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“Thankies! With all the money we pay for those classes, they had better kill it.” She laughed obnoxiously.
I wanted to turn my nose up but decided it wasn’t nice, even though she ground my gears.
“What’s up, good peoples?” Jonathan approached us wearing a bright smile. He shook Justin’s hand and kissed my cheek before wrapping his arm around Jolie’s waist.
“What’s up, Jon? It’s good to see you,” Justin replied.
I watched Jolie as her eyes roamed over Justin’s frame. I wanted to ask her who the hell was she looking at like that but didn’t want to act out in front of the kids.
What the hell was that?
“I was just telling the Colemans that the children did amazing.”
“Baby, I love our son dearly, but he totally fucking sucked.”
“Jonathan!” Jolie grumbled. “Why would you say that?”
He said exactly what I wanted to say, which was the truth.
I wanted to laugh but held back.
Jonathan chuckled. “Babe, come on. You know as well as I do, he doesn’t follow directions well. It’s okay, though. Maybe he’ll be good at something else, like football.”
“Whatever.” Jolie rolled her eyes…right over to my husband.
This broad was really trying it.
I wasn’t naive to not notice that my husband was very attractive. His mahogany complexion, chestnut eyes, and tall, solid frame had the women swooning over him every time. I was by no means an insecure woman. I was confident and secure in myself enough to know I looked damned good, but Jolie was downright disrespectful. I saw the slight lust in her gaze, and before I lost my religion, it was time for us to go.
“Well, we have to go get our little cellist. It was good seeing you all,” I said, moving into the aisle.
“Morgan, let’s do lunch soon, okay?”
I smiled graciously, took Justin’s hand, and moved up the aisle.
“We’ll talk,” I said over my shoulder.
“Don’t trip, Mo. I saw that too,” Justin whispered to me.
“I wonder why she’s so comfortable eye-fucking you in front of me,” I uttered.
Justin stopped me from walking.
“Hey. Are you okay?” I looked up at him and searched his eyes for any sign that he was being something other than the loving, doting husband I’d known him to be. I knew Justin. I knew his patterns like I knew all the theme songs from our favorite sitcoms from the nineties.Somethingwas off. I just couldn’t pinpoint it.
“I’m still trying to figure that out.”
Before he could reply, Megan and her music teacher had approached us.
“Mommy, Daddy, how’d I do?” Megan asked, beaming brightly.
I smiled wide, pulling her into my arms.
“You did so good, Gingerbread!” I exclaimed.
“You sure did, baby girl. You were the star of the showcase!” Justin followed up, hugging and kissing her cheeks.
“Thanks!”