DEJONAE
I looked Ashanti up long before this. It was late at night. I was just starting to admit my feelings for Sazuki. Yaya was beside me, manning the computer.
At first, I didn’t want to look.
What did it matter who she was or what she’d meant to him? Why did I need to open things that were best left closed?
Pandora’s box.
But it called to me.
My sister was kind. She offered to close the laptop and turn off the screen. Scrub the search from my laptop’s history and then scrub her mind too.
At the time, I told myself that I didn’t like Sazuki that much. And his past didn’t have the power to hurt me yet.
Yaya turned the laptop around.
And there she was.
Ashanti.
She was stunning.
But now, looking at Sazuki’s ex-wife in the flesh, I realize that pictures do her no justice.
With long, straight black hair and big, expressive eyes, she could easily earn the role of a sun goddess in a Greek musical production. Her skin is darker than mine, moving shadows and obsidian. The contrast makes the soft pink of her dress stand out against her tall, womanly figure. There’s a graceful sway to her hips and a motherly tenderness in the way she touches Niko and signs for her not to run.
I feel numb when I see her. And I wonder if it’s my body going into protection mode. As if some part of me senses the tidal wave of crap that’s about to hit me and every fiber of my being is trying to delay it for one second longer.
Sazuki steps in front of me protectively.
What is he trying to protect me from? I doubt he even knows.
None of us know.
This situation is new.
But it’s what I’ve chosen.
I chose him.
Which means I chose this weird, tangled connection to his ex-wife too.
I come back to myself and step away from Sazuki’s protection. Niko’s eyes are on me and I don’t want her to be confused by adult things.
I kneel. The bottom of my knee scrapes the hard, uncomfortable tarmac, but I keep the discomfort from my face when she wraps her arms around my neck.
I close my eyes and, for a second, everything feels normal again.
Niko hugs me tightly.
I rock her back and forth, inhaling her little girl scent.
My heart quivers.
I don’t know how or when, but I fell in love with her long before I fell for her father.
She releases me and points to her hair. It’s braided. Long, neat plaits with beads at the ends.
I smile. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you,” she signs.
“I wanted her to have a proper hairstyle.” Ashanti looks down on me. “The style she had before was a little… unsophisticated.” The emphasis on ‘unsophisticated’ is clear.
The smile on my face turns brittle, but I force myself not to take her words to heart. For one thing, those words might not have been aimed at me. For another, if I take everything she says personally, she’ll have all the power to manipulate my emotions.
I hate giving up control.
Especially to people who would love to see me squirm.
Inhaling deeply, I wrap an arm around Niko’s shoulders and then slide my hand around Sazuki’s waist. Ashanti’s face tightens when she sees me sidling up to her ex-husband and her daughter.
Wonderful.
“Who is this?” I look up at Sazuki, smiling innocently even though I know good and well who is standing across from us.
Sazuki studies my eyes for a moment.
I blink up at him frankly, unashamed.
This is his choice.
He chose a college student with a penchant for getting even.
I arch an eyebrow, daring him to call me out. Instead, he gives me a hot look that warns, had it not been for his daughter and his regal decorum keeping him in check, he would have kissed me harder than he did on the plane.
“Let me introduce myself. My name is Ashanti Miller. I’m Niko’s mother.”
“I’m Dejonae Wiliams, Sazuki’s girlfriend.”
Her lips tighten. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“All good things, right?”
“Mostly.” She brushes her dress down with a hint of distaste.
I don’t let her little dig get to me.
Niko tugs my hand. “Can you stay with us?” she signs.
“Oh right.” An oily smile spreads across Ashanti’s face. “Did you ask her about dinner, Sazuki?” Her smugness thickens. “I told him to invite you over during breakfast this morning.”
They’re having breakfast together?
My nostrils flare as an image of Sazuki, his legs entangled with Ashanti’s under the table, sipping coffee and feeding each other pancakes, flits through my mind.
If they were having breakfast, then what were they doing before breakfast.
More images assault me.
Sazuki’s eyes burning. Ashanti digging her fingers into his hair. The tangle of their legs and then their lips…
I struggle not to let my disgust show.
Sazuki’s fingers dig into my shoulder as if he wishes to anchor me to his body. It’s not enough.
