Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 114577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 573(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 573(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
Brian growled but Sway quickly put his hand on his chest to quiet him, frowning kinda sadly.
“Please ignore that. It’s just a crush and he hasn’t taking my rejections well lately. That’s Sam, my mom’s backup nurse. He comes to relieve Tweets when she does respite. I don’t see him often. I’ve always told him no, just gently. Even now. I didn’t mean for… danggoneit’.” Sway groaned and rubbed his creased forehead against Brian’s coarse beard, comforting himself. Brian squeezed the back of Sway’s neck, rubbing away the distress. “Even though I’ve always been honest, and he knows—whether he wants to admit it or not—he doesn’t have a chance with me. But, I wasn’t going to throw you up in his face, either. That’s why I asked Tweets to send him on some errands, so he wouldn’t be here when we came.”
Brian watched the guy slam his car door, still shooting daggers at them, and peel out of the parking lot. Brian didn’t like that expression but he ignored it and reached into his backseat to remove the two large bouquets of yellow, pink and white roses.
“I told you you didn’t have to bring those. Goodness. These girls are vultures. If they see you’re willing to buy them things, they’ll never leave you alone.”
Brian shook his head. His hands were full, so he couldn’t sign to Sway that he made his family sound like gold-diggers, but instead followed him up the cracked sidewalk. The neighborhood was not as well kept as Brookwood Hills but the people living there cared for their tiny lawns, a few having pot gardens. There was a small park, with more broken equipment than anything. The metal jungle-gym looked like a deathtrap. There were no kids out, which was odd for a Sunday. A basketball court was only a few feet away from the park, but there was no basket, only ragged backboards. Several guys stood around smoking and shooting the shit. Brian glanced in that direction as they stared back. A silent acknowledgement was exchanged as he kept walking. This wasn’t Brian’s stomping ground… it was theirs’. If Sway would even remotely consider it, he’d move him out of this area, yesterday.
“Ready?” Sway teased him.
Is he trying to make me nervous? God, just open the door.
Sway took his key and unlocked the door, calling out as soon as he stepped inside. It was warm and smelled as if someone had just finished baking something. The doorway just inside the tiny apartment immediately made him feel even bigger than he was. However, as he moved farther through the narrow entrance way and the room opened up, he could finally see and breathe a little easier. A large room had been divided into a living area and dining area. The cramped kitchen, with very low, handicap accessible cabinets was around the corner. A comfortable-looking chair and two love seats surrounded a coffee table scattered with various magazines, tabloids, sales papers and clipped coupons, A modest-sized flat screen, airing an episode of The View rested on a basic TV stand.
The television was muted and a lovely woman with soft eyes like his Sway’s stared intriguingly at him. She had her blonde hair—not as dark as Sway’s—clipped at the nape of her neck with a faux-diamond barrette. She wore a wool skirt that reached her ankles and a white cotton blouse under her gray shawl. He could see where Sway had gotten his natural nurturing ability. Sway’s mom put Brian at ease with just a slight smile, an openly friendly gaze, and a welcoming wave. When he stepped from behind Sway, her eyes widened comically, and he noticed she was in a power wheelchair.
“Please come in. Squirt, move so he can come inside.” She said with a light laugh that belonged on a cloud.
A black woman came out the kitchen, carrying a bowl and a steaming mug. She set it on the table beside Sway’s mother and turned around to gape at them as if Brian was a healthy buck in an auction. Brian stood at his full height, Tweetie only coming up to his mid-chest. Her caramel-colored skin was beautiful, her true age nowhere to be seen behind that bright smile and playful eyes. Only the numerous laugh lines told of her life’s experience and how much she’d enjoyed it. “My name’s Linda, but only bill collectors call me that. I’m Tweetie. You must be Sway’s new man. And you are a big one. Reminds me of my third husband.” She paused, sighing, “Now that was a whole lotta man, Sway. Just like yours. It’s so nice to finally lay eyes on you, big boy. I was beginning to think Squirt was pulling our leg about you.”
Brian handed her one of the bouquets of flowers, then signed. “No ma’am. I’m the real thing.” Brian lightened his steps, walked over to Sway’s mom, and set the flowers in the middle of the coffee table. “For you, Stephanie. Sway’s told me a lot about you both. I’m real honored to meet you.”