Page 50 of Habibi: Always and Forever

A RING FOR HIM

WENDELL BLACK

A s I marveled at the engagement ring in my hand, an impressed whistle sang from my lips. If it looked this gorgeous between my fingers under the shop's lights, I knew it would be perfect on Ernest’s finger.

“Eryn, you’ve outdone yourself this time!” I exclaimed, dapping her.

Eryn did her happy dance, her braids swaying as she stuck her tongue out.

“And did!” she cheered.

“He’s gonna love it.”

“It’s my pleasure to make it, Wen. I’m really happy for you.”

She smiled at me, her voice choking up a bit as she rounded the counter to hug me. I set the ring back in the box before hugging her.

“You’re gonna be a husband!” She giggled, bouncing on her Marten, her dark green dress danced with her.

I’m proposing to Ernest in a matter of days. Nineteen-year-old Wendell woulda have never believed this.

“He's gotta say yes first.”

“Boy, stop playing. Of course he is,” she stopped hugging me to shake me by my shoulders. “And if he’s stupid enough to say no, then Imma have to pay the nigga a visit.” She gave a devilish, innocent grin.

“I gotta ask the twins if they’ll even accept this anyway.”

“And when has a no stopped you before?”

She went behind the counter, pulling out a bottle of tequila and two shot glasses.

“Never, but that's not the point. I’m marrying Ernest if he’ll have me; that’s not a conversation.

But I know Ernest doesn’t want things to be bad between the three of us, and it matters to him.

If I can tell him that the twins and I are good, and us getting married isn’t gonna mess up anything, he’ll feel good about it. ”

She poured tequila shots and handed me one.

“To a flawless proposal.” She cheered.

“And to the twins not kicking my ass for proposing,” I said.

We shared a laugh before clicking glasses and throwing them back.

My throat burned for a second as I set the glass down.

“Fuck,” She coughed, clearing hers. “Oh, alright. Lemme get you boxed up and outta here. I want a long ass phone call and a picture, mister.”

I laughed as she put the box in a branded baby blue paper bag. Once outside and on my bike, I headed to the clubhouse. I asked the twins to meet with me in the afternoon. I found them at the roundtable.

“Elias, Elliot. How y'all been?” I greeted.

“Fuck,” Elliot cursed, pulling out his wallet and passed Elias a twenty.

“Told ya.” Elias teased.

“Told him what?” I asked.

“That if you came in using our names instead of riding names, it was bout Pops,” Elias said.

“It is about Ernest,” I said, joining them at the table.

Before they could speak, I took the box out of my pocket and set it in front of me. Elias watched as Elliot took the box and opened it.

“Dead ass? Dead ass, dead ass, Wendell? No bullshit?” Elliot asked, and Elias raised a curious eyebrow at me.

“It’s been two years. We’ve talked about it a couple of times. I’m proposing in a week,” I explained.

Despite the feeling of anxiety and vomit churning in my stomach, my voice was calm.

“Are you asking for our blessing, or telling us that you’re proposing?” Elias asked.

“I’m telling you that I’m going to propose to Ernest. I know that if Ernest knew he had your blessings, it would make him really happy,” I answered.

The twins shared their usual ‘twinning’ look. It felt like they had mind-reading powers, but only to each other. With just a glance, they’ve had a full conversation and ready to act. Even during their rough patch, they put bullshit aside and moved as a unit.

“Wendell, we weren’t fair to you when we first found out. It was fucked up. But over the past months, and hell, even before we knew, you brought life back into Pops. It’s like having a piece of him back.” Elliot explained.

“Don’t fucking push it with wanting to be called ‘unc’ and shit, but you got our blessing,” Elias said.

I let out a relieved sigh as they stood, taking turns to hug me before hyping me up about the ring.

“What you got planned? Need any help or anything?” Elias asked.

“I’m taking him to the beachfront on Saturday. Warren is gonna help with the setup.”

“Congratulations, Wendell. I’m really happy for you,” Elliot said.

Now all I had to do was propose. And more importantly, don't fuck up the proposal before Friday.

Friday came too damn quick. I kept practicing with Warren and Granny to make sure I got it perfect. Even check my posture and hold my head up. You get one chance to propose, no redos. He deserved nothing less than perfection.

I hated lying to Ernest. And fuck did E have a thousand questions on where and what we were doing on Friday.

He had a knowing look, as if he knew I was lying.

It was that instinct he never lost after becoming president.

Ernest insisted on driving in his remodeled LLW rider.

Which was a bit of a relief for me, I was too damn nervous for that.

The other nerve-racking part of proposing was the constant thought of losing the ring.

Or worse, Ernest finding it. I kept it on me at all times, worried about forgetting it or placing it somewhere he could easily find.

I’ve seen too many horror stories of losing the engagement ring before or during the proposal.

I had picked tan shorts, white shoes, and a light-colored button-down while he picked the same, but with warm brown tones.

I was in the bathroom, adding oil to my beard, when I noticed Ernest watching me in the mirror, propped against the doorway. Damn, he looked good in his tan pants and white button-down. I had just given him a retwist the other day, which pulled the fit together nicely.

“Hey,” I purred at him, washing my hands.

“Hey,” he echoed, walking to me.

He tucked his face against my neck, his arms hugging me. I could feel goosebumps as he kissed my jaw. I brought his hand to my lips to kiss before I turned.

“Y ou good, babe?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” I reassured him by patting his chest. “Ready?”

He let me go, and we headed downstairs to the car. I opened the driver's side door for him, which earned me a kiss, then got in the passenger seat. His hand caressed my upper thigh as he drove, Frankie Beverly playing through the radio.