I thought I could do this.
I really did.
But I don’t want to be a petty person. This small conversation is just a taste of what interacting with Ashanti will be like. And I don’t like myself when I feel small or when I try to make others feel small.
I look up at Sazuki.
He understands without me saying a word. “I will take Dejonae home. I kept her out all day.”
Niko pushes out her bottom lip. She signs, “Please.”
Why is she so cute?
I have one—and only one—weakness.
And I think it’s this little girl.
With a sigh, I give in to her. “Okay.”
Sazuki looks alarmed. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah.”
Adam and Nova descend the stairs and see our little dramatic reunion.
“Hey, Niko.” Adam greets the little girl warmly.
She gives him a shy wave.
Nova’s eyebrows furrow when she notices Ashanti. “Who’s this?”
“I’m Niko’s mother.” The wind tugs a lock of Ashanti’s brown hair. It dances elegantly.
“Niko’s… mother?” Nova’s eyes stray to me.
Heat burns my cheeks. Given the way Sazuki and I were making out on the plane, it makes sense that she’d have questions about why his ex-wife is suddenly showing up in front of us like we’re one big happy family.
Ashanti gives both Adam and Nova bright smiles. “Would you like to join us for dinner?”
The two exchange looks.
A world of ideas seems to pass in that one, silent exchange.
If I were in my right mind, I’d find it funny how into each other they so obviously are.
Adam hasn’t taken his eyes off Nova all day. They keep things professional on the surface—no touching or flirting or even prolonged eye contact—but he’s always there to give her exactly what she wants, meeting her needs before she expresses them, and caving to her when she has an idea.
Sazuki said that Nova was working for Adam.
But in reality, it feels like Adam is the one who’s taking care of Nova.
“We’re going to bow out on this one,” Adam says finally. His eyes dart to Nova before jumping to me. He raises his eyebrows in a brotherly gesture, as if to say need an out?
If even they can feel the awkwardness, then maybe I’m not doing a good job of hiding my feelings.
I shake my head. I already promised Niko.
Adam smiles. “We’ll head back now. There’s still some details to work through with the MTB’s programming.”
Sazuki lifts a hand. “Don’t work too hard.”
“You too.”
Adam and Nova head in the opposite direction.
Sazuki glances at Ashanti. “Did you drive?”
“We called an Uber.” She watches him with soft eyes. “Can we catch a ride with you? Your mom said Akira would drop a car off.”
He nods in agreement.
Ashanti smiles.
There’s something behind that smile.
Something I don’t like at all.
Sazuki turns to me. His eyes do not falter when they meet mine.
I give him a little smile of assurance.
I’m okay.
I’m not going to melt like the Wicked Witch of the West because I share the same vehicle with his ex-wife.
This is going to be awkward.
But it’s not going to be life-threatening.
I don’t think.
He dips his chin in understanding. I don’t know if he’s reverted to Silent Sazuki because of the tension or because he genuinely has nothing to say. Thankfully, I have Niko to distract me from the not-so-subtle drama.
We sign nonstop on our way to the car.
Once we get to the giant SUV, Sazuki opens the front door for me.
“Oh, you don’t mind if I take the front seat, do you?” Ashanti wiggles in between me and Sazuki. She launches one foot on the runner. “It’s so much roomier.” She gestures to her legs. “I’m a little tall, you know.”
My lips part, but it’s not to speak. It’s to release a frustrated breath.
How am I supposed to say no to her now? If I do, I’m going to look petty.
“Ashanti,” Sazuki starts to intervene.
I hold up a hand. “It’s fine. You can take the front seat. Niko and I were talking anyway.” I loop my arm around hers. “Us shorties should stick together.”
She laughs and signs, “Definitely.”
I buckle Niko in, making sure her seatbelt is secure before I do the same. Sazuki’s eyes find mine in the rear-view mirror.
“Stop looking. I’m fine,” I sign for only his eyes.
He focuses on the road again.
I try hard to concentrate on Niko and her recount of her day at the farmhouse with Beth, Belle, Micheal and Bailey, but Ashanti’s laughter from the front seat keeps messing with me.
“I re-printed some of Niko’s old photos so you could have your own album at the house. It was so sweet going through those old memories…”
Old memories?
Irritation blooms in my heart.
