Page 44 of Rekindled Love

I stared. “Absolutely not.”

He parked like he didn’t hear me.

“Jabali,” I said slowly. “You drove me toanothercrowd.”

“It’s not even that deep. It’s early. Half the town still at work. It’s mostly kids right now,” he cajoled.

My lip curled. “Exactly. Small, fast, sticky people.”

“So, Aziza is a small, fast, sticky person?” he countered.

“That’s different. She’s mine.”

“And mine,” he added softly. “Okay, but think about her. She gon’ wanna come out here. You know she is. And I can tell how you are. Don’t you wanna get a feel for it?”

“Who gon’ tell her about this?” I challenged.

“I definitely am. And if Serena told her about Ruston, she probably will. And Zoriah will tell her on their first play date—they’re going to have lots of playdates.”

His words were their own challenge. They hit something I’d been trying not to think about. My baby’s world was expanding. It was bound to happen, but still. I shifted in my seat.

“That’s manipulative,” I said.

“I know,” he said, glancing at me from the corners of his eyes. “Is it working?”

I glared. He just waited me out, eyes patient but stubborn, hand resting easy on the steering wheel like he wasn’t pressing at all. Through the windshield, I watched a little girl in a puffy pink coat run past the entrance, dragging her father toward a booth that said HOT COCOA in crooked paint. Her laughter floated across the lot, so pretty and bright. My heart felt like it expanded, like my chest was too tight to hold it.

“Forty-five minutes?” I asked.

He promised. “Forty-five. You start to feel weird, we bounce. No questions. No attitude.”

“You don’t know how not to have an attitude,” I mumbled.

He smiled a little. “You right. But I’ll keep it quiet.”

I sighed, long and dramatic. “If one person throws anything at me?—”

“Who throwing something?” he cut in. “I wish they would. I need a reason to retire these shoes.”

“You always looking for a reason to fight,” I said.

“I’m looking for a reason to make sure you know somebody got you,” he said.

My throat tightened. I looked away fast, pretending to dig for my phone. “You real proud of that line, huh?”

“A little bit,” he said. “It sounded smooth in my head.”

“It sounded like it belongs in a Tyler Perry movie,” I scoffed.

“Ouch,” he said, putting a hand over his heart. “You just gon’ disrespect my creativity like that?”

“Yes,” I said, but the corner of my mouth twitched.

He caught it. Of course he did.

“There she go,” he said softly. “I knew you still knew how to smile in public.”

“Relax. That was indigestion.”