Lamin’s wedding took place three months later, in August of 1996. It was lovely. Dream was escorted down the aisle by her father, and she looked gorgeous in a skintight, satin, strapless Vera Wang gown. The best part was that Curtis had just come home from jail, and he stood as Lamin’s best man. Zion was also in the wedding as a groomsman, along with Uncle Eli, and Doug, one of the street corner pharmacists who had worked with Zion and Lamin for years. Dream’s sister, Destiny, was her maid of honor (Curtis flirted with her the whole time) and the bridesmaids were me and two of Dream’s friends. We wore slinky, silk gowns in a soft pale blue. It was absolutely beautiful.
Papa, wearing a derby, and Grandma were seated up front, where they stood in as Lamin’s parents. Mommy didn’t come to the wedding because Wally was sick. Lamin hadn’t wanted to invite her anyway. Aunt Inez brought a date, to everyone’s surprise, a distinguished older man named Fred. She seemed happy, and I hoped he would continue to treat her like royalty. They held hands the whole time. Zion was my escort down the aisle. I couldn’t help pretending that this was our wedding day—wishful thinking on my part. But, it was the closest thing to perfect. The R&B sensation, Lena Rae, sang at the ceremony. Lamin had produced and directed her music video. She was up and coming, and her voice was glorious. I was impressed. The event was
star-studded, and cameras flashed from all directions. I had never seen a wedding more beautiful than Lamin’s.
At the reception, Dream and Lamin looked so happy together. They danced the first dance to Patti LaBelle’s “Love and Need and Want You, Baby,” gazing into each other’s eyes. It was so romantic. But I still thought Lucky should have been the one in the wedding gown. I always thought Lamin would marry Lucky. She and I had become so close over the years, and I knew that she loved my brother. I felt bad for Lucky, and I was disappointed that she wasn’t the new Mrs. Michaels. I hardly knew Dream. She certainly wasn’t my choice for a sister-in-law. Imagine my shock when I returned from Aruba to find out that Lamin had not only broken up with Lucky—but he was engaged to another woman that fast! I couldn’t believe it. And I didn’t believe he loved Dream like he loved Lucky. But this was my brother’s day. I put my feelings aside and helped him celebrate his marriage.
Papa and Grandma danced together like two teenagers in love and it was so sweet. Papa’s hat never left his head as he danced with movements as smooth as butter. They made me believe in love. Maybe someday I would have that.
I sat staring at Zion’s sexy self, standing by the bar talking to Lena Rae. She reached up and touched his freshly braided cornrows (Zion had grown his hair out and it only made him sexier than ever), and I fumed in my seat. I hadn’t spoken to him much since Donovan’s murder. Both of us had gotten caught up in Lamin’s big wedding production, plus Zion had taken two trips out of town in the past two months, so our paths hadn’t crossed that much. Seeing him talking to this lovely woman with a voice that could calm the stormy seas, I couldn’t help feeling jealous.
“Looks like you wanna scratch Shorty’s eyes out!”
I turned and realized that Curtis, who knew me so well, was sitting beside me with a smirk on his face. “Let me find out she stole your man!”
I frowned. “Who? Zion? Nah, he’s just a friend …”
“I’ve heard that before! Gimme a break. The only reason you
would stare at a chick with that much hate in your eyes is if she had somethin’ you want.”
Curtis knew me so well. “She just thinks she’s all of that,” I said.
Curtis kissed my cheek. “Everyone knows that you’re the only star in this room right now.”
I smiled. “Come on and dance with your cousin,” he said, pulling me to the dance floor. We danced together crackin’ jokes on some of the other people on the dance floor. Then Papa came over and cut in. “I ain’t had a dance with my granddaughter all night.”
Curtis happily let me enjoy a dance with Papa while he danced with Grandma. Papa could dance like a professional. He twirled me around and even dipped me. I had such a nice time, laughing and dancing with my grandfather, that I forgot all about Zion and Lena Rae. “Papa, aren’t you a little disappointed that Lamin married Dream instead of Lucky?” I asked.
Papa nodded his head. “Sure I am, sugar. We all loved Lucky like part of the family. In fact, Lucky was the best woman for your brother. But this is Lamin’s life, and we gotta let him live it. You can’t tell nobody who to love. All we can do now is give him our support.”
And so I did just that. I even proposed a toast to the couple, congratulating them on their marriage and warning Dream that she better be good to my brother. Or else. And I meant it.
Toward the end of the reception, there were only about fifty guests remaining. As I was sitting alone at a corner table, Zion strode over and sat down beside me. This was our first time alone since I returned from Aruba, and my heartbeat was damn near audible. I smiled nervously, and Zion smiled back. He was so handsome, but with his hair in cornrows he looked even better. He reminded me of that singer Ginuwine and I was weak in the knees from his mere presence.
“Hello, stranger,” he said. “I haven’t seen you in a while, so I think you’ve been avoiding me.”
I shook my head. “No, I haven’t. I guess we just keep missing each other.” I paused, waiting for him to say something. When he didn’t, I spoke once more. “Zion, I never got to say thank you for—”
“Are you talking about that muthafucka that laid hands on you?” Zion asked, cutting me off in midsentence.
I nodded. “I appreciate—”
“Don’t thank me for that, Olivia. I would do it again in a heartbeat.” We sat there, looking at each other, awkwardly still. Zion looked at me with such intensity that I felt self-conscious. He seemed to be looking at every crevice on my body, my face, my hands, as if he were seeing a work of art. Finally, he spoke. “Yo, Olivia … I never wanted Lamin to know that I was into you. I guess I was too pussy to tell my boy that I was fuckin’ his little sis, ya know. But I was feelin’ you. Don’t get it twisted.”
