The Little Black Book

“Grandma, why does grandpa write in that little black book every day?” My sweet granddaughter, Angie, asked. “Well Angie, it’s kind of a long story,” I said, hopeful that she would want to know more. Angie responded, “I’d love to hear it.” I smiled, “well sweetie, in order to explain the book I’d have to explain how your grandfather and I met and fell in love.” She nodded her head with excitement in her eyes which warmed my heart. So I began:

“I was 19 years old the day I met your grandfather. Neither one of us went to college. We went directly into the workforce. I was very hardworking. To think, I almost missed that brunch for work… Well I am so glad I paid attention to that alarm.” [Flash back begins]

 RINGGGGGG!! The alarm on my phone blares and I reluctantly halt my work to figure out what’s going on. I finally reach my phone to read the reminder going across my screen and, the realization hits me like a ton of bricks. I’m supposed to have brunch with the girls in an hour! I rescheduled so many times for work already. I have to go. I sprint to my closet; they instructed me to dress up a bit. They specifically said, “not your normal leggings, t-shirt, and comfy non-slip sneakers.”

I’m thick so I have curves but I also have the thick thighs and belly to match. I am in the early stages of my journey to self-love and self-acceptance. I recognize that I’m not the standard of beauty but I am beautiful. I want to love my whole self, stretch marks and all.

After I shower, get dressed, put my hair in a high puff, and lay my edges. I grab my things and head to the restaurant. As I enter the revolving door from outside of the restaurant, a man enters the revolving door from inside. He’s over 6ft with a mocha complexion similar to my own, a fresh fade, brown eyes, clean cut beard and mustache, full lips, broad shoulders, and his body is lean and muscular similar to the build of a basketball player. After I scan his body my eyes meet his, I immediately feel flushed. Hoping that he didn’t just see me shamelessly body check him. He smiles as if he knows what I am thinking. I quickly look away then step out of the revolving door into the restaurant.

I’m probably overthinking it. He’s too fine to be single, and if he is single, then he’s a player. I need to drop it. I start walking towards the hostess, trying to shake off whatever just happened. Then I hear a deep voice behind me gently saying, “excuse me.” I slowly turn around to see the sexy stranger looking deep into my eyes again. After a second or two I snap out of the daze.

Me: I’m sorry, am I in your way?

Sexy Stranger: No, not at all. I actually wanted ask you to dinner.

I stare blankly at him for a moment, stunned by the request.

Sexy Stranger: I’m sorry, I realize I didn’t introduce myself, I’m Malik. What’s your name?

Me: I’m Shay.

Malik: Shay, would you like to go on a date with me?

Me: You don’t even know me

Malik: I’d like to change that

His eyes look so sincere as he searches mine for an answer.

Me: Okay

I give him my number before we return to our respective friend groups. Things like that never happen to me. I’ve dated before but it’s always either friendships that developed into more or guys on dating apps. Butterflies filling my belly in anticipation and I feel like I am floating with them. It’s so weird! I literally just met him and I barely said a sentence to this man… I need to calm down. He texts me a few minutes into the brunch so that I can save his number and I’m in my head for the rest of the brunch.

The days fly by and next thing I know, it’s a week later. It’s time for our first date. We texted, talked on the phone and even facetimed daily since then and the more I learn about him the more interested and comfortable I become. However, I’m NERVOUS for this date. I told him that Italian food is my favorite so he’s going to take me to a fancy Italian restaurant downtown.

I’m wearing black flats and a strapless black dress that only hugs my chest and is flowy with a high-low bottom. I RARELY do make up so I’m not wearing any for this date either, I don’t want to set a false precedent. I wear my natural hair down and wear some earrings. He’s still technically a stranger, so I’ll be meeting him at the restaurant. I check myself in the mirror one last time before I leave and I’m satisfied with the results.

When I get to the restaurant, he’s standing at the entrance in a grey suit with a black button up shirt next to the valet. As I pull up to the entrance, he approaches my car door and opens it. I explain, “Hey Malik, I am going to park myself.” He reaches for my hand and says, “I already paid for the valet, so if you are comfortable leaving your car here, they’ll park it for you.”

Surprised that he paid for my valet parking and more than that, that he’s approaching me in a way that’s still respecting whatever boundaries that I may set. I agree. I rest my hand in his while my other hand grabs my purse. As I stand, in a hushed tone he says, “By the way, you’re gorgeous Shay.” I thank him and smile as I follow him to our table and pulls out my chair. Once we are both comfortable in our seats, we order our drinks.

Malik: So I know that you work as an editor for a publishing company and that you’re a novelist

Me: Well, the title novelist implies that I’ve published novels and that isn’t true yet. But I’ve written one and I’m working on my second

Malik: Shay, you wrote a novel! That isn’t a small feat; don’t sell yourself short. You’ll be a published author soon. I know it.

