Read Online Love in a Carry-On Bag by Sadeqa Johnson - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Sadeqa Johnson
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own.
Warren reached across the table. “I’m telling you nothing will change.” But what he didn’t understand was that Erica craved change. She wanted every day with him, all night, and no more filler.
The waitress returned to the table with the heaping plates of steamy food and Warren ordered more orange juice. Erica watched a couple who had just walked in pushing an infant stroller. The man smiled with the goofiness of a new dad as he looked for a place to stow the stroller.
Salmon croquettes and cheesy grits were her favorite, but when Erica looked at her plate she felt nauseated. Nothing ever deterred Warren from eating and he explained while stabbing a bit of fried chicken and a slice of waffle with his fork. Erica’s disappointment suddenly gave way to anger.
“You just don’t want to move,” she pointed.
“It’s not that, honey, but I need to make a living.”
“New York is a major city. I find it difficult to believe you can’t make a living here.”
“This opportunity that they’re offering me is huge. Trust me, I want to be with you too.”
“If you wanted to be with me, you would.” She pushed the food around on her plate. “Well, at least your dad is happy.”
Warren swallowed hard. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Erica watched the rosy cheeked mother scoop her swaddled baby from the seat, sliding the child beneath her shirt, and said nothing.
Her silence seemed to have ticked a nerve with Warren because he ground his teeth and said, “If I hadn’t signed, we’d be broke.”
“Why is it always about money for you?”
“Because we have bills. And you,” it was his turn to take a jab. “You have your mother. I’m sure that was her ringing your phone.”
Erica’s fork clanked against her plate.
“I know you aren’t bringing my mother into this. Don’t worry, you’ll have your money next week.”
“It’s not about the money.”
“Well apparently it’s not about love or we wouldn’t be having this conversation, again.”
“You are so fucking unbelievable,” he reached into his pocket for his money clip, peeling off enough bills to cover the check. “Must be nice thinking that the earth revolves around you.”
“You are one to talk,” Erica tossed back. She gathered her purse, slipped into her own coat and followed him out. At the door, she glanced back at the couple, wondering how she and Warren would get from where they sat to happily ever after.
Outside, he walked too quickly up Seventh Avenue while Erica struggled to keep up in her heels. Her toes were pinched, a misty drizzle had started to fall and she didn’t have anything to cover her head. Warren walked several paces in front of her and Erica cursed him in her head.
“Why are you walking so fast?” she shouted.
“’Cause I know you are cold.”
“Well, slow up.”
Warren turned to wait for her, but he didn’t grab her hand. When they reached his SUV he rounded the car to the front window, checking for a parking ticket. The rain had started to drop and the breeze was bone chilly. When Erica stepped into the SUV the slit of her dress flew open exposing her thigh, and it was so unlike Warren not to notice.
Their argument continued up the West Side Highway.
“If you don’t want to be with me just say it,” Erica tossed.
“You still haven’t told me how we’re supposed to live? Off you?”
“That and your music.”
His laugh was bitter. “Get your head out of the clouds, Sweetie; I just played all night long for free.”
“Well, when I become director…”
“Your mother’s hand will be in your pocket and you’ll still be too chicken to tell her no.”
“You are such an asshole.”
“And you’re a selfish bitch.”
Warren footed the gas hard crossing 125th Street and Frederick Douglass. Anger had been trickling into his skin like fluid through an IV.
“Who do you think you are talking to?” She whirled around in her seat as if just slapped. “I’m not some ho
Warren reached across the table. “I’m telling you nothing will change.” But what he didn’t understand was that Erica craved change. She wanted every day with him, all night, and no more filler.
The waitress returned to the table with the heaping plates of steamy food and Warren ordered more orange juice. Erica watched a couple who had just walked in pushing an infant stroller. The man smiled with the goofiness of a new dad as he looked for a place to stow the stroller.
Salmon croquettes and cheesy grits were her favorite, but when Erica looked at her plate she felt nauseated. Nothing ever deterred Warren from eating and he explained while stabbing a bit of fried chicken and a slice of waffle with his fork. Erica’s disappointment suddenly gave way to anger.
“You just don’t want to move,” she pointed.
“It’s not that, honey, but I need to make a living.”
“New York is a major city. I find it difficult to believe you can’t make a living here.”
“This opportunity that they’re offering me is huge. Trust me, I want to be with you too.”
“If you wanted to be with me, you would.” She pushed the food around on her plate. “Well, at least your dad is happy.”
Warren swallowed hard. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Erica watched the rosy cheeked mother scoop her swaddled baby from the seat, sliding the child beneath her shirt, and said nothing.
Her silence seemed to have ticked a nerve with Warren because he ground his teeth and said, “If I hadn’t signed, we’d be broke.”
“Why is it always about money for you?”
“Because we have bills. And you,” it was his turn to take a jab. “You have your mother. I’m sure that was her ringing your phone.”
Erica’s fork clanked against her plate.
“I know you aren’t bringing my mother into this. Don’t worry, you’ll have your money next week.”
“It’s not about the money.”
“Well apparently it’s not about love or we wouldn’t be having this conversation, again.”
“You are so fucking unbelievable,” he reached into his pocket for his money clip, peeling off enough bills to cover the check. “Must be nice thinking that the earth revolves around you.”
“You are one to talk,” Erica tossed back. She gathered her purse, slipped into her own coat and followed him out. At the door, she glanced back at the couple, wondering how she and Warren would get from where they sat to happily ever after.
Outside, he walked too quickly up Seventh Avenue while Erica struggled to keep up in her heels. Her toes were pinched, a misty drizzle had started to fall and she didn’t have anything to cover her head. Warren walked several paces in front of her and Erica cursed him in her head.
“Why are you walking so fast?” she shouted.
“’Cause I know you are cold.”
“Well, slow up.”
Warren turned to wait for her, but he didn’t grab her hand. When they reached his SUV he rounded the car to the front window, checking for a parking ticket. The rain had started to drop and the breeze was bone chilly. When Erica stepped into the SUV the slit of her dress flew open exposing her thigh, and it was so unlike Warren not to notice.
Their argument continued up the West Side Highway.
“If you don’t want to be with me just say it,” Erica tossed.
“You still haven’t told me how we’re supposed to live? Off you?”
“That and your music.”
His laugh was bitter. “Get your head out of the clouds, Sweetie; I just played all night long for free.”
“Well, when I become director…”
“Your mother’s hand will be in your pocket and you’ll still be too chicken to tell her no.”
“You are such an asshole.”
“And you’re a selfish bitch.”
Warren footed the gas hard crossing 125th Street and Frederick Douglass. Anger had been trickling into his skin like fluid through an IV.
“Who do you think you are talking to?” She whirled around in her seat as if just slapped. “I’m not some ho
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