My Daughter's Boyfriend by Cydney Rax Read Free Book Online Page A

it.”
    “Well, what if I sneak and do it?”
    I laughed. “Ain’t no such thing as sneaking. Parents always find out stuff sooner or later.”
    She groaned and turned away from me. “I guess my stuff will be found out later, huh, Mom?”
    “I guess so,” I replied in such a way that she knew the conversation was over.
    We rode along in silence for a few miles, but then turned into the parking lot of one of those Burger King combo gas stations and drove up next to the take-out speaker.
    “What you want, Lauren?”
    “Onion rings. Fish sandwich. And a large cola.”
    “Hmmm, okay. I think I’ll just get a strawberry shake.”
    Five minutes later we arrived in front of our apartment unit. I grabbed my shake and Lauren reached for her soda.
    I paused.
    “What about the rest of your food? You gonna bring that in the house? You know I don’t like you to leave half-eaten food in the car.”
    “Okay, okay, okay,” she mumbled and reached for her paper bag.
    AT MIDMORNING THE NEXT DAY, Lauren’s dad picked her up fifteen minutes late to take her to worship service at Solomon’s Temple. Lauren had on a cute little beige pantsuit and was tossing keys, a pen, comb, and some cosmetics into her church purse.
    “Have a good time. Say a prayer for me,” I called to Lauren, who hustled through the front door.
    It was nearly twelve o’clock. Overcast outside as well as inside my mind. I had nothing on my agenda. No plans for lunch, no prospects to be sitting on some guy’s lap. Feeling abandoned and restless, I glanced at the unopened boxes of IKEA bookshelf materials and felt a familiar lump of loneliness in my heart. No matter what bad things go down between a man and a woman, she’s always good for remembering the times. And at that point my mind was clogged with memories. And minutes later those recollections had me snatching my handbag and locking the front door.
    During the well-traveled route, my ears burned and my heart screamed.
Yes,
I remembered what happened the other night.
Yes,
I knew I’d smacked him across his lying face, but if he was self-introspective, maybe he’d realize he deserved it. Better yet, maybe he missed me.
    Besides, I had those bookshelves and I needed a handyman.
    Twenty minutes later I came to a stop in front of the town house. The tan brick building with yellow and white shutters looked peaceful and clashed with the emotions that raged inside me. With my heart thumping like a time bomb, I plodded toward Steve’s door and tapped. Several minutes passed before a guy I didn’t recognize opened the door and peeped through a slight crack. He yawned, then cleared his throat.
    “Yes?” he mumbled, like talking was a struggle.
    “Steve here?”
    He frowned and thumped his fingertips across the back of the door, then let me in.
    I tiptoed into the living room, observing every piece of furniture: the sectional that I helped Steve pick out a few months ago; the thirty-two-inch console we used to camp in front of like TV was going out of style. Then I spotted the fish tank and shuddered at the memories of what Steve and I used to do next to his big aquarium. Running my fingers against the chilled glass, I wondered if the fish remembered me.
    “Steve’s upstairs. I’ll go get him.”
    The guy turned and paused. “I’m Joseph, by the way. Steve’s second cousin.”
    “Oh yeah? So glad to meet you,” I said, but actually I could care less.
    I inhaled when I entered the kitchen. No female aromas here.
    I allowed myself a small grin . . . especially when I noticed a gray box of Aerosoles.
    Were these mine, I wondered. Running my hand across the box, I lifted the lid. Hmmm. Cute shoes. Replacing the lid, I blushed and raised the box.
    Size eight? My feet can’t squeeze into a doggoned size eight. I dropped the shoebox and sat my dejected butt on the couch. I felt like a stranger in his town house, a place I’d been to that used to feel like home. Parts of me wanted to run from there as fast