Double Date: A Moore Valentine’s Tale
“Just a little more in the back and then we’re done.” Mia lifted a thick section of her daughter’s hair, carefully gliding the flat iron paddles repeatedly over the curls, until they were rendered silky smooth. “Po, I cannot believe how long your hair has gotten.” With her arm now tired from the repetitive motion, Mia continued to straighten her daughter’s hair, all the while thinking, Advil is in my future, and maybe some wine, too.
Admiring herself in the mirror, Portia agreed. “I didn’t know it was this long. I really like it straight like this, Mommy.”
“It looks very pretty, sweetie. You look very sophisticated.” Mia smiled at her in the mirror.
“Do you think he’ll like it?” Her dark brown eyes appeared very serious, her question of the utmost importance.
“I think he’ll love it. And with that red dress, you are totally going to bowl him over,” she reassured her.
“Both Emily and Kaitlyn told me they want to dance with him. They think he’s really cute.”
Smirking to herself, Mia parted another section of Portia’s hair, gathering it up to straighten. “They want to dance with him, huh? Wow, that’s pretty, umm,” she searched for the right word, knowing the one she really wanted to use was not appropriate, “bold. That’s pretty bold. How do you feel about that?”
“I don’t know if I want to share him with them. It’s Valentine’s Day and he is my valentine.” Meeting her mother’s eyes in the mirror, there was no doubt how serious this was to Portia, as witnessed by her territoriality. “And I don’t want to dance with their dates,” she added emphatically.
“Well, it is your Valentine’s dance, sweetie, and you don’t have to share your date with anyone, if you don’t want to. I’m sure he’d be much happier just dancing with you all night.” And probably a whole lot more comfortable, too, she couldn’t help but think.
“Then I’m not being selfish because I don’t want to share him?” The little girl’s expression was dead serious.
“Not selfish at all.” Although wanting to laugh because the questions were so adorable, Mia understood how real Portia’s stress was about her friends wanting to dance with her date.
Although Po seemed pleased with her mother’s response, the continued troubled look in her eyes revealed so much more, and Mia sensed they were just about to get to the heart of the matter.
“I’m kind of afraid they won’t want to be my friends anymore if I don’t let them dance with him.”
And there it was, the real issue at hand.
Mia could see her daughter’s angst and understood the little girl’s fear. Upsetting her friends might result in being ostracized from the group, cast aside, in a way only little girls can do to one another.
While Portia’s sunny disposition and quick wit had helped stave off some of the burden of being different, of being the adopted African child of American parents, it was in moments like this, that Mia could see her little one was already learning to master a balancing act. Her heart hurt knowing that these issues had already cropped up in her daughter’s young life.
Being a little girl was rarely all sugar and spice.
“If they are going to be that way, Po, then they are not true friends.”
“But Mommy, they are the coolest girls I know.”
“Sometimes cool doesn’t mean they are either a nice person or a good friend.” Taking a deep breath before speaking, Mia thought carefully about the next words of advice she imparted. “Never feel that you have to do something you don’t want to do, or something that doesn’t feel right to you, just to gain or keep someone’s friendship. I can assure you this, Po, that person is not worthy of having a friend as wonderful as you.”
They sat quietly for a moment and Mia hoped her words were not only of comfort to her young daughter now, but that they remained something she carried with her over the course of her life. All she could do, as a parent, was repeat the advice to not worry about fitting in, but rather to embrace expanding out, until Portia found out who she was, and what made her happy.
“I know he’s going to be the most handsome date there.” Portia was back to thinking about the Valentine’s dance and showing off her date to all her friends.
“No doubt about that,” concurred Mia. No doubt about that at all. “Okay, we are done here. Now let’s get your dress on.”
Helping her daughter into the red satin popover dress, Mia felt her eyes mist. Her little girl was growing up too fast. The toddler she had brought back from Zambia was now worrying about acceptance and peer pressure, and as much as Mia wanted to shield her, and keep her world stress-free, she knew that those days were rapidly retreating and would soon be forever lost. Tonight was a moment to hold onto.
Opening the shoe box, Mia pulled out the red sparkly ballet flats, handing them to her daughter.
“I love these,” Po responded enthusiastically, slipping on her new blingy shoes. “I just love these.”
“They match your nails perfectly.” Mia had taken her daughter for a manicure earlier in the day, sharing some perfect Mommy/Daughter girl-time.
Holding out her hands and examining her iridescent red nails, she exclaimed, “They do!” as if making a significant discovery. “They totally match.”
Startled by a knock on the door, Mia asked “Are you ready? Shall I get the door?”
With a nod and a squaring of her shoulders, Portia gave her mother the okay.
“Here we go.” Incapable of containing her smile, Mia slowly opened the door, making a show of it and relishing the moment.
