Kicking sand into a black girl's fresh braids probably wasn't the best way to make friends for six-year-old Marshall Stone. In fact, that's how he found a rival.
Love Lewis has always disliked the boy that had her mother on a rampage when she came h...
Right on cue, I unlock the door and push it open, gearing up to yell my greetings but London is already walking down the stairs, hair freshly dyed. Behind them is Mark Lewis expending a rich laugh — like he golfs for a hobby type of laugh.
"Well, hello," I say to them, though they're already looking at the person standing in the doorway, "Hope I'm not too late for lunch."
London rolls their eyes humorously before making their way to me and pressing a kiss to my forehead though I can tell their focus is elsewhere — that elsewhere being proven when they bypass me and dap Marshall up.
I look away, not wanting to have to deal with whatever look I'm sure London will send my way. Instead, I find myself getting caught up in Mark's embrace.
"Hi baby girl," He greets gently, arms wrapped around me lovingly. Similar to London, he kisses my forehead and I can't help but close my eyes and rest my head against his chest, "Welcome home."
I grin, "Hi dad." Pulling away slightly, I look up at him, "Where's mom?"
And just like that, it's like she materializes from thin air around the corner. Judging by the yoga pants and oversized t-shirt she's dressed in, I can assume she was doing her daily yoga session in our family room.
Her squeals are met with my squeals and before I know it, I'm in my mother's arms feeling her warmth invade my every sense and everything is right in the world again.
"Hi mommy," I release a breath of relief. It feels like whenever I'm gone for a long period of time, I gain some subconscious homesickness and it only presents itself when I'm actually home.
"Hi my beautiful baby," She greets, pulling away to cup my face in her hands and press kisses all over, stopping at the tip of my nose. Her pregnant belly separates us.
London gags, "I ain't get all this when I came home."
Mom sends him a look, "Now you know you a damn lie." They roll their eyes and mommy's eyes transfer to Marshall who is awkwardly standing there, my suitcase still in his grasp, "Hi Marshall, how are you, sweetheart? Thank you for getting my baby home safe."
He sends her a smile, "Good afternoon Mrs. Lewis, and of course."
Mom sends me a look before she kisses my cheek again, "Alright, well let's not just stand here, come in, come in. I'll whip up some lunch."
"Babe," Mark stops her, "I can make lunch. Get off your feet."
She scoffs, "You think I'm gonna allow you to use the stove? Remember what happened last time?" As they continue to bicker their way to the kitchen, London follows after them, seemingly excited to eat while Marshall remains in the doorway, almost stuck.
"I — uh, I should get home," He says awkwardly, "Told Trin I'd be home soon to get a burger with her or something."
"I don't think that was a request," I tell him, referring to my mother's words, "Much more of a demand."
He nods, "Yeah, I assumed as much." I can tell he's growing more and more anxious, especially when he takes his bottom lip behind his teeth and into his mouth.
I tilt my head at him. Somehow being home has lightened my contempt for him because all I want to do right now is take his hand and pull him inside the house so he can at least try to relax.
Or maybe I'm just unnerved by how unsettled he is. If there is anything to be known about Marshall, it's that he's never really unmoved.
Maybe this is something he'll unpack later. Right now, his eyes bore into anything that isn't on my body and somehow that makes me crave his gaze just a little more.
"Okay, fine, we can just go out for food," My mother says as my entire family rounds the corner again, London snacking on a bag of chips. She looks at us still in the doorway and waves us in, "Come on, y'all are letting all the cold in. Mars, hope you're hungry. We're going out to get lunch."
I usher him and my suitcase in so I can at least close the door but to my mother, I speak up, "He can't, mommy, he told Trinity he'd get food with her."
"Oh," She says before walking back up to us. She slides my suitcase over to Mark for him to take it upstairs to my room before she pulls Marshall into a hug, "Well, it was good to see you again, hon."
I try not to laugh at how awkward the hug between a 6'3" man and a 5'3" pregnant woman looks. Marshall smiles as he looks at me, seeming to know what I'm thinking about, "It was good to see you too, Mrs. Lewis."
She then makes her way upstairs, leaving me and Marshall at the door... which she would never do so I just assume she's hiding somewhere upstairs in eavesdropping distance.
"You know she's still watching us," I whisper, looking up at him as his smile hasn't fallen.
He nods and responds in a whisper too, "I expected as much."
I stare up at him, hoping he can read where my mind is going with my next words, "Are we really doing this?" This being putting on a show in front of both of our families and hoping they all buy it. It's easier in theory but having to be someone I'm not — a girlfriend — around the people who know me best seems to be the biggest audition for a fake-dating Rom-Com movie to ever exist.
Can I even do this? Well, I probably should've done more evaluation before I agreed to this.
Marshall licks his lips, "Do you still want to?"
I pause, "It's just a week — for now. Why not?"
And with that, he cups my face with his hands and kisses me. It's sweet and gentle and makes my heart race and my arms develop goosebumps. This kiss isn't like our first one — it's fleeting and addicting, not that the other one wasn't but this... this feels like what I'd been missing.
And it feels like I want to keep kissing him like this.
When we separate, my hands are on his chest and I can't help but tap my index finger on him, trying to gather my thoughts with closed eyes.
I finally open them, "Uh, drive safe and I'll see you later."
"I'll see you later," He says softly, his thumb holding my jaw up and eyes not leaving mine. I wish I could know what he's thinking.
It's all an act, I remind myself when he leaves.
It's all an act, I remind myself when my mother comes bumbling down the stairs squealing even louder at us kissing.
It's all an act, I remind myself when I lick my lips to savor the taste of him.
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