Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
mad
. . .
OMARI: I’m banned from the Madison Spencer Coffee Club because I told your parents you were running a lil late?? I panicked. You’re too fine to lie about.
Iflicked an eyebrow. Flirting? Boy, bye. I put the phone down, giving it a side-eye. Omari Riche didn’t deserve a response. I tapped the screen to my music app, selecting the Hits station. That beat right there! Yessss! I rolled my hips, getting low for a twerk workout. I was about to go all out. Full-blown Baby Michael Jackson and grab my hairbrush when I heard a knock at my window. My shoulders shot up to my ears.
Hold on. No way Amazon Prime climbed up my fire escape. Besides, I’d canceled my subscription. Too expensive.
Weapon? Weapon? My gaze swept across my nightstand, and I snatched up the pineapple-shaped lamp. Good, heavy. I spun around and charged.
SNAP!
The plug betrayed me. That cord snatched me backward like, Girl, be serious.
The squeal that exited my mouth seconded my audacity, as if I couldn’t protect myself. But I damn sure tried. I landed on my rear. Nothing seemed hurt … except my pride, as I noted the face at my window. The next second totally didn’t come off awkward as I climbed to my feet. Is that man laughing?
“What? Why Wash-ing-ton? The window is cracked. You could’ve just said hello!” I strolled over to lift the lower sash.
“I told you I’d start stalking you now.” As he spoke, my mind abruptly contemplated some You-Netflix vibes. I was hooked on Joe Goldberg after binging the entire series. Why couldn’t a sistah get some of that kinda undeniable and unhinged love? Check. Check.
And unrequited, boy, I’m feeling myself so much I don’t have to feel you love. Check. Check. Check.
Washington lifted the bag. “I promised you dinner. Chinese. I got extra egg rolls.”
“Good, you may need one for that egg of a head you got the next time you surprise me.” But that didn’t stop me from waving him inside for free food.
“Damn, Maddy, you don’t gotta be so violent.”
“You can take over my life for however long it takes me to eat dinner. Then you gotta go.”
He placed the food onto the dresser and was glancing at my phone when I tuned back into reality. I nearly broke my neck to reach him. I figured Judge Bald & Order had observed me long enough to investigate. Flipping over the phone, I pressed the side button and lowered the volume.
I approached the door and peeked into the darkened hallway. For his safety, not mine. But dang, I still felt like we were young. At seventeen, I’d started at Stanford. Sneaking in and out of his room to … cuddle, really cuddle, though it hadn’t been easy. I murmured over my shoulder, “Keep quiet, and I’ll get myself a drink.”
“What about me?”
After shutting the door again, I said, “I’m on a water and red beans and rice diet.” Which meant I couldn’t afford to buy soda. “I don’t think Lynetta will be okay with my sneaking a drink for you too, sorry.”
“Maddy …” He gave me a this-is-how-you-gonna-do-me look.
I shrugged. “You didn’t think of yourself when you brought this food.”
“Funny. I told them not to pass on the dry-ass almond cookies.”
“Touché.”
Minutes later, I returned with sodas, and he’d made a pallet on the wooden floor.
My eyes locked onto his attire. Some semblance of a three-piece suit. If he were wearing golfing pants, I’d have figured he’d hit the greens today. But … He’d gone to work. Anger flashed in my eyes. “You helped those kids!” I blurted. Okay, Mad. Too much. Even for you.
“Maddy,” he scoffed. “It’s my job. And don’t forget, you baked them cookies once upon a time.”
Once upon a time … meant before Elijah passed. I kept him alive in my heart. Not sure about Washington. He never even took a brief sabbatical. While our baby fought to survive, cue his replacement children at the courthouse.
Uncomfortable silence swallowed us whole. I kept telling myself that I’d once loved his dedication to at-risk youth, but this was another reason I divorced him.
Misery loves company? Bull crap. Misery wanted to sit her ass in the corner, alone, with a threadbare blanket, and rock back and forth while recalling the pain of twenty-three hours of childbirth. Maybe even suck her thumb like she did when she was ten.
Washington handed me a takeout box. The aroma smacked me, sweet and spicy. Some therapy in soy sauce form.
As he offered chopsticks like I wasn’t about to attack him for it, he cleared his throat. “Cakes, too, Maddy. You also made cakes. And remember when a foster youth’s court hearing was on their birthday? You had that one girl bursting into tears, without a mean mug though. She was happy.” He seemed to want to say that I was too.