Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 131486 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131486 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
“I wouldn’t want to get in the way of that,” I say wryly, turning to Kassim, cupping his face. “If you need me, text or call, okay?”
“All right, Mom.”
“Don’t wander off. Stay with me or your dad all night.”
Kassim twists his lips like my maternal concern is finally getting to him. “I’m not a baby.”
“She’s right,” Josiah says, his voice quiet but firm. “Don’t make Otis have to come find you again.”
Hearing his name, Otis perks up and barks loudly, nuzzling into Josiah’s leg. A couple of years ago, Kassim got lost at the fair. After ten minutes I was ready to plaster his face on milk cartons and send out an Amber Alert, but cooler heads prevailed. Mainly Josiah and Otis. Maybe it was Kassim’s scent, or something else, but Otis found him.
“I can count on you at least,” I say, rubbing Otis’s silky head.
“Collard quesadillas,” Hendrix reminds me.
I respond with an eye roll while the others laugh. “Okay, let’s get going.”
We leave Kassim and Josiah at the Grits truck, while Deja walks off with Vashti, her animated chatter grating as they go.
“Um, was I the only one who didn’t know your chef is smashing your ex?” Hendrix asks as soon as we’re out of earshot.
“Shhh!” I hiss, glancing over my shoulder to make sure we are actually out of earshot.
“I saw it too,” Soledad says, hesitation clear on her face. “I mean, I’m not going as far as to say they’re already having sex, but there is obviously…something there, right?”
I pretend to be terribly preoccupied looking around to check each truck and make sure things are going smoothly. “Uh, yeah. I guess.”
Hendrix takes my elbow and stops us in our tracks. “Is that woman fucking your husband?”
“Ex-husband.” I shrug as if it doesn’t matter to me either way, though deep down—hell, not even that deep—I know it does. “Josiah told me last night they’re dating, but the kids don’t know yet, so don’t mention it.”
“Are you okay with it?” Soledad frowns, before going on hastily. “I mean, obviously, you’re over him and it doesn’t matter to you if they’re together.”
She peeks from beneath a dark fringe of lashes. “Does it?”
“Not in the least,” I agree.
“So what’s the story?” Hendrix asks. “How long has this been going on?”
“He says it’s pretty recent. They’ve been working together obviously and I guess they were…” I clear my throat. “Attracted to each other. She was at the house last night when I got home from—”
“Wayminit.” Hendrix holds up a hand. “He had her up in your house?”
I give them both an entreating look. I have no desire to discuss Vashti and Josiah, and I don’t trust myself not to betray a not sure how I feel about this vibe during this inquisition.
“Can we just drop it?” I beg.
“You sure you’re okay?” Soledad asks, concern etched on her finely drawn features.
“Better than okay. I’m h-h-happy for him,” I stutter…tellingly. “Happy for them both.”
“Well, that was about as convincing as OJ teaching Sunday school,” Hendrix mutters. “Look, even if you’re over him, that first time either of you dates after the divorce is bound to feel awkward. I understand if you don’t want him to know that, but we’re your girls. It’s safe with us.”
Hendrix squeezes my hand. “You’re safe with us.”
Soledad nods, taking my other hand. “You can trust us.”
I blow out a breath and lift my eyes to the sky, fixing my stare on the setting sun so I don’t have to look at them when I make this confession.
“It feels…wrong seeing him with someone else,” I admit. “But I have no right to feel this way.”
“You mean jealous?” Soledad probes gently.
“I’m not jealous.” I jerk my hands from their grasps. “I said it feels wrong, not that I’m jealous. We made the right decision when we divorced. We’re better as friends. As partners and co-parents.”
“Too bad you can’t still fuck him, though, right?” Hendrix laments. “’Cause, ba-beeee, he looks good. And he got that smooth, Denzel kinda walk. That deep, chocolate voice. Your girl would be on that ex-with-benefits tip if I were you.”
“Hen.” Soledad slices her finger at her throat, the classic cut it out, widening her eyes pointedly.
“Oh, right.” Hendrix pats my shoulder. “What I mean to say is, you’re better off without him. You are both grown-ass adults handling this all very maturely.”
“It’s the first time either of us has dated,” I say. “So it is a little awkward, but I’ll get used to it.”
“Well, we’re here if you need us,” Soledad says.
“While I really am enjoying this bitches bonding vibe,” Hendrix interjects, “if that Blaxican truck runs out of collard quesadillas before I make it over there, that’s hell y’all gon’ pay.”
Giggling, I walk with them to get this girl’s quesadillas. I make my way around the Square over the next hour, pleased to see so much of the neighborhood out, eating, spending money. The vendors all seem satisfied, and the association members I run into congratulate me on a job well done. The night is going even better than I hoped and exactly as I planned. Kassim and Deja eventually make their way back to us when we are at the fountain.