by J. Nichole
The silence is broken when Aunt Loretta asks, “Anyone ready for dessert?” Looking at me she says, “Let’s see how well you and Kenya did with these pies.”
Aunt Loretta, Kenya, and I escape to the kitchen and grab a few of the pies. “Well that’s one way to end Christmas,” Aunt Loretta says. “Can’t believe after all these years, they are reuniting.”
“I can’t believe after all these years Memaw waited for him to come back to her.” Kenya grabs a pie and walks back towards the dining room. We pass the pies around the table and three pies are cut up and shared before I take my seat again.
“Well, how’d we do?” Kenya looks around the table and nobody responds. “They have to be great, just like Memaw’s. We used her recipe.” She says, staggering over her words.
Bean laughs. “Chill girl. The pie is on point.” He looks at me and says, “Good job, Corrine.” Kenya smacks her lips.
After we help clear the table and clean the kitchen, I ask James if he’s ready to leave and he nods his head. His eyes are heavy and I can tell he’s as tired as I am. On our way out of the house, I turn to hug and kiss the family. Memaw holds me tight to her chest while whispering in my ear, “I know you’re grown, but be careful.” She holds me out at arm's length. “I can’t believe how much you look like her.” She kisses my cheek. “I love you, Corrine.”
“Memaw, don’t get all sad now. We’ll be back in the morning ready for another round of biscuits.”
“Sure will, Memaw.” James says from the doorway and Memaw laughs. We grab our bags from the coat closet, and make our way out of the house.
On the way to the hotel, James leans back in the passenger seat. Before we make it out of the neighborhood I can hear him snoring. At the hotel, I nudge his arm to wake him from his slumber. “We’re here. Ready?”
He looks at the hotel lobby and says, “Yeah, but we don’t need to check in.” I look at him and shrug my shoulders. With little energy left to question him, I drive the car to the parking lot and pop the trunk to grab my duffle bag. James grabs my bag from me and leads me to the entrance.
He pulls a key card from his pocket and opens the door. “We’re on the fifth floor,” he says. He points down the hallway. “The elevator is that way.”
Considering James has hardly been to Atlanta, the only explanation for him being this familiar with the hotel is that he and Kenya escaped to here earlier. I take a deep breath and trust that he wouldn’t be that damn scandalous to bring her here, knowing we’d be staying here tonight.
When he opens the door of the room, I step inside behind him. He throws the duffle bags on the floor and grabs my hand. “Close your eyes.” I close my eyes and let him guide me.
He sits me on the bed and pulls off my jacket. “Open your eyes.” I look up at him before I look around the room. Rose petals are scattered across the bed and a vase of roses sits on the nightstand.
“This is what you did earlier?” He nods his head. “I was thinking something different.”
“You should have more trust in me.” He grabs my hand. “And in your cousin. She adores you and wants only the best for you.” I squint my eyes. “I can’t take credit for this entire idea.” He smirks. “Or maybe any of it.” I laugh at his honesty.
“And to think after today I was thinking you’d be rushing back to Florida without me.”
He waves his hand through the air. “What would a black family Christmas be without a little… or a lot of drama?” He kisses my forehead. “Just wait till next year when you come home with me.”
I smile and wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him in to kiss his lips. Pulling away I whisper, “Merry Christmas, James.”
“Merry Christmas, Coco.”
The End
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Also by J. Nichole
Freshmen Fifteen
Sophisticated Sophomore
Summer Fling
Grown & Sexy Senior
About the Author
Debut author J. Nichole received her bachelor’s degree in Computer Information Systems from Florida A&M University and a master’s degree in Management Information Systems from the University of Illinois at Springfield.
J. Nichole has spent the past ten years as an IT Consultant. She is married with one daughter.
For more information:
www.NotTheLastPage.com