Do not get upset, Dejonae.
“Oh, Ryo.” Ashanti darts a hand out and places it on Sazuki’s arm.
My vision turns red.
Ryo? He’s ‘Ryo’?
Sazuki shakes her off, but it’s too late. I can’t un-hear the way she called to him in a sweet voice.
“I just remembered. Your mom said you needed more soy sauce. Let me run to the store real quick.”
He takes her to a store, but that isn’t enough to satisfy Ashanti.
“Ryo, can you come in with me? I don’t remember the soy sauce your mother liked.”
“Just get any one.”
“I’ll come with you,” I say, starting to undo my seatbelt. “Since I’m meeting your mom for the first time, I should probably bring something nice.”
“No need.” Ashanti holds out a hand, stopping me from moving.
I glare at her.
She smiles glibly and aims damsel-in-distress eyes at Sazuki. “Can you come with me? Please?”
Sazuki frowns.
“Come on.” Ashanti checks her watch. “There’s not enough time.”
Expression firm, he opens the car door. To my surprise, he doesn’t follow Ashanti around the car. He opens my door for me. Swooping in, he leans over me to undo my seatbelt.
His head is right against my chest.
His hair falls into his eyes, making his sharp cheekbones look softer than usual.
A burning hot desire flares in me when he pulls back and his fingers skate over my thighs.
“Come on. I will help you pick something that my mother will like,” he says.
My knees are butter but, somehow, I swing them out of the car and join him on the sidewalk.
Sazuki undoes Niko’s seatbelt and helps her out of the car too.
Ashanti waits for us on the sidewalk, her lips puckered and her foot tapping on the cement.
“Let’s go,” Sazuki says, totally unruffled.
His intense energy is making me nervous. It’s one thing for me to put Ashanti in her place, but it’s another thing entirely to feel him choose me.
Sazuki isn’t big on PDA, but he sticks close to me in the grocery store. His hand comes up to brush my back when I choose the bouquet of flowers. His hips press against mine when I bend over to choose a box of chocolates.
Whenever I look at him, he’s staring at me like he wants to devour me.
My gaze turns dark and heavy, answering his need with my own. It’s like he’s trying his best to communicate, in every way he can, that I shouldn’t be shaken. That he’s with me. That he sees only me.
And I can barely contain myself.
My pinkie locks with his when we get to the cashier. I hold on for a beat and then release him, looking down to smile at Niko as she begs her dad for candy.
Sazuki says no.
I slide the candy into my cart when he isn’t looking.
By the time we leave the store, Ashanti is seething in the front seat, Niko and I are happily snacking on our banned chocolates and my spirits are lifted.
Ashanti can try her hardest to knock me off-balance tonight.
But Sazuki’s got my back and so does Niko.
Those two are the only ones that matter.
I’m not going to let her win.
“We don’t let outdoor shoes inside,” Ashanti says, turning back to me as I step through the door. “Most Asian homes don’t.”
“Actually, not letting shoes inside isn’t an Asian thing. It’s a global thing. My grandparents don’t do it either. Something about not letting outside dirt into the house.” I sit on the bench.
Niko slides my matching pair of music-themed slippers over to me. I smile my appreciation and slip into them.
Ashanti’s eyes widen when she sees it. “Why do you have the same slippers as Niko?”
“Sazuki and Niko bought it for me when I first came over.” I rub Niko’s head. “We all have a matching pair.”
“Sazuki would never wear…” Ashanti’s mumbled words drift to nothing when Sazuki shoves his giant feet into the cheesy, plastic slides with the music note imprinted on the band.
The satisfaction that drowns me when I read the dread on Ashanti’s face proves that I have a lot more growing to do as a person.
She recovers quickly and tosses her hair over her shoulder. “I wonder if mother needs help with the filling for the gyoza.”
“Are we making dinner tonight?” I sign to Niko.
She nods.
“What’s gyoza?” I ask aloud.
“Don’t you know what gyoza is?” Ashanti sounds alarmed. When I shake my head, she pops a brow and speaks to me like I’m a child. “Gyoza are Japanese dumplings.”
“My grandmother makes the best dumplings,” Niko gestures.
“I’m excited to try it out.”
