By the time Leo has pulled himself out of his mile-high nap, I’ve worked myself up into a lather that not only will I be the only Black person at the West family dinner table, but for all I know, I may be the only Black person in Nebraska.
“Leo, Leo, wake up.” I’m poking my man to bring him out of hibernation under the guise of putting his seat back up. “I forgot to ask you. Do they have Black people in Nebraska?”
“No, Nina, you’re the first. Tomorrow there will be a coronation on the capitol steps. I think the governor’s going to give you a scepter or a key or something. I hope you brought a nice dress to wear,” Leo says, stretching his arms out wide then picking my hand back up for landing.
“Nina, it’s so good to meet you!” Leo’s dad, Curtis, booms, pulling me in for a bear hug before he’s finished his sentence. Leo’s face reads, I told you. “Aren’t you a lovely looking lady. Leo, how were you able to land this fine woman when you’re as funny looking as me?” Mr. West keeps me tucked under one arm as he puts his other out to shake his son’s hand and bring him in for an equally hearty embrace.
“Truck’s parked not too far away. Got a new one, Leo. Since this is probably the last car of my life, your mom let me get that midnight-blue double cab Chevy I’ve always wanted. I look good in it running your mother’s errands like coming here to fetch you.” Two identical laughs barrel out of Leo and Mr. West.
“Dad’s always the one to pick everyone up at the airport. If Mom comes, she spends the entire time complaining about how the airport gouges you at ten bucks an hour for short-term parking.” Father and son nod in agreement on a lifelong quirk about the missus.
“That woman does not part with money easily, don’t you know it. Let’s get a move on. You two have more bags other than what you’re lugging with you?” Mr. West asks, surveying our efficient rolling suitcases.
“We’re good to go.” I smile, reaching for my handle.
“Leo, grab Nina’s suitcase and be the man I taught you to be.” I’m liking Mr. West straight away. “Your mom’s so happy you’re home, she’s been fussing around the house cooking and cleaning all day. She’s making your favorite stollen cake right now. Wants me to call her when we’re about ten minutes away. If our arrival home is not perfectly timed with that stollen coming out of the oven, we may have to circle the block a couple of times.” Though Marisol wants running commentary on the trip, I’m not telling her she was right and Mother West not coming to the airport had nothing to do with her desire to immediately ship me back to California. When Marisol gloats, it’s unbearable.
“Nina, my mom’s the Fitzroy of the Midwest. Always making sure everything is as it should be and all manners are on display,” Leo says, shaking me out of my thoughts on Marisol, genuinely trying to make a connection between our two families. I refrain from pointing out one difference, Fitzroy’s never ridden in a double cab.
“MOM!” Leo throws open the door from the garage into the kitchen. Emily West is at the sink looking exactly the same as every picture I’ve ever seen of her. Dark wool pants to stave off the winter cold and a cheery-red sweater set that I bet she owns in rotating colors for changing seasons. Her bottle-blonde hair is pulled into a perfect bun that I suspect has not moved since being sprayed into place earlier this morning.
“My BOY!” Out go the arms and in goes Leo. They’re hopping around in their tight embrace, a party for two leaving me feeling self-conscious if I should enter the kitchen or wait in the garage until I’m invited inside. Mr. West is busy with a chamois cloth, wiping down dirty snow crystals that have mucked up his truck from the round trip, seemingly having forgotten about me. Leaving a guest hanging would never fly in our house. Celia raised me to know you always introduce anyone new first, a proper welcome is expected, and a feeling of comfort on behalf of the guest is the number one priority. You take care of family second. I guess that’s not common etiquette in corn country.
“Leo, are you going to introduce me to your friend?” I blink in surprise. I’m carrying your grandchild and your son has been begging me to live with him, and the most you consider me is a friend?
“Nina, this is my mom, Emily West. Mom, this is the fabulous Nina Morgan Clarke.” Leo flashes a proud smile that makes me feel welcomed in his boyhood home and thaws my concerns just a bit. The tension in my neck releases slightly and my shoulders drop back into place as I put my hand out to greet the matriarch.
“Nice to meet you, Mrs. West. Leo talks about you all so much.” I can hear myself slip into my practiced administrator voice. Leo looks at me, not recognizing the formal tone coming out of his friend’s mouth.
“Oh Nina, please, call me Emily. And I hope that old fuddy duddy out in the garage invited you to call him Curtis. Sometimes he’s a stickler for old-school ways.”
I relax my smile a bit. “I have a father who would see eye to eye with Curtis,” I offer, keeping the conversation light.
“Oh yes, does he spend too much time hunting and watching golf on TV, too?” Emily laughs as she gestures to Leo to take my jacket. Not in a million years, I think to myself.
“Sounds like tonight’s going to be a lot of fun. Leo says things can get a little rowdy when all his cousins come around.”
“Oh, they certainly can, but I think this evening everyone will be on their best behavior with you as the guest of honor. We can’t remember a time since law school that Leo’s brought a girl home, so I think curiosity has the best of all of us. Nancy’s called me twice asking what she should wear.” Emily smiles, and I can tell she thinks she’s paid me a compliment, but the former science teacher in me recognizes the setup for dissecting a specimen. I’m the frog in tonight’s lab.
Marisol 6:12 PM
You landed three hours ago, no text, WTF?! I stopped by your house to check on Fitzroy. You’ll be happy to know he’s not pining over your absence. House was dark. Speaking of dark, how’s Operation Mixed Baby going?
Nina 6:13 PM
I rode in a truck for the first time in my life. And Emily, Leo’s mom, offered me one of those chunky wool sweaters that looks like there might be twigs in it. She said it was to keep me warm, but I’m thinking it’s to hide my baby bump so there’s no evidence Leo and I had sex out of wedlock.
Marisol 6:15 PM
Well, that’s two Wests who wish you were married.
Nina 6:16 PM
Gotta go, I was just summoned for the first Nina viewing.
Marisol 6:18 PM
Leo put up with your people over Christmas. You do him right by embracing his midwestern brand of crazy. Hear me?!??!
Nina 6:19 PM
Don’t want to but I hear you. You LOUD as hell.
“Let me grab that tray for you,” I offer and jump up as Emily tries to balance an oversize plate of sliced flank steak in one hand and serve her nephews with the other. The cousins are occupied recounting stories of West family adventures from their shared past while keeping eyes peeled for spills as the assembled youngest generation grabs for cheese slices and baby carrots. Even Leo is lost in tales of failed childhood fort building and holiday fireworks with Karl. Apparently, it’s still hilarious, thirty years later, the time they almost burned down the neighbor’s house with homemade bottle rockets.