“I don’t know. After seeing the reaction of Teagan’s parents, and Janey acting like I’m the side piece that Quentin’s running around on Teagan with, . . . I don’t know how to feel.” I gave a sigh that held all the heaviness that I felt.
“I think you should consider the sources, East. I mean, it could be thirty years after Teagan’s death, and her parents are probably still gonna feel like Quentin owes his love and loyalty only to her. They’re biased. You have to take their opinions with a grain of salt. As far as Janey? Her ass is just a busybody with something to say about everybody’s business. Meanwhile, she was minding other folks’ business while her husband was running around on her, and her children were slipping through the cracks. I mean, she has six of them, and none of them are doing anything worth writing home about.” Asia shrugged. “So, respectfully, fuck her and Teagan’s parents.”
Before I could respond, the doorbell rang. I waited, sipping on the glass of iced water I’d requested while Asia checked the security app.
She gave me a sly smile. “Your man is here.”
“What?”
“Your man is at the door.”
“I told him I needed time to process.”
“Apparently, your time is up.”
I pulled out my phone and checked the time. I’d been there less than a half an hour.
A few minutes later, Kobey walked into the kitchen, followed by Quentin.
“Hey,” I said, still confused.
“You ready?” Quentin asked me.
My face had to have shown what I was thinking and feeling, because Kobey and Asia were completely tickled by the drama playing out in their kitchen. “I just got here twenty minutes ago.”
“I know.” He shrugged. “It’s been too long. Let’s go home.”
My mouth opened and closed.
“Go home, East. You and Bishop need to talk. Besides, me and Kobey have some errands to run. Call me.”
“Okay.”
I gathered my purse, walked the empty glass to the sink, and left the house with Quentin. He’d driven his truck, so I climbed into the passenger seat and buckled up. We rode the distance from my brother’s house to the home we shared in silence. But once we stepped into the foyer and closed the front door, Quentin pulled me into his strong arms.
“You can have all the time you need to process, E. I’m not trying to stop your flow. You just gotta . . . you just gotta do it here. At our house. I don’t like the distance. I don’t like the thought of you processing your thoughts with so much distance between us.”
“Okay.” I agreed because I understood what he meant. He lost so much. He was worried about me walking away too. “Okay.”
He buried his face in the crook of my neck, his warm breath tickling me as he whispered, “Stay close to me, baby. Please stay close to me. I love you so much. Stay close to me.”
“I love you too,” I whispered back to him.
After church the next day, we rode home together. I thought it would be a weird adjustment to go straight home after church, as opposed to stopping by the cemetery. It hadn’t been as difficult as I expected. Mostly because Eastley and I were so busy talking in the truck that I was distracted. I changed the day of my visits with Teagan, but I never missed a visit. And Eastley was well aware that every Wednesday, during the afternoon downtime at the studio, I drove back to Sweet Jackson. Every Wednesday without fail, I cleaned up Teagan’s spot and put fresh flowers on her headstone.
“So, there’s somewhere I wanna take you,” I told Eastley as we pulled into the driveway of the house.
“When? Right now?”
“Yeah. It’s a date.”
Her face broke into a smile. “Oh, a day date. I’m here for it. Where are we going?”
“Not telling you. I gotta run an errand right quick. Pick up a few things I need.” I looked her up and down in her sundress. It was early September, but it was an unseasonably cool and comfortable day in Sweet Jackson. “You should change. Maybe jeans—definitely something comfortable. We’re taking the bike. Boots, jeans, a T-shirt, and your moto jacket. Yeah.” I nodded my head. “That’s the dress code.”
“Okay.” She smiled at me.
“I’ll be back in about twenty minutes, then we’ll hit the road.”
