Hold

𝑶𝒏𝒆

Present day...

"What about Lala?" Cheyenne asked, her eyes darting between the open laptop in front of her and her step daughter Rufaro, who was keeping busy with a notebook and crayons.

I pondered the simple name and wrote it down, brow furrowing as I thought it over. "I don't like it. It sounds... pretentious. I need something more impactful, more memorable."

"Why not just be Toya? I don't know anyone famous named Toya." I knew she was trying to be helpful, but the suggestions weren't giving my ears the tingles I was hoping for.

"I don't want strangers calling me Toya." I shrugged, not even writing that down.

"Toya, we've been at it for hours." my sister whined, her fingers tapping away at her keyboard as she worked to finish up a deadline. "You're supposed to submit your application in a couple of days, why don't we take a break for now?"

I sighed and put my pen down on the marble table I'd joined my sister at, my remaining hope quickly going down the drain. "Fine, but why is this so hard? How do people land on names like Uncle Waffles or H.E.R.?"

"They probably don't ask their completely uncreative sister for help." Cheyenne laughed shyly, cheeks growing red before her eyes widened like she'd just had an epiphany. "How about you generate one on the internet?"

I groaned, throwing my head onto my folded arms. "I already spent the whole of last night trying that."

"Ine nde ndakusambila manja. I've really tried."

"No, don't give up on me!" I whined. "What if-"

"Cheyenne, look! I'm done with my picture!" Rufaro came running, the butterfly wings she'd requested for today's outfit sparkling as she stood on her tip toes to show Cheyenne her drawing.

My sister scooped her up and sat her on the table, leaning in so they could look at the picture together. Rufaro was pointing at several stick people she'd drawn in different colours, naming her many cousins from her dad's side. She was proud of what she'd created, and though it paled in comparison to what people regarded as masterful art, Chey smiled proudly and complimented it like a piece of art displayed in a gallery.

My sister was happy, engaging with Rufaro with all the patience and affection people expected from an actual mother, her smile infectious and kind. As the two of them had their moment, I gazed around the living room and kitchen in my sister's home, which she and her husband had moved into a couple of months ago after their beautiful honeymoon in Zanzibar. Cheyenne and Alex were still decorating, but even so, it felt homey and warm, many of their framed pictures and even some decorative pieces telling a tale of love so sweet, a smile spread onto my face as my focus returned to Chey.

"Why are you smiling at me like that?" Chey asked awkwardly.

"You've found yourself a healthy family to be a part of, and that's such a big thing, coming from where we come from. I'm so happy for you, Chey."