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)
“He’ll be okay,” Kassim says, rubbing the dog’s head. “Won’t you, Otis?”
Otis drops his head to Kassim’s lap, which is sign enough for me.
“You and Deja have to walk him early in the morning,” I remind Kassim. “It’s still dark outside, so you can’t go alone.”
“I know. I already asked her. She said it’s fine.”
I reach down to scrub behind Otis’s ears, and he leans into my palm for a second before returning to Kassim.
“Okay then,” I tell him, dropping a quick kiss on Kassim’s head. “Love you, kid.”
“Love you, too, Dad.”
Carole stands at the bottom of the stairs, lines of fatigue bracketing her mouth and eyes. She’s not as young as she used to be, and two days of cooking for so many may be catching up to her.
“I was hoping I hadn’t missed you,” Carole says, looping her elbow through mine. “It was good seeing you.”
I give her a side hug, and it feels like a hundred other times our family gathered and she stood with me, but everything’s different now.
“Good seeing you, too, Carole. Amazing job as usual.”
“It was great meeting Vashti. She’s very sweet.” She looks up at me, her smile in place, but eyes narrowed. “I’d hate to see that girl get hurt.”
“Why do you say that?” I ask, even though I think I know.
“Boy, you ain’t dumb, and I ain’t either.” The smile fades. “I know you, Josiah, and I know my daughter.”
“Well, maybe that’s who you should talk to,” I tell her, rounding out the sharp edges of the comment. “Because that ship has sailed, and she was the captain. That’s over.”
“Doesn’t feel like it to me. Not the way you look at Yasmen when another woman is sitting right beside you.”
The last thing I need with all the conflicting emotions rioting inside of me is Carole making things worse.
“Vashti’s waiting in the car,” I say, putting a nail in the conversation. “I better go.”
“I didn’t mean no harm. I love you like a son. You know that.”
“I know.” I bend to kiss her cheek.
“Oh! I think Vashti left one of her dishes in the kitchen. Could you grab it on your way out? And thank her again for them beignets.”
When I walk into the kitchen, it’s shockingly clean after such a huge meal with so many dishes and so many people, but Yasmen, grinning down at her phone, is the only one here.
“Did you do this all alone?” I frown at my inconsideration for not thinking about cleaning up. Carole had assured us they had everything covered, but was it just her and Yasmen doing all the work?
Yasmen’s smile falters a little when she looks up from her phone.
“Oh, no. Mama and Bayli helped. Mama even wrangled Deja’s sassy tail for a few minutes to help load the dishwasher. It didn’t take long.”
“Oh, good.” I nod to her phone. “Boyfriend?”
It’s none of my business and the look she shoots me says as much. When did I lose all control of my brain-to-speech function? I didn’t mean to ask that. I don’t care if she’s texting Mark.
“I don’t have a boyfriend.” She slides her phone into the pocket of her pants, meeting my eyes with a slight smile. “But if you mean Mark, no. Hendrix and Soledad were just checking in.”
I nod and glance around, searching the clear counters for any stray dish. “Your mom said Vashti left one of her dishes?”
“I don’t think so.” A frown puckers Yasmen’s brows. “She double-checked before she left.”
I hesitate, knowing I have no reason to linger, but feeling compelled to speak. “It was good, what Seem said today, huh?”
She swooshes out a breath, touching both hands over her heart. “I don’t think I’ve ever been prouder of him. No perfect score or prize he’s ever won compared to what he said at that table today for me.”
“Yeah.” I lean against the counter beside her. “He’s something else. He just came right out with it. No embarrassment. Most guys I know wouldn’t do that, even if they are in therapy.”
“That’s the young man you’re raising,” she says, slanting a look up at me from a curl of long lashes. “I know you’ve had your issues with therapy, but you’re going for him. You’ve modeled for him it was okay, and he’ll be healthier for it.”
“I modeled it?” I scoff. “I think we both know you’ve done a lot more to demonstrate the merits of it than I have.”
“We did it then,” she says. “We still make a pretty good team, huh?”
A new tension circulates in the air, coiling around us. It tugs on me until, though neither of us has moved an inch, it feels like we’re only a breath apart. Like the space separating our bodies disappears and we’re close. The coolness of her breath, the intoxicating scent of vanilla warmed on skin I know from memory is soft to the touch. My senses absorb her in long draughts until it feels like I can’t breathe one more second if I don’t—