More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
“Are we pretending like we’ve never met?” he whispered,
“Okay, we can forget it. Let’s try this again,” Duncan said, straightening his posture. “It’s nice to meet you, Retta… for the very first time in my entire life.”
Gwen said, “You’ve been ignoring my texts.” “Not the important ones,” Duncan replied.
“But I’m also not seeing anyone at the moment.” Gwen squinted. “Really?” “Yeah. This,” he gestured around him, “has been taking up my time for months.” “The women of the city will understand.”
Duncan must’ve felt the intensity of several pairs of eyes searing into the back of his head because he suddenly looked over in their direction. All three of them struggled to find a natural orientation that didn’t look like they’d been staring at him for the last twenty seconds. “This is awkward,” Philippa said.
“I-is he coming this way?” Omar asked, squinting. “Yes,” Retta said. “Don’t be weird.” “Never,” Philippa said, before placing one palm awkwardly on the side of Retta’s car and the other on her hip like a bad pin-up model. “Jesus,” Retta said under her breath.
“Well, I’m sorry I can’t give you perfection.” “I never wanted perfection. Just effort,” his mother said.
Folding his arms, he frowned and said, “I’m confused. Are you suggesting I date you for parking spots?”
“Let me get this straight,” Anthony said, holding up hitting pads for Duncan to punch. “You go over there to negotiate parking spaces and you come back with a girlfriend?”
“I also got us reasonable parking and a scone recipe.”
Duncan was impressed with her skill but worried that he’d lost all his athletic ability between the time he’d woken up and now.
“No. As you said, we’re playing a friendly game… that I’m winning.”
Retta responded by patting his arm like he was some puppy who’d managed not to eat his own shit.
“Meredith, it’s fucked!”
“Well, on the bright side, you don’t have to go home a loser,” he said.
But he kept his hands where they were and waited for her to make a move. And she did, toward her car.
“No, it’s fine,” she said, giving him a small smile. Must. Not. Lean. In.
“Yeah, why not?” “I don’t know. Nausea, bloating, drowsiness—” “But think about the glory.”
Retta held up their little Dollar Store trophy. “Your glory, sir.”
“It’s one hundred percent professional…” She folded her hands in front of her on the counter. “But I did lick his face.”
What kind of fake boyfriend would I be if I didn’t introduce you to the best boxing movie of all time?”
“What’s the point you’re trying to make with this speech?” Anthony asked. “I’m not trying to make a point. I’m trying to say enough to fill up five minutes. That’s it.”
Their waffling was one of the reasons why relationships were terrifying to Duncan. Disharmony could become comfortable.
“And it wasn’t a real date,” Duncan added. “It was a public service. She’d never watched Rocky.”
It was too late to back out now from her arrangement with Duncan. He had her scone recipe for God’s sake.
“You okay?” Duncan asked as they joined the line in front of the bar. “Yeah. Why?” “You’ve not looked up once, your hand is clammy, and your grip is cutting off circulation.”
“Hey, if making out would help you relax, I’m down,” he said
“You’re killing me here, Retta,” he said. “Sorry about that.”
“Nope, I like him. Like really like him.” Kym removed her sunglasses and looked at her. “Shit.”
“All good,” he said, refusing to acknowledge his desire to hug her.
“I can’t believe you have me out here in the dark waiting for the sun,” he said.
“And how’s your speech?” Retta asked. “A delicate balance between the truth and what people want to hear.”
“He refuses to remember what anyone in the family under the age of forty does for a living. He assumes we’re all still in school.”
“What time are these things supposed to start?” he asked not too quietly. “Baby, this is a Black wedding. We’re early,” the woman sitting beside them said.
The woman seated next to him tapped his shoulder. “Here,” she said, holding out a wrapped hard candy. “To pass the time.”
“I can throw together some cocktails to make it a real party,” Duncan said. Ms. Edie pointed to him with her thumb and spoke to Retta. “I love this boy.”
“Maybe she’s worth the attempt,” Anthony said, standing up and heading to the door. “And the reason your scones are fucked is because you used rice flour.”
“You sound like my best friend.” Perking up, Steve asked, “Is she single and not in love with someone else?”
“But it’ll hurt,” she said. “And you’ll recover.”
“Good afternoon, distinguished guests… and Uncle Peter.”
“I won’t go into detail because that’s probably best done with a therapist. Which, while I speak, I’m realizing I should probably get one.”
“I-is. This. How. You. Felt. When. We. Broke. Up?” he asked loudly as tears soaked his chin.
“I thought I’d have to Little House on the Prairie this shit.”
