“Brunch, Sif?” Sophie inquired. “You hungry?” I asked Farrah. “You paying?” Laughing, I said, “Come on now. Ain’t no way you gon’ approve of me marrying ya daughter if I make you pay. And I don’t need you telling my mama, who gon’ tell my pops, who gon’ be on my ass,” I jested. She laughed as I pulled off into the street before saying, “That’s very true. Marriage, huh?” “Definitely.”
