Lessons From A Younger Lover. Zuri Day

isn’t everything.”

      “Trust, you’re just talking nonsense ’cause you haven’t had that kitty petted right yet.”

      “Uh, I think that’s a good note on which to change the subject. Are you coming with me to the shop?”

      “No, my neighbor’s going to redo my braids.”

      “I thought that was part of our hang-out time, getting our hair done,” Gwen protested.

      “I’ll still get a mani/pedi and a facial. That’s about how long it’ll take for you anyways.” Chantay paused and took a long swallow of merlot. “So give me the update.”

      “On what?”

      “What else? Ransom!”

      Gwen got up from the couch and peered through the patio door into the August sunshine. “Why did I ever even ask you about him?”

      “Because I’m your friend and you want my advice on catching his fine ass. If he’s anywhere close to the man you described…baby! You’d better strike while the iron is hot.”

      “I’m not going to strike anything. I only asked about him because he didn’t look like any of the families we grew up with.”

      “Uh-huh.”

      “And I find him exasperating; he acts as if he knows I’m going to give in to his flirtations and that just makes me more determined to stay away.”

      “I see.”

      Gwen came back and flopped on the couch. “Obviously you don’t. He’s probably screwed half the women in town, and I never was the type who wanted to be at the end of a long list. You remember how many of our classmates used to lie and say they’d had me just because nobody had. And you know the mantra Mama drilled into me every week. Keep your panties up and your dress down, hon, else you’ll end up on the—”

      “Front page of the Sienna Sun!” Gwen and Chantay finished together.

      “How old is he?”

      Gwen shrugged her shoulders. “Younger than me. Now that you mention it, he’s probably quite a bit younger than me. Strike two.”

      Chantay rolled her eyes. “For a woman married ten years, you sure sound naive. The younger they are, the better, girl. All that stamina, plus you can train ’em.”

      “No, Chantay, you can. Any child I teach will be in my first-grade class room. This is a moot conversation because of strike three—I’m still married. Have you forgotten that?”

      “No, but I wish you would. Because you’re not really married, just waiting to go before the judge to make your divorce final. Does it look like Joe is waiting until the divorce is official? He barely waited until the ink was dry on your petition. Oh, my bad. He didn’t wait. He started screwing his little Mitzi mistress before there even was a petition.”

      “Are you trying to piss me off?”

      “Wouldn’t be the first time, won’t be the last. Sure you don’t want one glass of wine before we leave?”

      12

      Gwen turned the corner onto her block and was surprised at what she saw: Adam’s Porsche parked by the curb in front of her mother’s house. A slight frown formed on her face as she parked behind it. What was he doing here? Had she rebuffed him to the point where he’d gotten school administrators to rescind their job offer? Gwen needed this job, not just for the money, but for her sanity. She tried to remain calm as she opened her car door and walked up the steps, but by the time she put her key in the front door lock, she was a bundle of nerves.

      “Where the hell have you been?” was the unexpected greeting that met her own incredulity in the audacity of the man before her.

      “What do you mean, ‘where have I been’? What are you doing in my house?” In a rare move, Gwen walked toward Ransom instead of away from him, pointing her finger at his chest.

      Crossing his arms over his chest in a gesture as defiant as his wide-legged stance, Ransom glared. He looked like a gloriously adorned stallion warrior, even wearing jeans and a simple T-shirt, but Gwen fought hard against this unwanted observation. Thankfully, her anger pushed past the usual paralysis that gripped her whenever she came within feet of this man.

      “You are the most conceited, bullheaded man I’ve ever met, and that you’d have the nerve, the balls, the unmitigated gall to come to my house, let alone in my house, uninvited, bothering my mother…wait. Where is my mother?”

      “So, you’ve finally gotten around to thinking about someone besides yourself. She’s at the hospital. Let’s go.

      “She passed out,” Ransom continued as he led a bewildered Gwen to the car, opened the door, and helped her in. “I was repairing Miss Mary’s back porch steps when she came running. She’d dialed nine-one-one, but was beside herself and couldn’t remember what she’d done with your cell number.”

      Gwen said nothing, reached for her cell phone. She couldn’t think, even to dial information for the hospital number. Then she realized she didn’t even know which hospital her mom was in.

      “Where’d they take her?”

      “Bradley Memorial. We’ll be there in five minutes.” Her wide-eyed question asked so desperately squeezed Ransom’s heart. He reached over and took her trembling hand in his. “It’s going to be okay.”

      His voice was the soothing one he used to tell Isis her ouchies would heal. If this were Isis, he’d take his daughter in his arms, squeeze her tight, and rock her until she fell asleep. He wanted to do the same thing to the woman beside him.

      “Where’s Miss Mary?” Gwen’s voice was timid, strained. “I should have been here,” she whispered, as tears threatened.

      Guilt racked her as she thought of the fun, carefree afternoon she’d spent with Chantay. After their beauty shop appointment, they’d gone to a spa for massages and then out to eat. She’d called her mother from the restaurant and everything was fine: Miss Mary was over and they were playing gin rummy. That’s why taking in a movie once they’d left the restaurant hadn’t seemed like a big deal. Until now.

      “She rode in the ambulance with your mother.”

      Gwen’s brows furrowed in confusion and worry. “Where’s Adam?”

      “What?”

      “Adam. Where is he? And why are you driving his car?”

      “This is my car. I’ve let Adam use it the past couple weeks.”

      “Why in the world would you do that?”

      Ransom looked over quickly. She didn’t know he and Adam were brothers? He scowled, thinking of something else. It was just three or so weeks ago that Adam had asked to borrow the Porsche. Was Gwen the woman he was trying to…? “Is there something going on between you and him?”

      “I don’t know that that is any of your business.”

      “Actually it is.”

      “And how is that?”

      “Because I know Adam and I like you, and if he thinks he’s going to…treat you the way he does most women, there’s getting ready to be a problem because I won’t let that happen.”

      The hospital was just ahead. Gwen’s focus went immediately back to her mother. But as they turned into the parking lot, she found herself asking, “How do you know about Adam?”

      “He’s my brother.”

      Gwen didn’t have time to absorb this shocking news. The Porsche had barely stopped rolling before she was out of the car and running through the short hallway to the hospital’s front desk.

      “I’m here to see about my mother, Lorraine Andrews?”