“Niko,” Sazuki signs, “go and wash up. Your hands are sticky from that candy I told you not to eat.”
Niko gives me a guilty look.
I return it in a flash.
Shoot. We’ve been found out.
“I’ll take you to wash your hands,” Ashanti says, wrapping an arm around her daughter’s shoulders.
While Niko scampers away, Sazuki folds his arms over his chest and stares at me. “Did you really think you could get away with that?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I say innocently.
His eyebrows lower in disbelief.
“We were very quiet.”
“Not quiet enough.” He holds out a hand to me.
I frown at it. “What?”
“Give me your hand. I’m sure I’ll find the evidence.”
“I licked it all off.”
He shakes the hand that’s extended to me.
Rather than give in, I reach down and pretend to wipe my hands on my white skirt. “You’ll never take me alive.”
His dimples flash.
He grabs my hand and lifts it to his face before I can ruin my dress. To my surprise, Sazuki pops my index finger into his mouth and sucks it.
My heart whips around my chest.
My vision goes white.
I can’t see anything at all except the blinding-hot image of Ryotaro Sazuki with my finger in his mouth.
Have mercy.
I’m instantly addicted to the feel of his tongue flicking against my flesh and the way his eyes pinch shut as he makes a soft ‘mm’ sound.
I jolt like he’s a stack of unleashed electricity when he pulls my finger out and presses a soft kiss to it. “Too much sugar isn’t good for you.”
He’s the one who isn’t good for me.
Or my sanity.
Or my heart.
Or my body.
“Sazuki,” I rasp his name like it’s a magic spell.
Sazuki takes my hand and gives it a squeeze. “I am sorry.”
“That we aren’t alone right now?” I whisper.
The smile he flashes is brief and wolfish. Then it fades. “I am sorry about Ashanti.”
I’m still blindsided by what he just did with my finger, so it takes me a minute to catch up with the conversation.
“Um who?”
The dimples make a second appearance.
I can’t believe he’s mine.
This has to be some crazy dream.
Sazuki taps my forehead. “Ashanti.”
Oh right.
Ashanti.
His ex-wife.
Major douche-canoe who’s trying to one-up me in The Who Belongs With Sazuki Olympics.
“Is the solution simply to kiss you until you are dazed enough to make it through a meal?”
I blink rapidly. “No, no that’s not a good idea.”
I’m beginning to crave this man.
If he touches me like that again, I won’t just be in a daze. I’ll be a wet heap of need that’ll have to be sopped off the floor with a Swiffer Jet.
And how am I supposed to face his daughter after that?
I force myself to remain on task. “You don’t have to apologize. In a way, I kind of get where she’s coming from. Niko’s her daughter and yet this random woman is suddenly in her life. This is weird for all of us.”
“You are being gracious.”
I scowl. “I didn’t finish. Just because I understand doesn’t mean I approve. There’s a line and I think she’s inching over it.”
“I do not understand why she is behaving this way.” A crease appears between Sazuki’s brow.
“Isn’t she married?” I ask. “I think you told me that she had a husband who was also a singer?”
“She does.”
Weird. The way Ashanti looks at Sazuki is not like a woman who has an entire husband at home.
“I will speak to her,” Sazuki says quietly.
“It’s okay.” I run my hands down his lean but muscular arms. “I can handle her.”
“It is not just her I am worried about.”
Before I can ask what he means, an Asian woman skids into our line of sight. Sazuki straightens and puts a decent amount of space between us.
I smile charmingly and extend the chocolate and flowers I bought from the grocery store. “Mrs. Sazuki, hi. It’s so nice to finally meet you. I’m Dejonae Williams.”
She gives me a head-to-toe scan. “You are very young.”
Her accent is even thicker than Sazuki’s. It takes me a moment to sort through what she’s saying. The awkward pause makes the tension in the air even worse.
I laugh to break it up. “You look young as well.”
Her lips twitch, but she quickly returns to her stern expression. “Have you made dumplings before?”
“No, this will be my first time.”
“Come.” She motions to me.
Sazuki takes a step forward too.
She stops him with a fierce gaze. “Only women in the kitchen.”
“That’s an archaic philosophy,” I mumble.
Sazuki squeezes my hand and murmurs back, “Try not to say that to her.”
I scrunch my nose. “No promises.”
