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)
“Sorry I’m late.” She collapses into the empty seat, snatches the drink from my hand, and takes a long sip.
“For your own birthday celebration.” Hendrix tsks. “Just glad you made it at all. Did you have to tie Edward to the refrigerator for him to stay home with the girls?”
Soledad’s husband is notoriously absent from pretty much everything lately. Pink filters into the gold-brown of her cheeks. “He, um, had to work late unexpectedly and—”
“So who’s with the kids?” I cut in.
“I called Mrs. Lassiter’s daughter.” Soledad fixes her gaze on the menu, avoiding the exasperation I’m sure is apparent in Hendrix’s eyes and mine. “She’s that ninth grader who lives around the corner. Lottie and Inez love her. Lupe’s old enough to stay home and they’d be fine, but her cheering practice went late, so…” She shrugs philosophically.
“One night,” Hendrix mutters. “He couldn’t give you one night?”
I shoot Hendrix a quelling glance, silently urging her to lay off, but she’s more likely to bite your tongue than she is to bite hers.
“Guys, come on.” Soledad drops the menu and all pretense that it actually interests her. “Can’t we just have a good time and not focus on Edward? He’s in the middle of a huge project at the firm. It’s a lot and he’s doing the best he can.”
I bet even she doesn’t believe that, but I won’t argue the point and spoil her birthday any more than her inconsiderate sperm donor already has.
“You’re right!” I slam my empty glass on the table and signal for the server. “Let’s get lit like we’re not class mom in the morning!”
“One of us isn’t class mom,” Hendrix reminds, her laugh throaty and grateful. “And my apartment is literally around the corner. I’m walking, so I’ll drink for us all.”
Soledad and I are driving, albeit only around the corner, so we can’t drink much, but getting lit sounds amazing. Our little trio is composed of disparate pieces that somehow work together. Hendrix, blissfully single and childless, is completely focused on her career and her ailing mother in Charlotte, splitting her time between the Queen City and Atlanta. Soledad doesn’t work outside the home, but runs her household like a kingdom, leaving everyone awestruck by levels of organization and domesticity seemingly unachievable by mere mortals. She’s a dash of Joanna Gaines, a sprinkle of Marie Kondo, and a big ol’ scoop of Tabitha Brown, a dish served at a farm table on the finest china.
And then there’s me.
Wrapped in all the trappings of a suburban housewife, except I’m no longer anybody’s wife, and I run a thriving business with the man I always assumed I’d love forever.
“How are your kids, Yasmen?” Soledad asks, sipping the cosmopolitan the server set down after taking our orders. “Deja and Kassim okay tonight?”
“They’re good. Grabbing dinner at Grits. Josiah’s taking them to the house for homework once they’re done.”
“You two manage your…” Soledad closes one eye and twists her lips, apparently searching for the right word. “Your dynamic so well.”
“Dynamic?” Hendrix casts me a look I’ve fondly dubbed sly-slutty. “Is that what you call it when your fine as hell ex-husband is there 24/7 for the screwing and you do nothing about it?”
There was a time when Hendrix’s brashness would have left me sputtering and spewing my drink, but I’m used to her now. She spent all her shock value on me months ago.
“It’s called co-parenting,” I say. “And running a business together. If we want to do both of those well, it’s best to keep things simple and platonic.”
“You don’t even want the occasional dip into that yummy honeypot?” Hendrix asks, a knowing smile gracing her full lips. “Josiah is—”
“Fine as hell.” I smile at the approaching server carrying our food. “I’m aware. I was married to him.”
“I bet Josiah put it down,” Hendrix says. “You can look at him and tell he can fuck.”
“All right. Enough.” I try to play it off with a laugh, but talking about our former sex life is not what I want to do. “Don’t creep on my ex.”
“I mean no harm.” Hendrix lifts both hands. “I come in peace and with the purest admiration for a man in his prime and a prime piece of man. I was just saying it seems like you probably got some good dick out of that marriage. Amirite?”
I did, but that was the last thing on my mind at the end. Our animosity and grief doused the passion we’d always taken for granted. Those last few months, we rarely even slept in the same room. My bed has been cold and empty for a very long time.
“I obviously don’t know everything that went down with you two,” Hendrix says. “But that’s the kind of man I’d miss.”
“Like you said,” I tell her, staring into my drink. “You don’t know everything that went down.”