Read Online Dream Girl Awakened by Stacy Campbell - Free Book Online

doorbell, anticipating James. When the door swung open, Aruba took his breath away. Aruba, donning a V-cut dashiki that accented her sun-kissed skin, bopped her head to the music. She beamed when she saw Winston, then remembered he wasn’t alone.
    â€œCome on in!” She hugged them and stepped aside for them to enter.
    â€œMiss Aruba, where’s Jeremiah?” Nicolette asked.
    Aruba motioned the Faulks to follow her to the kitchen. She peered around Winston.
    â€œWhere’s Alva? I thought she’d get out the house today.”
    â€œRube, you know she doesn’t get out that often.”
    â€œHey, it’s not like we didn’t offer,” Winston added. “She said she had reading to catch up on.” He continued to smile at her as if they were the only ones in the room.
    They were interrupted by a clearing throat. “I have a name, too.”
    Aruba looked at her mom, Darnella, who’d stopped dicing onions and bell peppers for the potato salad. “Mom, these are my friends, Winston, Victoria, and Nicolette.”
    â€œYou know I know Victoria from the last time I was here. Don’t you dare ask for my cobbler recipe this time, either,” Darnella joked with Victoria. She hugged each of them, then sat back down at the island. “I’m almost done with this potato salad. I hope you all enjoy it.”
    â€œI promise I’ll try it this time,” said Victoria.
    Aruba gathered Nicolette in her arms, kissed her. “May I offer you guys something to drink? James is manning the grill. We’ll be eating in thirty minutes or less. Everybody else is out back. Come on.”
    â€œI’ll have some of your lemonade if you whipped up some.” Victoria couldn’t deny that Aruba knew her way around the kitchen. She could take the simplest items and make a feast. In Aruba’s presence, she wished she’d learned to cook when she was younger. Marguerite insisted she not learn to cook because she might burn her hands or ruin her back bending up and down near an oven. During those moments they hung out together, Aruba regaled her with tales of learning to cook when she was nine years old. The last time Darnella was in town, they’d tried in vain to show her how to prepare a soul food feast. Victoria cut her finger slicing tomatoes and got tired separating collard greens from the stems. She felt dizzy right now at the thought of cooking, taking care of a child, satisfying a husband, and staying sane. Thank God for hired help.
    The four of them stepped through the patio door, onto the deck, and into the backyard where three white tents were set up. Most of the crowd danced as others sat at tables decorated for the occasion. Instead of traditional red, white and blue Fourth of Julyadornment, each table held a remnant of the movie Coming to America .
    â€œEveryone, these are my friends Winston, Victoria, and lady Nicolette.”
    â€œHey,” the crowd sang in unison, returning to D.J. Cheese’s spinning and scratching grooves.
    A man rocking a Reverend Ike finger-waved ’do shouted to Victoria, “Marry me and come back to North Carolina! I’ll take real good care of ya!”
    The crowd laughed and his wife, Ida, seated next to him, jerked her neck around. “Shut up, Herbert!”
    James slathered barbecue sauce on the ribs as he sized up Winston in his jacket and jeans. He still didn’t understand why Aruba had invited them. It’s one thing for a man to make a mistake in the heat of passion, it’s another thing to be exposed. By someone like Winston no less. Now he had to step up his game, so he wouldn’t look like the unemployed villain to this bourgeois muthafucka. Luckily for him, he’d been under doctor’s care for the last two months. That was at least enough time for Aruba to stop riding him about finding work. She even had stopped talking divorce the last two months since the accident. Hell, she