Leslie turned to DeAndre. “Everybody knows us—and I’m here at the same time every week.”
DeAndre nodded. “Touché.”
“To answer your previous question, the advice you asked about was, what if your mom and I disagreed about something that could harm her? That tells me you think Avery can hurt herself, and you’re trying to save her. Your mother has always been fairly healthy. So, I’ve never been in your position before, caring for a wife with an illness. But I know this is about Avery’s lupus. You can’t save her from everything. Don’t try. This will only make her resent you. She wants to live her life to the fullest. Her illness hinders her enough. She doesn’t need her husband to, too.” DeAndre went to respond when Leslie added, “I know you mean well. She knows you mean well. But you’ve got to loosen up. Let her enjoy her life, and you support her. And if, for any reason, it becomes harmful to her, let Avery figure that out. She’ll shift and find something else to love. Trust that she also has her best interests at heart.”
DeAndre nodded and sighed. “Damn. I should’ve known this.”
Leslie chuckled. “It’s not that you didn’t know it. Your heroism blinds you. Calm down, son. Go on the adventure with her if she’ll let you or sit back and watch her be great. If she invites you—which she will, then encourage her. But I didn’t have to tell you that last part, did I?”
DeAndre smiled. “I got it.”
“I know you do.”
The bank teller sent Leslie a receipt through the bin, and he took it and added it to a black booklet, then inserted it into the middle console.
“Have a good day, Mr. Valentine,” the teller said.
“You do the same.” Leslie pulled away, and DeAndre cocked his head.
“How do you know she’ll invite me?”
“Well…. I’m not one hundred percent. Some things women want to do for themselves and on their own. But you’re the love of her life, I’m ninety-nine percent sure she’ll want to share whatever this newfound thing is with you.”
“Ifshe’s talking to me when she gets home from the station.”
Leslie chuckled. “Are you a Valentine or not?”
Laughter burst into the air as DeAndre guffawed. He nodded and slapped his dad on the shoulder. “I got it.”
“You’d better have.”
Five
Avery
Aaliyah’s Dance Studio
The doorbell jingled as Avery entered the dance studio. A Black woman with a curly afro stood behind a counter, smiling as their eyes met up to each other.
“Hello, welcome to Aaliyah’s dance studio.” She walked from behind the counter, meeting Avery halfway. “I’m Aaliyah. Are you interested in pole classes?”
Avery’s heart sped up suddenly, and her nerves got the better of her.
“Um… yes, but… I wanted to get some information first.”
Aaliyah nodded. “I understand. Have you ever pole danced before?”
“No.” Avery readjusted the strap from her purse on her shoulder and clasped her hands together.
“Have you ever taken classes before?”
“No.”
“So you’re a complete novice?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. Walk with me to the counter so I can get some information from you.” They strolled to the countertop, and Aaliyah repositioned herself behind the desk. At the computer, she typed a few things then began asking questions. “Why do you want to take pole dancing classes?”