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)
“It’s okay, sis. You texted me. Traffic, what are ya gonna do?” I shrugged.
She glared at the two empty seats across from us while handing over my gift. Designer socks. Because she had it like that. “Your other gift is at home. A purse that may complement these socks.”
“Oh, so you do love me.” I gave her a side-arm hug. While she ordered drinks, I brought her up to speed on how I ordered one of everything courtesy of our father. And then I gave an entire rundown of my call with Mom.
Lynn cringed. “I didn’t blatantly snitch to Momma about you and Washington.”
“I figured. That woman has mastered the delicate balance of staying MIA and doing a stakeout of our lives simultaneously.”
Lynetta sipped her mojito. “You … should be with Washington tonight. Your eyes light up when you talk about him. Same fireworks I saw when you first mentioned him. Go, be with him, sis.”
My brow lifted. “So, you can go National Geographic-ing? Clearly you love Nat-Geo more than you hate him?”
My sister crunched ice. “No. Girl, you have it all wrong. It’s geocaching. Also, I had a solemn duty to hate Wash on my sister’s behalf.”
“What?”
“Remember when I caught you in his arms after your first date?”
“Yeah?”
In a whiny voice, she repeated what she’d said the night of our first date. “ ‘He returned to work right after they hooked Elijah up to life support. After one week. Five business days! Probably wanted to pull the plug then.’ ”
My eyes sprang to hers, already blurring with tears. “I said that first, didn’t I?”
“Yep. You griped about him so much this past year that I wanted to ensure the little, nasty freak in you wasn’t overriding what you felt. That getting back together wasn’t a mistake based on hormones. I wanted nothing more than to throw a taco at the back of his head, and I’m a nonviolent person. But I always got that work was his coping mechanism, and it didn’t seem like you did. Maybe I needed to know you weren’t gonna put it on him, get it out of your system, and then get all angry at him again.”
“Oh?” Made total sense.
“So, I was ride or die, sis. Angry like you. But you love that man. And I see fireworks in your eyes, so go getcha man.”
Instead of acknowledging how my prissy sister had gotten a little hood on me or how she’d touched my heart, I picked up a carne asada mini taco. Smiling, I addressed the asinine, my mind still reeling over what my heart already knew. What my sister already knew.
“Look at this thing. Have you seen the back of Washington’s head? It isn’t big enough to do damage. Besides, thank you for not throwing hands and tacos,” I said, taking a bite of the soft-shell street taco. “Because I griped at my husband, and that was enough abuse. Hell, my attitude was so ripe, so funky, I attacked children who had done nothing but try to survive various forms of abuse or neglect.” I planted my palm on my forehead. “But before I let out that bottled anger after Elijah’s funeral, I probably looked like the sweet darling before she lost reality and whistled Redrum while carving a shank.”
“Facts,” Lynetta said, dunking a tortilla into three different salsas. “But I did just tell you to go get your man.”
She had, but I’d manipulated his time for the past month, and he hadn’t seen his brother. “Uh-uh, big sister, let’s unpack. I need to validate your feelings too.” I incorporated the heritage of my ex-in-laws. “Bébé, what you said makes sense. My nonlethal-Snapped moment must’ve triggered the Mike Tyson in you.”
“Well … it did,” she admitted. “But clearly I’m fine. This is about you and Washington, Maddy. I’m just here to support you.”
I sighed. “Okay, then. Let’s take in the hospital aspect. I’m confident that Wash thought with all our family around, I had all the support I needed.”
“But you needed him.” She nodded.
“And I’m only realizing now that Wash needed to grieve his own way. Instead of respecting his needs, or sharing what I needed, I became Big Mad.” I took a bite of empanada and washed it down with a sip of my drink. “That’s probably your fault. Thank you for enabling me, sis.”
She chuckled, then took on the voice of a smooth-talking drug dealer, “I’m your pusher man, honey.”
“Oh, hush.” We giggled together. “Lynn, I actually wanted to be alone. Not that I needed it. I guess my actions of pushing people away have helped me realize how alone you felt while growing up, big sis.”
“Not even. You were my teddy bear. Except Mom got to dress you and do your hair. I fed and made sure you washed more than your face.”