Page 8 of And Everything In Between

“Girl, you ain’t gon’ do shit if you end up in the grave. Go outside. Go laugh. Go let some young fool look at you like the miracle you are.”

“Daddy,” she warned, but the warmth in her voice gave her away. He could be sweet like that, and she hated she missed out on so many years of her father being her biggest advocate.

He sank back, groaning under his breath, eyes shut like he needed that moment before meeting hers.

“Daddy my ass. Call Bishop. Let him get me. His wife makes the best strawberry shortcake on this side of the Mason-Dixon. I need that today.”

A laugh bubbled out of Paige before she could stop it.

“You’re deliberately trying to drive me crazy. Brooks has a family and doesn’t want to be bothered with you.”

“I’m trying to see my daughter live,” he said, softer now, the elephant in the room was sitting between them. “Before I ain’t around to watch it happen. Piggy, life is short. Call him for me.”

The nickname rattled her. She blinked, slow and deliberate, stomach tightening as she fought to stay cool. She hadn’t heard him call her that since she was little, back when life was simple. Paige released a slow exhale and stood up. She gathered her purse and keys.

“Alright, old man.”

Paige kissed the crown of his bald head. “You win today. I’ll go get into something. You sure you’ll be, okay?”

“I made it plenty of years on my own. I got it. Go.”

“Okay. I’ll call you when I make it in.” She adjusted the jacket around his shoulders, her hands lingering for a secondlonger than necessary. She knew he wasn’t only talking about today. She heard him.

Climbing the corporate ladder was nice. Promotions, titles, clean little boxes to check, none of them were wrong. But what was the point if she forgot how to breathe in the process?

Back in her car, she sat still for a long moment. Eyes closed. Breathing heavy. She’d been given permission to not worry about perfection, responsibility, or how useful she could be. She’d been given permission to live a little. Laugh a little. Let herself be Paige, without apology. She’d have to trust that everything would be fine.

Honestly, she didn’t have a choice. Her parents had ganged up on her. She was sure to hear it if she let this weekend pass her by without letting the sun kiss her cheeks and the wind caress her skin.

She cracked the windows to let in the heavy summer air and grabbed her phone. Her thumbs moved fast. She texted the steadiest person she knew. Her cousin Brooks.

Paige:Hey, can you scoop my Daddy from dialysis?

Brooks would handle it. He always did. She knew she didn’t have to worry about her father being safe and taken care of with him.

Brooks:Yeah, Davida on Memorial?

Paige:Yes, thank you. I owe you.

Brooks:Get on with that beady bee. We are family.

Paige:Go to hell! But thanks. I’m outside today.

Paige set the phone face-down on the passenger seat and drew in a deep breath, the first real one she'd taken in weeks. The kind that unclenched your stomach and loosened the invisible rope around your ribs. When she finally exhaled, laughter bubbled up and excitement coursed through her veins.

If her parents wanted her to go live a little, she’d go. She was gonna step back into herself, get cute, and find some good trouble.

Chapter 4

On the other side of town- Choosy Eats

Giovanni Dowlen didn’t believe in sleeping in. By 9 A.M he had already put in three hours at the shop, checked the headcount, reviewed the latest design mock-ups. He still made it to Choosy Eats in time to claim his usual booth. The one tucked in the back, out the way, with enough distance from the bar to keep folks from stopping by to “say hey.”

He didn’t come for all that.

He came for his people.

His mom, Betsy, sat across from him, already halfway through her grits and turkey sausage, seasoning packets lined up on her napkin. Spirit, his baby sister and manager, mastermind, sat beside her, earbuds in her ear, typing away on her iPad between bites of salmon croquettes and smart-ass commentary.

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