Me: That’s a lot of confidence from someone who hasn’t even read my work

I chuckle.

Malik: Although my day job is in the corporate world, you know I’m an artist. So I understand how vulnerable it can be to have someone view your art. So whenever you feel comfortable showing me your work, I would love to read it.

I feel flushed again and nod my head with a smile that I tried to fight. The entire evening is full of laughter and even has moments of depth. We have such a healthy balance of enjoying each other’s company while being unafraid to have the heavier conversations. After we eat, he asks me to give him a moment and I agree. Then he pulls out this little black book, scribbles something in it, then sticks it back in his pocket. That’s weird, but I guess it’s none of my business. He is an artist, maybe it’s one of those ‘when inspiration strikes’ moments. I brush it off and we enjoy the rest of the date. It feels very natural with him.

He walks me to the front and tips the valets after they get our cars. We reach to hug and I normally don’t like to kiss on the first date but it feels right. I like him, probably more than I should after a week. I want him to kiss me. As we begin to release each other from the hug, he searches my eyes for permission. I quickly look down at his lips and back to his eyes a few times to subtly give him an answer. He leans in and kisses me and I got so lost in that kiss that I forgot where I was. For a moment, it felt like it was just me and him. I’m in trouble...

We talked every day since then. On our second date, he asked me to be his girlfriend which sounds crazy but the even crazier thing is I felt comfortable enough to say yes. We went on several more dates. On every date, at some point, he would pull out that little black notebook and write something. The closer we got, the more intrigued I was by this book.

At first, I didn’t know him well enough to ask but now we have been together for six months. In that short span of time he has become someone irreplaceable in my life. So I feel like it wouldn’t be overstepping to ask. We are in my apartment watching a show on my couch.

Me: Babe, what are you always writing in that book?

Malik: What book?

Me: That little black book, you keep on you.

Malik: Oh, that book. I’ll tell you about it one day, but not yet.

Me: Oh… Okay…

He can see the obvious disappointment and hurt in my face.

Malik: Babe, I promise that I will let you read this one day, but it’s not time yet. For now, I need you to just trust me and I will show you when I am ready, okay?

Me: Okay, I understand. We talk about everything, so the secrecy was starting to get to me more than I realized.

Malik: I love you Shay and I swear it will all make sense soon.

Me: I love you Malik

I didn’t ask again. Two months later, we moved in together. There were a few times that I was tempted to look for that little black book that he still writes in daily but I never do. I have to respect his boundaries just as much as he always respects mine.

On our first anniversary, we went back to that Italian restaurant that we went to on our first date. He proposed to me that night and I said yes! It was one of the best moments of my life. We decided to give ourselves six months to plan the wedding. We wanted to get married soon and we wanted it to be elegant but intimate.

Today is our wedding day and every moment with him that has led to this day has been nothing short of magical so I expected nothing less today. I know there is that superstition about the bride and groom not seeing each other until the wedding but Malik and I agreed that we wanted to see each other for the first time on our wedding day privately.

After I am dressed, I text Malik and let him know that I’m ready. I kick the bridesmaids and family out of the room. Then I hear a knock on the door. I brace myself then I open the door. He stands in front of me with tears in his eyes and I run into his arms. He lifts me and carries me to the couch. I look up to the ceiling trying to keep the tears from falling and ruining my makeup.

Malik grabs my hand and I look into his eyes as he says, “Before we say anything, I want to give you my gift.” Then he reaches in the pocket of his tux to pull out the little black book. He says, “Shayla Vanessa Green I love you with everything that I am. I knew from the moment I met you that this day would come. So every day since the day that we met, I have written one reason that I love you in this book. I still have not managed to list them all. I’m beyond grateful that I get to spend the rest of my life writing this infinite list.”

Tears are flooding from my eyes and I grab his face to kiss him. Now I am lost in an all-consuming kiss, in an everlasting love, with a man that surpassed anything I could have ever dreamed of for myself. This kiss, much like our first kiss, making everything around me go black and I feel like the only other person in the world is Malik, my forever love. [Flash back ends]

Tears filling my eyes now, threatening to fall. My voice shakes as I say, “and your grandfather still adds to a little black book every day.” Angie sniffles, “Grandma that is the most beautiful story I have every heard! Is that why all of your novels are black books?” Malik walks in the room, sits beside me, and kisses me. I don’t understand how every kiss still feels like the first. I remember that Angie is still in the room and begin to pull away. When we finally separate, Malik’s eyes never leave mine as he says, “Yes it is Angie. It was one of the many ways that your Grandma paid homage to our love. I have known my soulmate for 57 years now and I still have not ran out of new reasons that I love her.”

*story was originally written for and submitted to a Vocal+ challenge and edited to meet the requirements of this contest. Thank you!