“Of course.” Vashti’s smile broadens. “And we need to plan our Monopoly rematch.”
“You’re on!” Kassim nods, eyes lit up. His congeniality is only outpaced by his competitive spirit.
“We should teach them to play spades, Si,” Vashti says, affection in her smile, in the hand she rests on his arm.
She exudes the same easy intimacy I noticed last night. By the way Soledad and Hendrix dart glances from them to me, they must notice it too.
Great. Interrogation forthcoming.
Hendrix’s elbow to my side confirms it. When I look up, her eyebrows subtly lift, silently asking if I see this. I ignore her microexpression and decide I’ve endured enough of my ex-husband’s budding relationship for now.
“I’d better walk around some,” I say. “I should make sure the DJ is set up and ready to go.”
“There’s a DJ?” Soledad asks.
She may appear prim and proper and pinned up, but get a little sangria in her and put on some early two thous Backstreet Boys, and you got a party animal on your hands. I’ve borne witness.
“If he plays Tony! Toni! Toné!,” Hendrix says, “I warn you right now, dignity is out the door and crunk will be activated. ‘Feels Good’ is my party anthem.”
“Your anthem?” Josiah asks, humor bending the stern line of his mouth.
“Used to be ‘Step in the Name of Love.’” Hendrix tsks and shakes her head. “But R. Kelly ruined that, pervert genius.”
“And on that note,” I interject before my son’s quick mind starts digging for the specifics of the pied piper’s sins. “I’m gonna go.”
“We’ll come with,” Soledad says, pulling her phone from the slit pocket of her sundress. “I need to see if Edward’s gotten here with the girls yet.”
“I got my eye on the Blaxican food truck,” Hendrix says. “I’mma surrender to the sexual tension that’s been building between me and those collard green quesadillas ever since I got here.”
“I wouldn’t want to get in the way of that,” I say wryly, turning to Kassim, cupping his face. “If you need me, text or call, okay?”
“All right, Mom.”
“Don’t wander off. Stay with me or your dad all night.”
Kassim twists his lips like my maternal concern is finally getting to him. “I’m not a baby.”
“She’s right,” Josiah says, his voice quiet but firm. “Don’t make Otis have to come find you again.”
Hearing his name, Otis perks up and barks loudly, nuzzling into Josiah’s leg. A couple of years ago, Kassim got lost at the fair. After ten minutes I was ready to plaster his face on milk cartons and send out an Amber Alert, but cooler heads prevailed. Mainly Josiah and Otis. Maybe it was Kassim’s scent, or something else, but Otis found him.
“I can count on you at least,” I say, rubbing Otis’s silky head.
“Collard quesadillas,” Hendrix reminds me.
I respond with an eye roll while the others laugh. “Okay, let’s get going.”
We leave Kassim and Josiah at the Grits truck, while Deja walks off with Vashti, her animated chatter grating as they go.
“Um, was I the only one who didn’t know your chef is smashing your ex?” Hendrix asks as soon as we’re out of earshot.
“Shhh!” I hiss, glancing over my shoulder to make sure weareactually out of earshot.
“I saw it too,” Soledad says, hesitation clear on her face. “I mean, I’m not going as far as to say they’re already having sex, but there is obviously…something there, right?”
I pretend to be terribly preoccupied looking around to check each truck and make sure things are going smoothly. “Uh, yeah. I guess.”
Hendrix takes my elbow and stops us in our tracks. “Is that woman fucking your husband?”