“Beautiful, now the whole table please.” She stepped back and reangled her camera.
Xylina never released my arm as the woman took a couple pictures of us before pulling the camera back and checking them out.
“Nice. I have to say you all look good. Beautiful family.” She moved to the next table.
“She’s right, you know,” Xylina commented. “Wearebeautiful together. Can you imagine how gorgeous our kids would be? They’ll be hated by everyone around for their looks alone.”
I choked on air when she mentioned kids and stared at her like she was crazy.
“Kids?” Mom called out.
“I wasn’t aware you two were thinking of kids?” Dad jumped in.
A sheepish expression formed on Xylina’s face. “I mean, isn’t that the next step in a marriage? Procreating and expanding ourhousehold.” Her expression changed. She stared at my parents as if they were dumb.
In the five years we’d been together, kids were never talked about. While they were something I wanted and planned to have, creating one with Xylina never crossed my mind. Not only had she never displayed any maternal instincts, this thing between us was only temporary and kids were anything but that.
“Kids are a big commitment, and frankly, Xylina, I don’t see you as a good choice for the mother of my grandkids,” Mom stated matter-of-factly.
“Excuse me!” Xylina exclaimed. An offended expression formed on her face.
“I’m just saying, kids should be created out of love and trust. Not a contracted obligation.”
A flash of fury blazed in Xylina’s eyes. I could tell she was ready to go to war with my mom.
While I agreed with my mom, this wasn’t the time for this conversation. Needing to put a pin in this, I grabbed Xylina’s hands, removing them from my forearms while giving my dad a look to help me out here.
“Not here, honey,” I heard my dad whisper to her.
Xylina was now glaring at me. “You’re not going to say anything?”
“Xylina.” I expressed lowly. “Not now.”
“Don’t Xylina me!” she said shrilly as her eyes flashed. Her deep brown cheeks were now tinted red.
My patience was running thin. Thankfully there was music playing overhead and chatter surrounding us to drown out her tantrum, but still, tonight was a night of celebration and I wasn’t going to argue with her. Not here and especially not in front of my parents.
“Not now!” This time my tone came out hard and slightly elevated, leaving no room for debate. She flinched slightly at my words.
Poking her bottom lip out, she shot a hateful glare toward my mom before huffing, snatching her glass up, and pushing away from the table. Standing, she sashayed away from the table toward the bar. Even pissed off, she walked with grace. It was like she was meant to wear heels.
Taking my eyes from her, I turned to my parents. “Did you have to say that now?” I questioned.
Mom looked confused. “What? I was just telling her the truth. That girl in no way is meant to be a mother to my grandkids. You can do better.”
“Even if that’s true, honey, now wasn’t the time to bring it up,” Dad interjected.
Mom pressed her lips together and her eyes roamed the room. As if she remembered where we were, she gave me a remorseful look.
“You’re right. I’m sorry, Siah.”
Sighing, I smiled softly. “It’s cool, Mama. Just tone it down please. This night is important to me.”
She nodded and grabbed her flute. “I will.”
Dad looked at her proudly before leaning over and kissing her cheek.
Xylina returned with a full glass, but didn’t bother saying anything to anyone at the table. She was pouting and upset; that was clear. My mom’s delivery and timing was wrong, but Xylina only had herself to blame for that.