“Talk to me, Wen, what’s up? You’ve seemed worried and distracted all day.” He asked, squeezing me there.

“Nothing, babe. I’m good.”

“Boys ain’t giving you trouble, are they?”

“Nah, nah, Ernest, I promise I’m good. We're gonna have a good time at the beach.”

I took his hand off my thigh to kiss his knuckles. Fuck, my nerves were shaking every nerve in my body.

“You would tell me if something was wrong.” He asked as he rolled out the stoplight, turning to look at me.

“I would. But nothing's wrong.”

“Wen-”

I leaned to kiss him, teasingly grazing my tongue between his lips like he loved, my hand cupping the side of his throat with a slow squeeze. When I pulled back, he blinked as a blush filled his cheeks.

“Stop fussing. Nothing is wrong, I’m not upset. We are good.”

I pecked his lips while rubbing his cheek.

“Aight, I just wanna make sure you good, babe,” he pecked my lips before proceeding with the green light.

“How’s your day?” I asked.

He didn’t answer for a few minutes, which started to worry me. Before I could repeat my questions, he squeezed my thigh and said:

“I’m thinking about retiring as mayor.”

I snapped my head to look at him in shock. Out of all the things I thought he’d say, this wasn’t even close.

“Did something happen?”

“Nah. Nothing happened, but I think I’m ready, Wen. I wanna be still, yeah, know? Enjoy some lazy mornings. I got enough to last me a lifetime tucked away. We could travel and spend time with our families. I haven’t made anything official yet. I haven’t even told the boys I thought bout it so-”

“Course, babe.” I held his hand.

It may be a sign that the best way to start his retirement would be to get engaged. It soothed the anxiousness that had been wrestling with me.

We pulled into the half-empty beach parking lot when excitement surged through my chest. Thank fuck the guys took their girls’ cars, and not their bikes.

I took the cooler by the handle with one hand and took Ernest’s with my other and walked down the concrete steps to the beach.

We walked and enjoyed the quiet, minus the loud seagulls and waves, as he searched for a spot to set up.

Ernest scanned the beach until his eyes landed on the arches, making him stop with a gasp.

The crew did a great job; it was even better in person. Here we go.

* * *

ERNEST ANDERSON

I still didn’t believe that nothing was bothering Wendell.

He was freaking out about something in his mind, but as soon as I mentioned retirement, it settled as if it were an answer he needed.

As we walked on the beach, I noticed a heart-shaped arch with small candles.

I froze, looking around to see if the newly engaged couple was nearby, but it was just us.

Wendell let go of the cooler and continued to tug me forward.

Holy fuck. He’s. . . he’s doing this. I looked at Wendell to see a mingling of nervous excitement in his eyes.

“Wen?” I breathe.

“Come on,” he said softly.

It was as if every part of me was shaking with each step forward.

“Wendell-”

My throat closed as tears spilled down my face.

“Ernest, don’t cry, I haven’t said anything yet,” he said, and then he hugged me, which I fiercely returned.

“Are you sure?” I whispered.

He pulled away, getting on one knee, and pulled a small black box from his pocket. I breathed, “Oh god,” as I held his hand tight. Fuck we were both shaking.

“E, how we got together wasn’t a magical fairytale beginning.

But in all honesty, we aren’t fairytale people.

I didn’t think you would give me a chance to change your mind, but when you did, I latched onto it.

I’ve enjoyed every dinner, every dance, every lazy, slow morning, and even the moments where all we did was laugh until my stomach hurt.

I wanna keep sharing those moments with you.

I’ve had two greatest honors in my life. And now I want to have the honor of being your husband. Will you, Ernest Anderson, marry me?”

He opened the box and found a gorgeous gold and emerald wedding ring tucked inside. I didn’t want to breathe, fearing that this was a dream I’d wake up from. Wendell had tears now welling in his eyes as he waited for me to speak.

“E breathe, babe breathe,” he said, squeezing my hand as I took a deep breath.

“Yes!” I said as he got on my knee and hugged him.

He let out a breath with a soft curse as he hugged me back.

“Of course, Wendell,” I cried.

“Oh, thank god.”

We kissed deeply, my hands cupping his face, keeping our kiss slow and deep. I stopped kissing his lips and moved to kiss his face as he laughed.

“Lemme see this on you,” he said, his voice heavy with emotion.

I stood again as he took my left hand, kissing my ring finger. He stood, taking the ring out of the box, tucking it in his pocket, and held the ring up to show me the engraving of My Emerald in cursive on the inside. I'm shaking; a cry tumbled from my mouth as I marveled at it.

“Wendell. God, it’s breathtaking,” I gasped.

He slid the ring on my finger before kissing me again.

“It’s perfect on you, baby,” he said, marveling at my hand before kissing my now ringed finger.

“Did you. . . do the twins know?” I asked.

I knew that regardless of whether the boys approved of us getting married or not, I was going to marry him. It would hurt for them not to come, but I had to respect it.

“Look over there.”

I turned to the wooden ramp area, where families could wheel down their coolers, and for wheelchair users, and saw Damon Sr., A.J.

, Carter, their girlfriends and spouses, my boys, and the rest of the crew and their spouses, as well as Henrita Mae, Wendell’s grandmother.

All of them were cheering, clapping, and waving to us.

I held up my left hand, showing off my new ring, which made them cheer even louder.

I turned to my fiancé, lord, I’m a fucking fiancé , and kissed him.

I’m getting married again, and I couldn’t be more excited

Fin