Page 27 of We The Depraved
“Oh really?”
“Yes, really.”
“Working tonight?”
“I’ll be there.”
With lightning speed, Silver drops a kiss on my cheeks and speeds out of my house. Polishing off a doughnut and the rest of the coffee, I shower and get dressed.
Heading out of the house with a pair of shades on my eyes, I drive to Nana’s house. We all grew up calling it The Pink Bungalow because my grandfather had painted it bright neon pink. It is the only house I’ve ever seen like it in Houston, although it has started to look a little weathered. There’s a few cars in the yard and I see Reese’s tan Audi. Her husband must be making good money or stealing from evidence lockers because Reese is a housewife but always seems to have money.
Goddamn,I think.
Prayers were sent the entire ride she wouldn’t be here.
I knock in rapid succession at the screen door. There is laughter filling the air and it’s not wasted on me that I never seem to feel that when I come over.
Reese’s face is the first one I see. She unlatches the screen door.
“Heyyy,” she has a glass of wine in hand.
“Who is it?” I hear Nana call from the kitchen.
“It’s me, Nana,” I holler before Reese’s ass can answer for me.
“Me who?” Nana pops out of the kitchen with her own wine glass. “Cause I know it’s not my Sassy Sage.”
We embrace and instantly, tension melts out of my body. She looks like an older version of my mother; she’s warm and soft and it is like hugging my mom. Every time, I always want to cry but fight it back. I’m too old to be missing someone who’s been dead since I was twelve.
“You been eating?” she steps back and takes me in.
“Nana, don’t start,” I say and then I feel a slight slap on my ass.
“Your ass is huge,” Reese laughs.
We are not friendly like that.
“Reese watch that shit!’ I warn her.
She rolls her eyes and before I can say anything else, my grandmother is pulling me into the kitchen and seating me at the table. There’s a few church ladies sitting already around as well. Two bottles of blueberry wine sit empty and a fresh one has been recently opened.
“Here, snap these peas,” Nana places the bowl in front of me.
“Remember when we use to fight over doing that,” Reese offers with a hiccup.
I offer a tight smile and she takes notice.
“So are you still dancing at that sinful place,” Grace Atterby asks.
I take her in.
Miss Grace might be a first lady, but she can get her shit rocked if she wants to be in my business. My grandmother’s hand touches my shoulder and for a moment she digs in, letting me know to get myself together.
Taking a deep breath, I shoot her the toothiest grin I can. “Miss Atterby, I co-own that sinful place now. You know who likes to frequent my place?”
She leans over, her eyes wide peering over the glasses on her face. “Who child?”
“Deacon Hurt,” I say.