His sharp intake of breath was immediately audible the moment his gaze fell on Portia. When he remained silent, Mia could see by the smile in his eyes that he was just too overwhelmed for words as he walked slowly toward the little girl. In his hands, he held a small box containing a wristlet of miniature crimson rose buds and baby’s breath.
“You look beautiful, sweetheart,” his voice was thick with emotion when he finally spoke.
Dipping her shoulder, Portia gazed up at him through her long, dark lashes, a motion and a look she had shared with him, and only him, from the very first moment they met. “Thank you, Daddy. You look really handsome, too, and the best part is, your tie matches my dress.”
Yes, it does, thought Mia, who had shopped a half dozen men’s departments with their daughter’s dress in tow to ensure his tie was the perfect color match.
“This is for you.” As he opened the box, Portia simultaneously gasped and outstretched her arm, ready for him to slide on the corsage. “That looks perfect.” He straightened it on her wrist. “You look absolutely amazing.” Schooner leaned down to kiss his daughter’s cheek.
“Thank you, Daddy.” She beamed for a moment, soaking in the compliment, before excitedly running from the room, calling over her shoulder, “I’m going to get my coat. Hurry up.”
Turning to Schooner, Mia took a moment to enjoy just taking in the image of her husband all dressed up. No one rocked a suit like this man. No one.
He just gets better and better.
She wondered, how this man, after nearly three decades, could still spark that take-your-breath-away reaction in her? Standing there in his dark gray suit, white shirt, and crimson tie, Mia knew exactly why Po couldn’t wait to show him off to her friends. Even these little girls knew a handsome man when they saw one.
Gathering her into his arms, Schooner smiled down at his wife. “You’re okay with me dating another woman on Valentine’s Day?”
“No, biggie. I have a date myself tonight with a really handsome guy.”
“Oh yeah. Where is he taking you?”
“Shake Shack.” Mia couldn’t repress her grin.
“Classy. A Danny Meyer’s joint for Valentine’s Day.” Schooner, too, was unable to hide his smile. “So, are you up for two dates in one night?”
“Oh, are you asking me out?”
“I am.”
“Hmm, a late-night date? That sounds like a booty call to me.” Mia’s grin was infectious.
“Well, yeah.” Pulling her in tighter, he revealed, “With a few surprises thrown in.”
“Mmm, surprises? What kind of surprises?” Her grin was growing devilishly wider.
“Check the shower.” His smile had now turned dangerous.
“Mango Butter?” Her eyes widened, as memories flooded in, again taking her breath away.
Shaking his head, Schooner lowered his lips to Mia’s ear, letting them graze her lobe softly. “Mangos are out of season,” he whispered.
“Pretty Boy, mangos are never out of season in this house.”
“You’re killing me, Baby Girl.” He gave her ear a not-so-soft nip and laughed.
“I’m killing you?” She moaned softly.
In the great room, an impatient Portia stood waiting, her dress coat on, while her brother, Nathaniel, lie curled up on the couch, eyes transfixed on the television, and oblivious to everyone else in the room.
Leaning over the couch, Schooner quietly palmed his son two twenty-dollar bills. “Natie, put that in your pocket and treat your mom to dinner, okay?”
Looking at the money in his hand, the little boy’s eyes grew wide. “Oh boy, I’m getting cheese on my fries and the biggest shake in the whole wide world.”
Ruffling his hair, Schooner straightened up and pointed a finger at Mia, as he crossed the room to her. “You and I have a date later.”
“Promises, promises,” she kidded back.
“You have no idea.” And leaning down to kiss her, he whispered, “Be ready for me.”
And there it was again. That smile, that dangerous smile that melted her.
Extending an arm to his young daughter, he asked, “Are you ready to go?”
Reaching up with a gloved hand, she took his arm, smiling confidently at her handsome father. “Daddy, you know I was born ready to go. Let’s do this!”
“You are such a Moore.” He looked at her proudly.
Turning back to smile at his wife, Schooner shook his head, still laughing at his precocious little girl’s comment.
“Later, Baby Girl,” he mouthed to Mia as he entered the loft’s elevator. His look was incendiary, filled with promises she knew he would keep.
Wondering what surprise Schooner had left for her, Mia headed toward the master bedroom, but stopped herself halfway down the long hall, realizing that waiting until he was home, and the kids were asleep, and discovering it together would be the greatest part of the gift.
“Go get your coat, Natie.” Mia swatted his bottom playfully, getting him to move off the couch. “We have a date to go on. And I need a double cheeseburger with bacon.”
Double cheeseburger, she laughed to herself. I’m definitely going to need all the energy I can muster for later on tonight and whatever that man has in store for me.
If there was one thing Mia knew about her husband, Schooner Moore never offered empty promises.
Ever.