“I’m okay…”
“What’s wrong? Did that lady at work give you shit again??
I laughed. “No, Mom.”
“Then what is it?”
I took a deep breath. “I just had a lunch date with a man I’ve been seeing for about a week and he got me a gift.”
“Back up. Who is this man?”
I rolled my eyes. “Just a man. But Mom, focus. He got me a gift a week—”
“How many dates?”
“I guess, technically it’s the third date. But listen… he got me a book.” I paused. “Maslow’s Theory.”
She didn’t say anything for so long, I thought she didn’t hear me. Then finally she hissed, “What?”
“He got me Maslow’s Theory, Mom.”
“Did you tell him about—?”
“No. Not at all. He’s a psychology professor at HU and all we do is talk about psych stuff. And I guess I went on a tangent about the hierarchy of needs and he got me that book.”
“Wow…”
“I know!”
“Of all the books about Maslow—”
“—he brings me Dad’s favorite book.”
“Well, I guess that means he’s the one,” Mom joked.
My stomach plummeted. “Huh?”
“I’m kidding! I know you don’t plan on settling down until you have your mid-life crisis.”
I wanted to laugh, but I was so consumed with what the book meant and if it was a sign that I couldn’t.
“Do you think it’s a sign?” I asked quietly.
“A sign from your father?”
I nodded even though she couldn’t see me. “Yeah.”
“Do you think it’s a sign?”
I thought for a few seconds. “I do.”
“Then it’s a sign. Simple as that.”
Confusion twisted my face as I started my car. “Simple as that? Huh?”
“Whatever you believe has power,” she explained. “If you believe it’s a sign, it’s a sign. If you believe it’s a coincidence, it will be a coincidence. But the most important part of the equation is what you think it means. So, what do you think it’s a sign of?”
“Like Dad is giving his blessing or…” I shook my head. “I don’t… I don’t know.”
“You know how much he loved you. I have no doubt he’s watching over you.” She was quiet for a moment. “Your father thought the sun rose and set on you, Zo.”
“I know. You, too.”
“You’re so hard on yourself—”
“Mom,” I interrupted.
“The accident wasn’t your fault—”
My chest felt tight. “I don’t want to talk about this.”
“Listen, you don’t have to talk about it, but you need to listen to me. You have been running from a relationship since your father died and if you think this is a sign for you to date this man, date him. But let this also be a sign for you to let yourself off the hook.”
“Okay,” I mumbled. “I have to go.”
“I’m serious, Zola.”
“I love you. Bye, Mom.”
“I love you, too. Let me know what you decide to do.”
I hung up and felt more confused than ever.
I started driving home. I was still in my head and didn’t even notice my neighbor on his porch.
“This is not what God intended when he made leggings,” Darius called out. “You don’t have the ass to pull that off.”
I looked over at him, sitting on the top step wearing grey sweatpants and a Hamilton University t-shirt.
“And you don’t have the dick to pull that off,” I yelled back, gesturing in his direction. “Your lack of a print is a crime against sweatpants.”
He stood up. “The only crime being committed is me looking this good. God broke the mold when he made me.”
“Yeah, he broke it so he wouldn’t make the same mistakes again.”
Darius laughed and I felt a smile playing on my lips.
He scratched his head. “You’re a real asshole.”
I opened my door and with a wave, I added, “Grow a pair of ovaries.”
When I was inside, I let out a sigh of relief. The back and forth with Darius helped get me out of my head and prevented me from losing myself in the past.
“I’m pushing forward. I have work to do,” I told myself as I headed to my bedroom. I stripped out of my leggings, boots, and tunic and changed into a slip dress and sexy, floral kimono.
“Hello?” I answered my phone as I carried my tea into my office.
“Hey, I was in a meeting,” Kia greeted me. “What are you doing?”
“I’m about to write for The Herald and then I’m going to record something for my blog. I hate to interrupt you at work, but I had a minor crisis.”
“Oh, what’s wrong?”
I sat down at my desk. “I told Jordan I needed to see him for a couple minutes and he told me to come to his office. When I got there, he was just finishing up with a student, so he didn’t have much time before his next student was coming to do a make-up exam or something. I started telling him how much I enjoyed getting to know him and he interrupted me and told me he’d gotten me a gift.” I paused dramatically. “He gave me a copy of my dad’s favorite book.”
“What?” she gasped.
“He gave me a copy of my dad’s favorite psychology book.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah.”
We were both quiet for an extended period of time.
“That’s wild,” she whispered.
“I know! And I can’t stop thinking about it. I just got home not too long ago and I just don’t know what to do.”
“What do you mean?”
I swallowed hard. “A week and a half ago, you said it was a sign. That me connecting with Jordan the way I did was a sign. And now I’m going back and forth about if I’m prematurely cutting ties with Jordan to pursue this thing with Saint and—”
“What?!” she screeched. Her voice was so loud that I had to pull the phone away from my ear. “You and Saint are together together?”
“Yeah.”
“I called you yesterday and you were working. You couldn’t take five minutes to tell me this huge life changing news?!”
“I’m sorry. I was trying to make up for all the work I didn’t do this weekend and I had some stuff I needed to get to The Herald by five o’clock on top of my own stuff.”
“I understand all that,” Kia said dismissively. “But you have a boyfriend! Zola Patterson has a boyfriend!”
“I mean… I guess, yeah, I do. I mean, we didn’t say that, but I guess.” The thought of that felt different—not good or bad, just different. I didn’t know how to process it. “I guess he is my boyfriend.”
“You told me that you two had a good time at the concert and that he was taking you somewhere quiet so you could talk and then I didn’t hear from you again. That must’ve been a hell of a date that you went into the weekend with multiple men and you came out on the other side with a whole boyfriend!”