I’ve never been great at holding back when I feel the need to speak up. However, Sazuki’s mom is from a different time and a different culture. The last thing I want to do is come off as argumentative when I’m supposed to be making a good impression.
Just can it for one night, Dejonae.
I force a smile and follow Sazuki’s mother into the kitchen. Niko isn’t there, which makes me feel bereft. She would have been a friendly face in the middle of this cold war.
The ladies lift their eyes and spear me with sharp looks.
I cough. “How can I help?”
“Come. I will show you.” She sits me down around the table and proceeds to give me the quickest dumpling tutorial ever.
I’m lost and have the burning urge to ask ‘what was step one again’? But both Ashanti and Sazuki’s mother settle in to make their dumplings and I don’t want to look like the clueless one.
I’m surprised by the way silence falls on the kitchen. There’s no music and no conversation. I guess everyone is concentrating, but I’m not used to interactions like this.
With my parents and Yaya, there’s always someone laughing, talking, teasing and trading stories about their day.
With Vanya and Hadyn, the teasing and joking is multiplied.
Even though I haven’t been around Sunny, Kenya, and Dawn for long, the few times I were, I saw how tightly-knit and vocal their group was.
Don’t even get me started on their kids.
Those little critters have no filters, especially when they’re playing games with each other.
But every family is different.
I square my shoulders, determined to work on my dumplings without asking for help.
“What are you doing?” Sazuki’s mom explodes at me. “Do not do it like that.” She points to my dumpling. “Too much. Too much. Why are you doing it like that?”
I panic and throw the filling out. “Sorry.”
“No, do not put it back here.” She frowns at me.
“Dejonae, you have to put just the right amount.” Ashanti’s smile is gentle but her tone holds way too much condescension for it to be genuine. “Not too much. Not too little. Just right.”
“Just… right…” I concentrate on adding the filling back to my wanton wrapper.
“It’s kind of like life,” Ashanti says, her voice a buzzing in my ear.
I cringe.
Why did I complain about the silence? Now I wish she’d just shut up.
But she keeps talking in that steady tone. “Not everything that walks in is the right fit. Some things are too big, too small.” She plops the perfect amount of filling in, showing off her skills. “It takes a special person to be ‘just right’.”
I don’t respond to her. If I do, I’d probably make an even more damaging first impression on Sazuki’s mom.
The wrapper is thin in my hand and keeps breaking.
The filling is raw.
I’m not sure if we should be cooking it or not before we put them into the gyoza wrappers. I don’t see Ashanti or Sazuki’s mom doing so and figure I’m okay.
When we’re done, Sazuki’s mom cooks the dumplings in a skillet until they’re golden brown.
The smell lures Niko into the kitchen.
“How did yours come out?” she signs.
“I think it came out well,” I sign back.
Sazuki soon follows, his nose in the air. “Almost done?”
“Yes.” Ashanti laughs and pats his hand. “You always were a sucker for gyoza. Remember when we first got married? That was the first recipe you wanted me to learn.”
Sazuki’s eyes dart to me.
I look away, a burning feeling in my chest.
She won’t get to me. She won’t get to me.
“Yes,” Sazuki’s mom says, “he has liked gyoza since he was a boy. At that time, we used to make enough gyoza for a full meal. He even asked for it on his birthday.”
“Oh, I know. When we were in Japan, I wanted to buy him a fancy gift for his birthday, and he told me not to bother. That he’d just eat gyoza and be happy.” Ashanti laughs until her eyes squeeze shut. “I got so angry at him because I wanted to do something big and he was asking for so little.”
The muscles in my jaw clench and unclench.
It’s their past.
Their history.
And it’s what resulted in Niko’s birth.
I don’t want to be jealous of it.
I don’t want to be the immature, younger girlfriend who can’t take a joke.
But I can’t hide how upset I feel.
Sazuki clears his throat. “We are hungry now. I will help you move the trays to the kitchen.”
We settle around the table and all the gyoza gets separated into trays. I notice that Ashanti and Niko are eating the tray from Sazuki’s mother.
And Sazuki is gobbling Ashanti’s dumplings like he’s a dying man with his last meal.
My gyoza remains at the end of the table, untouched.
Sazuki slows down long enough to come up for air. He touches my hand. “Are you not hungry?”
