Page 9 of Right Side of Paradise

“What size tampons should we get?” Soul asked me, holding up a pack with “sport” written in script across the front.

“We’re making a welcome basket, why would we buy tampons?”

“She’s gonna get her period at least three times while she stays with us. Why wouldn’t we get any?”

The furrow digging between his brows made me feel like this was another time he was better at anticipating people’s needs than me. Because why the fuck hadn’t I thought of that?

This whole thing was my idea. After the way Harlow barely made eye contact with me this morning, anxiety had me in my head all day.

She was obviously still upset about last night.

It only took me until lunch to decide a welcome basket would be a good olive branch. I could buy all her favorite things and whatever else Soul and Rico told me to get.

So far?

There was one sad pack of white chocolate Reese’s in my basket.

Add the tampons and it looked like we were shopping for someone on their period.

Not the energy I was going for.

“Yo, look what I found,” Rico called out as he walked down the aisle.

His arm cradled a bouquet of white tulips, and his fist was closed around the neck of a wine bottle.

His smile was broad and proud until he reached us and looked down into the basket I was holding.

“What the fuck is this? I was gone for ten minutes, and this is all y’all got? ”

After placing the wine and flowers beside the chocolate, he intercepted the box of tampons before Soul could add them to our stash.

“She doesn’t wear these. She uses a cup.”

Soul cocked a brow. “Why do you know that?”

“Because I was there when she bought her first one.” He looked over the contents we had—all three items with his additions—and shook his head. “This is sad. Come on, I know what else we can get.”

For the next thirty minutes we walked up and down the aisles of Alexander’s Gourmet Grocery.

When we made it to the checkout, Mr. Tiny was behind the register with all thirty-two of his teeth on display.

In all the years he’d been running this store, I’d never seen this man without a smile on his face.

Back in high school, he gave me and Soul our first jobs as stock clerks and bag boys. He was our grandparents’ age and could easily retire, but refused to go more than a couple of days without putting in some hours at the place he created from the ground up.

“I saw that mean ol’ grandma of yours before I came in today,” he said, looking right at Rico.

Laughter hummed in my chest when Rico shook his head.

“You say that every time, but you keep going to see her. Why?”

Mr. Tiny took his time answering while he scanned and wrapped the bottle of wine in a paper bag.

“Oh, that’s alright, I’m nice enough for the both of us.”

I wanted to be as delusional as this man when it came to my love. Shit, maybe I already was.

Soul threw his arm around my shoulder and leaned into me while Rico and Mr. Tiny made conversation.

“You working the bar tonight?”

I relaxed into his hold like I always did and shook my head in answer to his question. “No. I’m home tonight.”

All three of us stood in a row and I smirked, finally understanding what people meant when they said they could always tell we “belonged to each other.” Unless one of us was working, we were always together.

Even as adults before we were all living in Rico’s house, we gravitated toward one another during the day and only went our separate ways to go to sleep every night.

We belonged to each other, and our souls had decided a long time ago we belonged together. None of us had ever tried to deny that. No matter how much our roles in each other’s lives evolved over the years, that would always be true.

Mr. Tiny finally got back to scanning our stuff and peeked up at us after every item.

The flowers. The chocolates. The aromatherapy body oil Soul had found. The soft pink bath sheet I picked up because it was Harlow’s favorite color. And the tangerine vanilla scented candle we grabbed at the end of an aisle.

“You boys got a romantic night planned together or something?”

Rico choked on a laugh and Soul’s shoulder shook while I just stood there.

“What?” The old man asked, genuine curiosity marking his words. “Ain’t nothing wrong with it,” he went on to add.

“This is for Harlow, Mr. Tiny,” I told him through a smile.

“Oh…” He studied all our faces, pausing to make eye contact three different times. “I guess that makes sense. Let me wrap these flowers up nice for you then.”

“Christian, this is so sweet.” Harlow set the basket aside and wrapped her arms around my waist. Her chin rested against my sternum as she looked up at me. “Thank you.”

“Are we okay?”

“Of course we are.” She beamed and her dimples stole my attention. “We’ve been friends for twenty years, Chris. That won’t change because one of us had a bad night. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“I’m finna put the burgers on the grill!”

The announcement was followed by hurried footsteps on the staircase across from Harlow’s room.

When I looked back to see who it was, they were already out of sight.

If it was Soul, I needed to get my ass downstairs immediately. He was a lot of things, but a good cook had gotten cut off the list.

“I hope that wasn’t Soul,” Harlow said in a hushed tone, putting a voice to what had just run through my mind.

We shared a smile before I reluctantly backed out of her embrace.

All she had on was a towel after her shower and I was just a man, not a damn saint. “Get dressed. I’ll be downstairs making you a drink.”

“Midori sour. Extra soda water.”

“Whatever you want, Harlow.”

She had no idea how true those words were.