Driving Heat by Zuri Day Read Free Book Online Page A

an even louder cacophony as all but one of Byron’s brothers—Douglas, Nelson, and Barry—verbally reacted to her comment. The girls, Tyra and her cousin, ran back into the living room, looked at their grandmother with wide-eyed glee, and plopped down on an oversized floor cushion in a way that suggested the best entertainment was in this room. Liz was a walking, talking tornado who made no apologies for who she was. At five-foot-eight, she was just two inches shorter than her husband, and outweighed him by about fifty pounds. Both bark and bite, with a heart of gold. Would curse you out one minute and feed you the next. Her family loved her to death.
    Byron jumped up to give her a hug. “What’s up, Mama Lizzie?”
    “My blood pressure. What’s up with you?”
    “The price of gas. You want to sit here, on the couch?”
    “Since it’s my house I’ll sit where I please. You’ll know where that is when my ass hits the cushion.” She sat in the place Byron had vacated. “Now move out the way. The game’s back on.” Liz reached for the remote and turned up the volume.
    “Gram, when’s the pizza getting here?”
    “When the doorbell rings, Tyra, now stop asking. You and your cousin go play.”
    Byron looked around as the room quieted. “Where’s Marvin?”
    “Out sniffing after some feline.” Willie grew up in the south, Mississippi, and brought his slow speech and pronounced accent to LA. It never left and neither did he.
    “What’s a feline?” the young cousin asked.
    Liz’s brow furrowed. “Your kitty cat.”
    Now Tyra was confused. “Uncle Marvin is smelling her cat?”
    “Not an animal, girl. Your vagina, coochie, beaver . . .”
    “Beaver!” This description sent the young cousin into fits of laughter.
    “Dang, Mom!” Byron shook his head, eyes glued to the screen.
    “What? She asked? Would you have preferred I said p—”
    “Come on now, Liz . . .” Willie’s speech sped up a notch or two.
    “I can’t say pocketbook?” Her eyes twinkled as she gave Byron a wink. “That’s what they called it back home. Told us to keep it closed and put a lock on it.” She looked at the girls. “Did you hear that? Closed, and locked.”
    Tyra frowned. “But, Gram, how do you—”
    “Tyra. If you want a slice of pizza, I suggest you go play like Mama told you until it arrives.” Once they’d gone, Byron fixed Liz with a look of exasperation. “Really, Mama?”
    “Humph. It’s a good thing I’m talking, from the looks of things. She needs to know about her body and she needs to know early. Before some cute little boy with a wink and a smile comes shopping for a purse.”
    His brothers chuckled. Byron sighed. “Never mind.”
    “I never do. And you’re welcome.”
    “Ha!” Knowing few people won an argument when Liz was the opponent, he left the living room in search of a beer, thinking about Cynthia, and wondering what she’d think of his crazy family.
     
     
    On the other side of the city, Cynthia was trying to convince the girls that she wasn’t the crazy one. It was their Sunday afternoon telephone powwow, a staple event in these best friend’s lives since Cynthia had left Chicago for Los Angeles two and a half years ago. Only a job like the one at H.E.L.P. could have pulled her away from these BFFs who all still lived there.
    “I don’t see anything wrong with it.” Lisa had cut off an appalled Gayle to make her point. “If she was talking love and a future, then, yes, concern would be appropriate. But this is just dinner, no big deal.”
    “We don’t do dinner with bus drivers,” Gayle, a truly snooty sister, retorted.
    “We don’t marry bus drivers,” Lisa corrected. “But hey, why turn down a free meal?”
    “Where is he taking you, Cynthia . . . Pizza Hut, Subway?”
    Even though she knew they couldn’t see it, Cynthia rolled her eyes. “I love you, Gayle, but I swear sometimes your uppity ass gets on my last nerves.”
    “Don’t pay attention to her