Forever An Ex by Victoria Christopher Murray Read Free Book Online

sweatshirt. This wasn’t something I did often because of Angel. But it was just a little after seven; Angel was just getting up and Ms. Martinez, my nanny/housekeeper, was there to make sure she was fed and off to school.
    I jumped out of my car, then scooted up on the hood. The heat of the engine warmed my butt, but that was okay. This was winter at the beach, I could use the heat. And, I could use some prayer . . . which is why, for the first time ever, I called this prayer meeting.
    Me, calling a prayer meeting. With Sheridan Goodman and Kendall Stewart. Six years ago, who would’ve thunk it?
    When my aunt hooked me up with Sheridan, Kendall, and another woman, Vanessa Martin, all those years ago, I thought that she was suffering from early-stage dementia. Really? My Aunt Beverly, who was a pastor, really wanted me to get together on the regular and pray with those old women?
    But I can admit that I was wrong, she was right. Because after just a few weeks, praying with the three of them became a part of my week that I looked forward to.
    But then tragedy dealt us a huge blow. Vanessa, probably one of the sweetest, gentlest, kindest women I will ever know, committed suicide. I cried so hard that day that my chest actually ached. I guess that was true heartache, and with Sheridan and Kendall going through the same thing, we really bonded after that.
    Not that I would ever tell them—especially not Kendall—but the time I spent with the two of them back then really helped me through the pain of losing Vanessa . . . and Bobby. And since then, it always helped to be around grown women who made sense and who prayed.
    Not that I was dissin’ my girl Noon, but she was just as scandalous as I was. Sheridan and Kendall approached life with at least some semblance of God and I needed people like that around me.
    So, that’s what Sheridan and Kendall were—my spiritual anchors. And I guess in some way I was that for them, because no matter what time we got that call, we were always there for each other—as Sheridan and Kendall proved when I spoke to them just a little over an hour ago.
    I’d called because I thought they would be able to help me find some of the answers that I couldn’t. Sheridan would be kind and gentle, Kendall would be uncouth and crabby. And both would pray and help me work through this Angel–Bobby–Caroline–New York thing.
    That’s what I told them once Sheridan had connected Kendall to our call.
    â€œ You want to get together and pray?” Kendall had asked. She’d been asleep when Sheridan had called, but right then Kendall had sounded like she was awake enough to faint.
    â€œYes,” I said, too tired to be offended. “I was hoping you guys would have some time for lunch or maybe dinner today.”
    â€œLunch, dinner?” Kendall said. “Sheridan, what’re you doing? We need to get over there and lay hands on this child right now.”
    Usually, I had something for Kendall when she came at me like that, but not only was I tired, I was scared, so I didn’t care that Kendall was clowning me. As it turned out, though, she wasn’t kidding.
    â€œOkay, I’m getting up now,” Sheridan had said. “Where do you want to meet?”
    â€œWait!” I said. “Now?”
    â€œUh, yeah, now,” Kendall jumped in. “You need us! You want us to come to your place?”
    â€œNo. Let’s meet at the beach, is that okay?”
    â€œGive me an hour,” Sheridan and Kendall said together as if they’d had that answer ready for a time such as this.
    I was already crying when I hung up the phone. Who had friends who would jump out of bed in the middle of the night? Well, it may not have exactly been the middle of the night, but it was to me. I hardly got out of bed before noon.
    I closed my eyes and inhaled, taking in the ocean’s mist. The parking lot was a couple of