The only unmarried sibling left is my baby sister Sheree. My favorite sister, Sheree. She’s twenty-one and heavily into her studies at Temple. She wants to be a doctor, a lawyer, a dentist, or something professional that will require at least ten years of internships, research, and residencies. She doesn’t even have a boyfriend. And if she did, she has absolutely no intention of getting married anytime soon. How could she and still become a doctor, lawyer, dentist, or something professional that will require at least ten years of internships, research, and residencies? Did I tell you how much I love Sheree?

So, whispered ever so gently, I’m thirty-five and single with no kids. And not because of any physical deformities. I’m attractive, shapely, with a jamoca honey nut almond color. Well, really, I’m medium brown, but jamoca honey nut almond just sounds more exotic. A size eight, though I always make the salesperson bring me a size six to try on first just so I can act shocked that it doesn’t fit. I’ve got long, layered black hair and light brown eyes. My legs are sleeker than the lines on a 747, my skin smoother than a brother from the Nation. My teeth are floodlight bright, lashes naturally long, and there’s just enough junk in my trunk to look like Janet, Miss Jackson if you’re nasty. I’m smart, educated, pledged Delta at Morgan State University. Not because I wasn’t fine enough to be an AKA, or smart enough to be a Zeta, but the Deltas on campus were cool and I was dating this foine brother who was the president of the Delta sweethearts and it just didn’t seem like a good political move to cross party lines. Come to think of it, why am I still single?

A knock on the door pulled me out of my usual daze. It was Sharon’s son, my five-year-old nephew Cedric, all dressed up.

“Auntie Montana,” he said, beaming, “a man just brought you a letter.” He handed me a FedEx envelope.

“Thank you, Cedric.”

“You welcome.”

“Cedric, can I have a kiss?”

“Uh Uh!!” He frowned and ran out of the room like I just asked him to eat a helping of okra and green peas.

I wasn’t expecting any mail, especially not today. Who would be sending me a package…Graham? Oh my God, it’s from Graham, the man that I have been dating now for five months, twenty-three days, ten hours, and nineteen seconds! Graham was my latest and my greatest. This year’s most eligible candidate for the position of lifetime co-pilot. Graham was my deep-voiced, Billy Dee look-alike minus the mustache. My first class man, an executive bag/carry on. Kind and thoughtful. A gentleman. His signature was a long-stemmed red rose that greeted me on holidays, special days, and just-because-of days.

“You want my arm to fall off?”