Courtship: A 'Snowflake' Novel by Forrester Nia & Forrester Nia

Author:Forrester, Nia & Forrester, Nia [Forrester, Nia]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Stiletto Press, LLC
Published: 2019-12-09T16:00:00+00:00

~~~

Timothy Green, Jada’s father, reminded Ibrahim of a school principal. He had the probing eyes of someone who knew you were lying to them but hadn’t quite figured out about what. When he entered the room and was introduced, Ibrahim saw him size everything up; not only Ibrahim himself, but the way he stood next to Jada, how close he was, how her body seemed to orient ever-so-slightly in his direction.

Ibrahim would later swear that in those first few moments, Timothy Green had seen some version of his daughter’s future that included the young man in his front room; and he hadn’t much liked it. But he was polite, if a little reserved, and gripped Ibrahim’s hand firmly when they shook, eyes never leaving his face.

He looked back at the older man just as attentively, seeing the slight wave in his hair, the hook of his nose with the flared nostrils, and the red undertone of his skin. Indian, or part Indian, Ibrahim guessed. It might have accounted for the jet-blackness of Jada’s hair, the hint of burnt sienna in her skin.

Her mother, whose name was Dinah, had the placid face and serene demeanor of a woman well-loved and taken care of. Her hair, like Jada’s was long and thick and dark. She restrained it at the nape of her neck in a bun that seemed comprised of several braids, wrapped and intertwined with each other. Her blouse and skirt ensemble were plain and topped with a light cardigan. She not only looked like Claire Huxtable, she gave Ibrahim the same benevolent smile that Claire Huxtable always bestowed on the friends of the Cosby kids. He liked her right away, and felt right away that she was leaning in the direction of liking him.

“What movie are you planning to see?” she asked, when the introductions were done.

“Sea of Love,” Jada supplied. “Al Pacino.”

“Ah,” Mrs. Green said, nodding. “He’s very good. Everything he’s in is pretty good.”

“What time does it start?” Mr. Green asked.

Even that innocuous question sounded like a test.

“Four-thirty, sir,” Ibrahim said.

“So you should be back when? About eight?”

Jada laughed. “Daddy, no. We might hang out after that. I’ll be home by curfew.”

Mr. Green said nothing.

“I’ll have her back probably even before that, sir,” Ibrahim said.

Jada told him that her curfew was midnight, but he figured it was better to err on the side of the conservative this first time he came to formally take her out. He had no doubt that whatever hour he got Jada back home, her father would be there, checking the clock.

“You kids have a good time,” Mr. Green finally said. He turned away a little one shoulder pointing in the direction of the kitchen, indicating without words that his inspection was concluded and that they were free to go.

“Thank you, sir. You both have a good afternoon.”

As they were leaving, Jada reached for her pocketbook with one hand, and with the other, she reached for Ibrahim’s hand. He saw her parents take note of the gesture and tightened his hand about hers as they turned to go.

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