestures to the canvas again, and I look back at it.
I don't know why, but a smile doesn't grace my and tears fill my sockets. "Hey,it ain't that good," Ziyah says and wipes a tear from my cheek. I'm not too sure what's wrong, maybe it's because I've never had someone draw me or it could be allergies from carrying the roses. Either way I'm crying which is one of the things I was scared of doing when coming to Ziyah's house. Damnit Daya, get it together. Ziyah and I both stand and he brings me into a hug, and as usual I melt in his arms.
Between tears I'm able to say, "I'm sorry I'm not like a poet and can't come up with more words to describe it."
"Don't be, crybaby," he says and I can feel the smirk on his face. I could stay in his arms the whole day, but Sofia comes to Ziyah's door, and yells, "Come on love birds!"
Rose shows me around the house some more which includes little fun facts about Ziyah that Ziyah can't stop her from saying. For example Ziyah was or probably still is a mama's boy, and when he was young he used to tag along to his mom's business meetings. That's another thing that interest me about Rose, she's an editor at a fashion magazine which explains why her house belongs on the cover of Architectural digest.
"Zi I'm going to have a word with Daya on my own," she announces as we reach the staircase again. Ziyah looks me over and when he sees a smile he goes into the other room with Sofia and Angela. "Come on darling I don't bite," Rose says and I follow her up the stairs. She carries the ends of her loose pants gracefully and we're back on the second floor. Rose slides her hand along the black railing and leads me in the opposite direction of Ziyah's room passing many portraits of her.
"1990 Madison Square Garden," Rose says and points to one picture on the wall.
"Wow." My eyes widen at the picture of a younger Rose besides Naomi Cambell. They're both in designer clothing smoldering at the camera looking like Bratz dolls. Rose is an icon, and the way she remembers every photos significance proves it.
"Now the 90s were the days baby," Rose smiles at me.
"I bet," I say still dissecting the photo. We reach the end of the hall and Rose pushes the two white doors open to a room similar to a hotel penthouse. The silver silk sheets, king size bed, and antique clock make me forget that Rose has something to tell me, but Rose takes hold of my hand and my nerves begin to move in with their boxes to my body. She has a light delicate touch like Ziyah, and she leads me over to the other side of the room where there is another set of white double doors.
She pushes those open to a walk in closet that almost reminds me of Hannah Montana's. It's so spacious in between the manifold of hanged up clothes there's a bench where Rose and I sit. I want to marvel at how each one of her clothing items has its own place, but Rose's smile steals my attention.
"So Daya you took my baby to see Poetic Justice, what else can I expect from you?"
"Umm," is all that slips from my tongue and Rose laughs.
"Aww it's ok sweetie you know what I told my first boyfriend's mother?" Wait how does she know Ziyah is my first boyfriend. "Nothing because she was too busy snorting crack!" She burst into more laughter and I struggle to do the same.
She continues. "Daya I'm going to get serious now."
"Ok."
"Does Ziyah make you happy?"
"Yes, yes, he does," I say 100% sure of my answer.
"And are you willing to do your best to make him happy?" She should be a wedding officiant with these questions.
"Yes that's all I want to do."
Rose takes a deep breathe. "Daya I'm going to be honest I fee off of people's energy, and your energy is kind and sweet, but scared and trying to shrink." I nod in the exact way she's describing me. "Baby if you're going to love or like someone, you got at least like yourself."
I open my mouth and I'm about to spit out a lie, but Rose's eyes won't let me do that. "Since middle school my mom has never called me beautiful just cute, I don't think she can really see the beauty in herself so I'm not sure if she can see it in me, but I'm not like my mom." Rose gets closer to me and places her hand on top of mine. "I may not be able to completely appreciate myself or see my beauty, but that doesn't stop me from seeing yours or Ziyah's, but I guess you're right."
"Aww Baby I'm always right, but that doesn't make you wrong, and you're beautiful." Rose brings me into a hug and the smell of her smooth clothing feels amazing.
As we walk out of her bedroom she turns to me and we lock eyes. "Don't let your insecurities ruin something great," she says and her smile doesn't fade. When we get downstairs and I see Ziyah it all hits me why I cried at the portrait, It was the unusual sensation of feeling beautiful. He made me feel beautiful. He had to have looked at that photo forever and he thinks I'm beautiful and the drawing made me forget all the girls I compare myself to.