“Yes, my wallet is in my bag. I need my jacket.”
“I got you.” He insisted and grabbed the handle of my bag.
I tugged on his hand. “You can’t just make me go with you.”
Carter looked down at me. “I hope that you’re the kind of woman who would make me do something that you know is right for me, even when I’m being stubborn about it. Now, come on, we have groceries to buy, and the stores will be packed. Most people don’t recognize me anymore. We should be good.”
“I’ll write a list on the way.” Conceding to his valid point that I prided myself on encouraging people to do what’s best for them, I swung our joined hands. “I can’t stand walking aimlessly around the store, especially the day before Thanksgiving.”
Carter gave me a loud kiss on the cheek and exclaimed, “Thank you. I was about to track down your mama and tell on you.”
“Ooh, you can’t never tell her I was about to let you go without at least one date,” I laughingly teased.
“’Can’t never’?” He chuckled as we headed to his black Navigator. “I think me and your mama about to be best friends and keep you in line.”
Baby steps.I consoled myself. I can’t let my pain prevent me from joy.
And maybe Mama won’t pop me after all.
“If I’d known that you prefer fried turkey, I would’ve brought you to my home in Baldwin Hills so we could’ve hung out in the backyard.” He leaned forward to put his empty Root beer float glass on the wide marble coffee table.
“Of course, this nice high-rise penthouse condo wouldn’t be your only home.” I gestured around the dark media room where we watched movies after he’d prepped the turkey, while I got full from warm baked rolls and cranberry sauce. “I love this place. It’s elegant, modern, yet cozy. I could stay here for hours to rest and catch up on all my shows.”
We were lounging in pajamas on the softest sectional I’d ever had the pleasure of resting my body, watchingA Charlie Brown Thanksgiving. We’d had a fun day of brunch at a small restaurant, grocery shopping, playful arguing over the dinner menu, hanging out in his game room, where I beat him twice at pool, Thanksgiving dinner prep, and finishing the night with movies and popcorn.
For the most part, he’d gone unrecognizable except for a couple of fans, who stopped him for an autograph and pics. He’d argued that in L.A., land of celebrities, he flew under the radar and never had to hide from fans to live a relatively normal life. Dallas and Houston were another story since he was from Dallas and played college ball right outside of Houston.
“Then you’ll really like my house. You better say you like dogs.” He tapped his knee to mine.
“I love dogs. Always been too busy to have one. I would feel too guilty to leave them at home all day.”
“Glad you love them. I have three huskies. My dog sitter has them until Monday, before you think I’m being a bad owner,” he said pointedly.
I giggled. “I wasn’t going to judge you. You take care of animals for a living.”
I’d been impressed to learn that he’d become a veterinarian after he retired and owned a pet clinic in Compton. Most people didn’t know this side of Carter since he didn’t allow the media into that part of his life, diverting their attention to his endorsement deals and co-hosting appearances at football games and events. He didn’t want a slew of patients fascinated with his celebrity status when he wanted to give back to his community by offering free or low-cost medical care for animals.
“Whenever you have a day off, you’re more than welcome to hang out here or at my house.” His lips suddenly curved into a smile. “That is, if we see each other past tomorrow.”
“You already know I want to see you after Thanksgiving. Today was fun.” I paused and shot him a sideways glance. “I haven’t had a best friend in years.”
“Whatever you want to call me.” Carter chuckled and pointed at the screen. “You’re missing your cartoon that we justhadto watch.”
“We already watchedFast and FuriousPart 18. Stop complaining.” We smiled at each other before I refocused on the large screen. “Ooh...this my part. I love this song.” I grasped Carter’s bicep. “Ooh...Why is your arm this hard? Is your chest this hard?” I patted his chest and abs through his t-shirt. “Wow. You still work out like that?”
He arched a brow. “I thought we were watching Charlie Brown and not cop a feel on Carter?”
“We are, and this is one of my favorite songs,Little Birdie. It’s the first time the music composer of thePeanutsdecided to sing. Turn it up.” I demanded, and he shook his head in mild annoyance and waved his hand to adjust the volume. “Isn’t the melody catchy? I actually like this cartoon more than the Christmas one.”
“The fact that we’re watching this and we don’t have children is laughable.” He was stretched out on the long end of thesectional with his back propped against the sofa, and I sat cross-legged beside him. Freshly popped popcorn and the remnants of root beer floats were on the table before us. “I must like you to be enjoying a cartoon, and this song is nice and mellow. I don’t think I’ve ever paid attention to it. Then again, I probably only watched Charlie Brown once or twice in my life.”
I playfully admonished, “You said we could watch anything, and this is my Thanksgiving Eve tradition, and then at midnight, we’ll watchAlmost Christmas, the movie with Monique, Danny Glover, and Gabriel Union.”
“I’m familiar. Good choice. I need something funny to keep me awake.” He yawned as if on cue. “Are you a night owl?”
“And you must not be.” I poked his side.
He captured my finger and kissed it playfully. “Not at all. Years of early morning practice meant going to bed early.”
