“This is where we’re meeting your Mother?” My neck cranked out the window, mouth wide open. The build was decorated with expensive people with high-priced and cataloged bodies. The only other colored person her was the bell boy. Not for someone like me to be seen. What is he thinking?

“Yeah, Denise has…exquisite taste.” The car died and he ran his hand trough his golden locks. Fear bubbled in my stomach,

“Not happening! Joseph, I don’t belong in there!” I hissed, teeth making friction in my mouth. “Do you now what they do to people of color?”

“Mary, you have just as much right to go in there as I do to go to your house. It’s just one simple dinner. I don’t care what anyone thinks of us, just that you and I love each other. We both don’t want to go meet Denise but we can’t keep avoiding her.”

“She’s not going to approve of me! I know she’s just going to ridicule me and treat me like I’m not a human being.” Chocolate fingers gripped my flowery dress mother had made me. An elegant rock on my left ring finger sparkled from the street lights.

“Mary, please. She may not be the best of people but she is still my mother.” His strong hands caressed my face, our eyes making contact. “Why can’t I have the two most important women in my life together for just one night?” His honey eyes bore into my soul. “Please, just for tonight.”

Sighing softly, I nodded and he returned a smile. The lobby was decorated with the best of the best furniture and bell boys were pressed to perfection. The lights made the walls looks as if they were made of gold; not that I have seen any real gold. We made our way toward the restaurant adjacent to the bar. The restaurant was bustling, with a woman in the middle of the room by herself. Her blond hair glistened around her aged worn face. Light eyes were unnoticeable by the smoke from her Virginia Slims. She was Cruella De’vil personified.

“Oh, darling!” She gave him a bear hug around his neck. Joseph’s hands morphed into two circles full of fingers. “I knew you would come, but I didn’t think you would bring…company.” Crimson lips gave an outline to the exposed fangs. Eagle eyes followed me as Joseph pulled my seat out for me. He sat next to me and adjacent to his mother.

“Thank you for coming, Denise. There’s something I need to talk to you about.” He shifted, resting his hand onto my leg. Blood pounded in my ears and his palm became warm.

“Oh, yes. I know but first, why don’t we order our food?” Hands waved and the waiter became a tornado to reach us. We all ordered something and were silent till the waiter gave us our drinks. Cruella took a drag of her cancer stick; clouds of smoke twisted in the air, reaching for the sky. “Now what is it, Darling?”

“Denise,” Joseph straightened like a stick. “Mary and I are getting married.” Her placid face turned into a red sea of hatred and anger. Her nails grew into claws and her body seemed to turn spider-like.

“You are WHAT?!” The harpy screamed glass shattering to the floor.

“We’re getting married. I proposed to Tanya two months ago; the same night as the Art Opening in Manhattan. We’re to be married on the eighth next month.” Cold honey eyes stared at the vial creature that he called Mother.

“No! I will not accept this! You’re father would never of had allowed you to marrying black ghetto trash like her!” Her cigarette burned through the table cloth, leaving a mark of its power.

“Don’t bring my father into this! He had loved Tanya before he died and he even said that he would love to her be his daughter-in-law! He believed that everyone, no matter the color, was equal and so do I!” Joseph plucked me off my chair, wrapping his arm around me. “I am getting married to Mary and you will have only two choices: accept her as the love of my life and my wife or never come near either of us again.”

“I will NEVER accept this!” She vociferated, grabbing the attention of all the workers in the room. Eyes stared and bodies motioned to invisible strings of curiosity.

“Then this is goodbye!” We stormed out, the stares burning holes in our backs. Outside the streets were coated with fliers. People who blended into the night gathered around the concrete, yelling at the top of their lungs. Then, men with badges stormed the crowds as dogs barked and water soared.
Joseph pulled my arm and we both ran. We were running from the storm and for our love.

"There are no ‘white’ or ‘colored’ signs on the foxholes or graveyards of battle."
-John Fitzgerald Kennedy