She pointed her finger at me in a stern way. “But you got one man thinking he’s got a place while you’re thinking about another.”
I shifted uncomfortably. “Maybe.”
“Mhm. See, that’s how people get hurt.”
I covered my face with one hand while she chuckled beside me. When I lowered it, her expression had softened. “Listen to me, liking somebody ain’t the same as trusting them, and wanting them ain’t the same as them being good for you. Sometimes the wrong man can make you feel right because he shows up when you’re lonely.”
That struck close enough to home quiet me down and she noticed, “But,” she continued, “sometimes you call a man wrong because you scared of what happens if he turns out to be right.”
I looked at her. “Really?”
She shrugged one shoulder. “You asked.”
“How do I know the difference?”
“You don’t, not right away. That’s why God gave you time and common sense so use both. Don’t give neither one away because a man got pretty teeth and broad shoulders.”
A laughed. “Who said he had broad shoulders?”
“You did when you didn’t say he didn’t.”
Before I could respond, the front door opened without a knock. “Lulu!”
Lulu’s eyes rolled toward the ceiling. “Every damn body got a key to my house except me.”
Monica appeared in the kitchen a few seconds later wearing a fitted cream suit, heels, and that aura that made people straighten their posture when she entered a room. Her hair those smooth deep waves that fell right past her shoulders, and not a strand out of place despite the South Florida humidity. She looked like she belonged behind a desk overlooking the city, approving loans large enough to change families for generations, which was exactly where she usually was.
Monica had worked her way from a teller position straight out of college to becoming one of the top banking executives in Miami. She knew everybody, remembered everything, and had a way of asking questions that made you feel like she already had the answers.
She dropped her keys into the ceramic dish near the door and immediately eyed my bowl. “You made souse and didn’t call me Lulu?”
Lulu scoffed. “You don’t answer your phone unless somebody calling about money.”
“I answer.”
“You send that little automatic text saying, ‘Can I call you later?’ Then later comes next Thursday.”
Monica leaned down and kissed her cheek. “I’m here now.”
“Yeah child, for my food.”
“Noooo, for your company. How is it for your food when you didn’t even tell me you cooked.” Monica smiled before turning toward me. “What are you doing here in the middle of the day cousin?”
I smiled and gave her a hug. “Girl, just being stuffed with chicken souse and telling Lulu about life.”
She nodded. “I can see that.”
“She filed for divorce,” Lulu announced.
“Grandma!” I scolded.
“What? You want me to put it in the church bulletin first?”
Monica’s playful expression disappeared. She set her purse down and pulled me into another hug before I could object. The scent of her perfume filled my nostrils as she held on for several seconds. “You okay?”
“I will be.” I wiped my red eyes.
She drew back, keeping both hands on my shoulders while she searched my face. “Does Rome know?”