I smiled. “Well, for the record, Zion, you’ll always be my heart. I don’t care how many divas in the music industry you fuck wit’.”
He knew I was talkin’ about his little track record with all the singers Lamin worked with. He couldn’t deny it, so he just smiled and shook his head. Then his face turned serious once more. “I don’t care what Lamin thinks anymore.”
I fought the smile that crept across my face. Zion and I just sat there looking at each other, both of us unfamiliar with what we were feeling. “You’re special, Olivia. None of these lames you been dealing with deserves you. And to be honest, I ain’t really tryin’ to see you with nobody else. So, what’s up?”
Zion was so rough. Even his attempt at romance came across like thug love. “What about your girl Lena Rae over there?” I asked. “I saw her touching your braids and smiling like she’s in a Crest commercial. She might not appreciate hearing what you just said to me.”
Zion grinned slightly. “So go tell her what I said. Go ’head. Tell her that I ain’t worried about Lamin no more and I wanna be with you.” Zion was looking at me the same way he used to when we made love. He looked like he saw right through me.
“I want you to kiss me if you mean what you’re saying.” I said it, fully aware that this would be the ultimate test. Zion wasn’t one for public displays of affection with any woman. Surely, he was aware of
the few remaining photographers scattered throughout the reception hall. He knew that Lamin was standing just across the room with Dream. My grandparents were there, the boys from the block were there. What would he do. I waited.
Zion looked into my eyes. He licked his lips and leaned closer. Our lips were inches apart, and I heard people nearby begin to whisper. Zion first kissed me softly on the lips. Then he kissed me fully, pulling me into his arms and tasting the Merlot on my tongue. I saw the cameras begin to flash as we ended our kiss. And then Grandma started clapping. Everyone else quickly joined in, and I saw my brother stand and raise his glass in salute to me and Zion. We were officially a couple, with Lamin’s blessing, and I was thrilled. I was smiling from ear to ear, and Zion seemed just as happy. Curtis, who was neither clapping nor toasting, quickly exited out the side door. I noticed, although no one else seemed to.
Lamin and Dream honeymooned in Paris—the city of love. And I prayed that the joy we all felt that day would continue forever. I pushed the tragedy with Donovan out of my mind and I was more determined than I had ever been to find peace and happiness with Zion.
I found out about Lamin’s wedding when I opened Ebony magazine one Monday morning. It was ironic that I would learn of his marriage from the media just as I had learned of his infidelity from the media. The magazine printed a detailed article and a four-page pictorial showing the happy couple on their wedding day. As much as I wanted to pretend otherwise, I was hurt. I still loved Lamin. I would probably love him for the rest of my life. I always thought that I would be his wife—that I would be his bride in a big, star-studded, extravagant ceremony. But it wasn’t me.
I was happy for Olivia, though. They ran a photo of her kissing Zion, and they looked like the most beautiful couple on the planet. I
wished them happiness, despite the fact that I was more miserable than ever. Depressed, I closed the magazine and cried for what I hoped would be the last time.
After leaving Lamin, I humbly moved back to my parents’ house. There was no need to explain my reasons for leaving since it seemed that everyone had seen the infamous photo in the newspaper. It was embarrassing, and I had never been more humiliated. Olivia had called me several times, but I couldn’t find the strength to talk to her without crying. And I didn’t want to cry to her and risk Lamin finding out just how devastated I really was. So I avoided her calls and ignored her messages. Papa even called once, about a month after Lamin and I split. I was in the bathtub soaking away my sorrows when the phone rang. I didn’t answer it. Instead, I let the answering machine pick up. I heard Papa’s old-school baritone sounding so familiar as he spoke. “Lucky, baby, this is your boy, Papa.” I smiled. Papa hadn’t been a ‘boy’ for a long time. “I know you and Lamin are going through your hard times,” he said. “But you gon’ always be family to me and my wife. If you ever need us for anything, you let us know. I know you remember how much I like to give advice, so if you need some, I ain’t but a phone call away. You be good now, and take care.” I cried enough tears to make the tub overflow as I grieved for the void left in my life. I loved Lamin’s family just as much as I loved him. I missed them so much. But I still couldn’t bring myself to call them.
My friends rallied around me to offer me a shoulder to cry on. I spent a lot of time with Veronica and Audrey and I was grateful to have them to lean on. The whole experience was devastating. My whole lifestyle changed. I was no longer eating in five-star restaurants, going to the spa for facials or massages, or spending thousands of dollars in shopping sprees where I never had to look at the price tag. I didn’t have those luxuries anymore. But it wasn’t the money that I missed most of all. It was Lamin. I was twenty-two years old. I had loved and lost, and I was sick about it. I swore to myself that I would never love again—never allow myself to feel pain like that again.
My mother understood my pain. She held me in her arms and just
rocked me when I needed to cry. She didn’t say “I told you so” and she didn’t tell me to forget about Lamin and move on with my life. She let me go through my pain and she helped me by simply being understanding. My father, on the other hand, was condescending. He made remarks like, “Why are your eyes so puffy, Laila? You’ve been crying over that no good nigga again? Do you think he’s wasting time crying over you?”
I moved out as soon as I was able to. I got myself an apartment on Staten Island and began to piece together my life on my own for the first time. But reading about Lamin’s wedding was enough to set me back. I found myself feeling all the same emotions all over again. But eventually I made up my mind that I would not wallow in self-pity. Lamin had moved on with his life so quickly. And I had to pick myself up and move on just the same. No matter how much it hurt.