“I’m okay.” I drum up a smile for him.
Ashanti observes us with her hawk eyes and then she leans forward. “Sazuki, why don’t you try this one?”
My eyes whip up.
Ashanti shoves my plate at Sazuki. He fetches one of my dumplings with his chopsticks and chews.
“Now,” Ashanti says mischievously, “out of all these plates, which one do you like the most?”
“I like this one!” Niko points to her grandmother’s dumplings.
“I like this one.” Sazuki juts his chopstick at Ashanti’s tray.
My smile remains pinned on my face, but it’s only because of my pride. Chaos blows through my mind. Sazuki prefers his ex-wife’s plate. Does he miss her cooking too? What if he misses more than that? Her kisses? Her lovemaking? Her face in his bed in the morning?
My pulse picks up steam.
Anger rears its ugly head.
Irrational.
Uncontrollable.
I set my chopsticks down and it hits the table with a thunk. Sazuki looks over at me. His eyes scan my face as he accepts the beaming look of doom that I give him.
In a second, it clicks.
He lunges for the untouched tray at the end of the table and sets it in front of him.
“Son, what are you doing?”
Sazuki doesn’t answer. He stuffs his face with my gyoza, shoving dumpling after dumpling in his mouth like a human vacuum.
“Is it that good?” Niko signs.
I shrug.
She spears one with her chopsticks. I do too.
As we eat, both of us scrunch our noses.
“I don’t like this one,” Niko signs.
“Me either.” I cough and reach for my water. “There’s not enough meat in there. It’s too dry.”
“I think it’s delicious,” Sazuki says, his bottom lip trembling.
Ashanti gives him a stunned look.
Sazuki’s mother seems equally confused.
As an awkward silence settles on the room, I tilt my head back and burst out laughing. Niko giggles, her eyes darting between me and her father.
Sazuki’s eyes widen. He still hasn’t swallowed any of the dumplings yet.
Poor thing.
“Spit it out, Sazuki.” I get a napkin and gesture to him.
But he refuses.
He swallows my dry dumplings with a giant gulp of water and proceeds to polish off everything in the tray.
Abruptly, he gets up.
His chair scrapes behind him.
Every head launches in his direction.
“I need to go to the bathroom,” Sazuki announces.
“Why are you telling us?” His mother frowns.
“Dejonae, come with me.”
“Me?”
“Yes.” He wipes his mouth with a napkin, drops it forcefully into his plate and leads me down the hallway.
Once the bathroom door is closed, his eyes slide over my face. “I do not know what to say. My mother…” His nostrils flare and he taps his chest. “I want to protect you, but I do not want to disrespect her. It might be better to leave.”
“I’m not going to run away. If I plan to stay with you, I might as well get used to these awkward dinners now.”
His eyes darken. Sazuki backs me up against the sink and cages me between his arms. His desire smothers me, filling in all the places that his body can’t reach.
“I will speak to Ashanti. My mother is one thing. But I will not have her disrespect you.”
He’s so soft with his family, with his mother and daughter.
I forgot how sharp he could be.
It makes me want to grab his face and suck the life out of it.
“Watch me take care of myself, hm?” I arch a brow.
He nods.
We leave the bathroom together.
Everyone has moved to the living room and they swivel to watch us.
“Niko,” I sign, “now that dinner’s over, how about we play for your grandmother?”
Niko brightens and nods.
Sazuki’s mother looks confused. I wonder if she doesn’t understand ASL.
“Niko and her teacher have been working on a song,” I explain, walking around to the piano Sazuki keeps in his living room.
Niko takes the bench beside me, her face beaming with excitement.
I press my fingers to the keys.
She does too.
Together, we play Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata, capturing the texture and loveliness of the piece.
I sway to the rhythm.
Niko bends her head close to the keys as if drawn by a magnetic frequency. Together, we let the music fill us, leaning more on the feeling even as we accurately play the notes.
When we’re done, Niko gives me a hug.
Sazuki winks in approval.
His mother has tear-filled eyes.
I look over at Ashanti and I see the storm cloud over her face. She’s starting to realize something that most people overlook.
It’s not just blood that binds a family together.
And though I may not have given birth to Niko, I’m here to stay.
