that she always gave me whenever she saw disaster. Her long ebony locks grazed her shoulders like beautiful threads of yarn. The small silver nose ring and her sterling hoops glimmered with every flicker of the red candle on the table. I decided to speak first so she wouldnât think her threat shook me.
âSo howâre Phil and Evelyn?â
âTheyâre fine. She still wants to get married but Daddy says that my wedding is enough for him to think about right now.â
âHow long does she plan to wait? Itâs been six years and every year Phil comes up with another excuse. She needs to kick his ass to the curb.â
âI know.â
âYour father is not the type to change without a kick in the ass.â
âYou got that right,â Saundra answered dryly. âHeâs a stereotypical cop, content with coffee and donuts.â
âPhil is built like a tank. Itâs hard to believe he eats so much junk food,â I observed.
âHe works hard enough to keep in shape, waking me up with that damn NordicFlex machine.â
I daydreamed for a moment about Philâs wonderful body and the crush I used to have on him in high school. He has the most amazing chest, with big muscles and sexy, deep-chocolate skin. When I used to visit Saundra, the highlight was seeing her father in his gray sweatpants lifting his weights, occasionally pouring water over his bald head to keep cool.
âAsha, I need you to help me plan the wedding. Yero and I are going to choose the place but I need a womanâs help with all the other stuff.â
âWhat about Evelyn?â
âI want my sister.â
She gave me a loving smile and it felt so good that tears pricked the back of my eyelids.
âI want you to be my maid of honor, too. Will you?â
I patted her hand. âOf course, baby.â
Maid of honor! Iâd have to buy a fabulous dress. Nothing off the rack. It would have to be couture. Who was going to come up with the two or three grand? Brent or Nick?
I was snatched back to reality by a pint-sized waiter shoving a menu in my face.
âI donât need a menu, thanks. Iâll have the sweet and sour chicken with white rice,â I said, handing it back to him.
âWhat about your dress?â
âIâm cool. I started sketching some designs for my wedding dress yesterday.â
âLemme guess. Itâs gonna be made of recycled burlap, a mosquito net for a veil and youâll carry a broccoli stalk bouquet?â
âOh, youâre funny, Ms. Armani. I donât think itâll be that haute couture.â
The waiter was looking impatient. âWould you like something to eat, miss?â he asked eagerly, turning to Saundra.
âIâm not sure yet, let me see . . .â Saundra trailed off, wrinkling her forehead in concentration. God does that get on my damn nerves. What the hell is she thinking about! She doesnât eat anything. The only choice she can make is to have her seaweed baked or fried.
âI think Iâll go with the mixed vegetables, brown rice, and a spring roll without the shrimp.â She smiled.
âWhy do you do that?â I asked.
âWhat?â
âYou study the menu, knowing youâre only going to eat vegetables, anyway.â
Saundra was exasperated. âIâve told you that Iâm not going to eat anything that has a face or a spirit. But I still like to know how my vegetables are going to be prepared, so I study the menu.â She sighed heavily.
Saundra and I are not as close as we used to be. This type of shit is the reason why.
Chapter 17
SAUNDRA
T hereâs just something about peppermint soap and lavender oil that soothes the soul. The fallen leaves were rustling around outside as I soaked in the bathtub and it reminded me that we would all be turning our watches back in only a week. Soon it would be Halloween. Asha would need me then because it was the one day of
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