The Sweetest Devotion

𝐗𝐕𝐈.

    "Nothing."

    Eden narrowed her eyes, and then she grinned. "Wait. Did you get a copy?"

    I scratched at my neck. "Unfortunately, I did."

    She lit up and bounced a little. "Oh my God, what do you think? Are you finished?"

    "Dixie's incredibly naïve," I said. "The world isn't all sunshine and rainbows."

    "It could be," Eden chirped up.

    I shook my head. She was young. "You're in for a rude awakening."

    Eden clicked her tongue. "You're such a Darius."

    I did relate to the male lead just a little. "He's pretty solid."

    Eden rolled her eyes. "So how far did you get?"

    "A little over halfway."

    Eden clutched her chest, her eyes enlarging. "You didn't freak out when Dixie was about to fall off the roof and Darius saved her?"

    I shrugged. "It's the decent thing to do."

    Eden deadpanned and very boldly reached out and shoved me. "God. It was beyond human decency. That's when he realized he cared about her, that he had a heart. His mind didn't just panic, but his heart froze. His heart, Keith! Like he couldn't live another day without her."

    I'd read that scene, and admittedly was on my toes thinking ol' girl was about to bite it before the end of the book. Eden was right though, there was no missing the visceral reaction Darius had had when Dixie had slipped on that roof after they'd argued.

    "Romance just isn't my thing, but it's good you enjoy it," I said in the end.

    Eden held her hand up. "You gotta really pay attention when you read it. Let your mind go and just get sucked in."

    "It's not realistic."

    Her upper lip curled up. "I don't read for realism, I read for escapism."

    "Enjoy your fairy tales then."

    She pouted and I felt bad just then. I didn't know her story, but in her large dark eyes I could see something like experience, trials and errors, but unlike me, unlike Dominique, I saw no anger.

    There was something about Eden, something bright and hopeful the more I talked to her. It was this alone I didn't dump on her book too much.

    Fuck, I was too jaded these days.

    "Sorry," I apologized sincerely. "I don't know. He comes from nothing and she's got everything, and somehow I'm supposed to believe she really looks at him and sees something?"

    "Yes," Eden responded.

    "Why?"

    "Because love isn't material. Love isn't black and white, it's gray. Love isn't letting a class difference define what matters. Love isn't easy, but it's worth the fight." Eden's eyes fell to her slides as she kicked at the ground. "At least, that's what I get out of reading these books." She looked up at me and gave a little shrug. "I get hope. And hope makes the world go round. Hope makes you believe in the impossible, and for some people, love isn't realistic until they meet that person who redefines what it is."

    She sounded just as naïve and idealistic as Dixie's character.

    "You ever been in a relationship?" I asked curiously.

    A sudden sadness washed over Eden as she nodded her head. "Not any good ones. But, you know, I still have faith. You can't write off the world, not when you gotta live in it."

    I envied her just then, her drive to push forward despite any battle she'd faced.

    "How old are you?" I had to know.

    She loosened up, moving some hair out of her face. "Twenty-three."

    Not a chance.

    The lie made me chuckle as I finally walked around her. As I made it to the front door, I faced her once more. "Maybe aim a little lower next time."

    Eden frowned. "Twenty?"

    I laughed, that sounded more believable yet still too old. "See you around, Eden."

    Love is gray.

    To be young and full of optimism.

    When I got home, despite the hour, I cracked open a beer and stood in my living room, racking my brain on my next move.

    The sound of my phone ringing caught my attention and I welcomed the distraction of a phone call from my mother.

    "Hey, Mom," I said as I picked up her call.

    "Hey, baby," my mother responded. "Listen, when's your next day off?"

    "Wednesday, why?"

    "Perfect. Momma and I were thinking of having you over for dinner. So, how about it?"

    Dinner sounded good, but then...

    The image of Kennedy came to mind, of her in just my T-shirt, ever too eager to come do yard work with me. I couldn't wrap my head around why she would want to, or why I wanted to see her do it. I couldn't imagine Little Miss Priss willingly getting down and dirty to work. I should've blew her off, this wasn't a part of our arrangement, but fuck it if curiosity wasn't guiding me into pure stupidity.

    "Uh," I let out as I got back to my mother. "I actually got plans to do some stuff around the house and get my yard work done. I'll probably be too tired to come through, but we definitely can pin down a dinner at some point."

    "Ah, well, okay," my mother sounded disappointed. "Let me know the next time you're free. It's been too long, Keith."

    I ran my hand over my waves, hanging my head in shame. "I know, I know. I'm sorry. We'll get together, I promise."

    We hung up and I set my beer down on the coaster on my coffee table.

    I needed not to think of a certain woman. "Alexa, play hip-hop and R&B."

    A chime went off and Alexa obliged me by playing some music.

    The instrumental was foreign to me, but before long I didn't have to guess whose song was playing when I heard her voice.

    Beyoncé.

    Grimacing, I barked out. "Play hip-hop."

    Jadakiss filled the room as a new song came on.

    Needing a distraction, I went and gathered laundry and brought it out to my living room to sort for the wash. I got lost in the task as hip-hop played around me.

    Vince Staples was rapping about his coming up in Long Beach when I grabbed a pair of jeans from the basket. It was when I checked their pockets that I found them. A mesh pair of lavender panties she hadn't collected when we'd parted that day.

    The thin, delicate material slipped from my fingers as I let them fall to my couch. The memory of her in the diner had me smiling.

    "I'm usually so boring," she'd confessed to me later as she lay on my chest back at my house.

    Same, I thought of my existence of home and work and back.

    I couldn't be like Eden, or Dixie, and have hope, but as I sat preparing laundry, regrettably thinking of Kennedy, I decided maybe it wasn't so bad to dream.

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