Atlanta Fish Fry by Anthony "AJ" Joiner

Author:Anthony "AJ" Joiner
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sterling & Stone

Chapter Fourteen

Anthony had consumed a moderate amount of alcohol at the second fry, but his head was splitting down the center like he’d swallowed a keg all by his lonesome. Or maybe like someone had hit him in the skull with an axe.

He rubbed his temples, consciously aware of the gesture, glad that Renee was already out of bed so—

He swallowed hard with the realization that Renee probably wasn’t out running. She was likely looking around the house, either surveying the damage or already tending to it. He would be joining her in the cleanup immediately, assuming he knew what was good for him.

Anthony went to the bathroom and then downstairs. He hadn’t smelled coffee upon waking, so he hadn’t exactly expected to see a semi-full French press, but the empty counter was still an odd sight considering he couldn’t remember the last time Renee had risen before him without making coffee.

Except, the counter wasn’t really empty. It was filled with cups and dishes, plus several wads of mysterious packaging. He got the coffee started and then investigated the fallout.

He hadn’t forgotten about Ezekiel’s attempt to fly through the closed window, but the shattered glass was still jarring, cardboard covering the aperture to make the situation seem somehow worse instead of better.

The house was a mess, but as Anthony stepped out onto his porch, he saw that the rest of Edgewood was in a similar state. He donned a pair of thick boots from the closet by the door and walked outside toward the collection of neighbors cleaning the street, paranoid about stepping on broken glass despite his heavy heels.

He looked around. Still no Renee. But the mood was light despite the mess.

“DUDE,” Josh said.

Anthony wanted to ask how Carter was doing — neither he nor Jonah were in sight — but Riley and Rob walked over with Michael, and Michael (to no one’s surprise) was already talking.

“That sure wasn’t Grandmoh’s Fish Fry.”

Riley said, “We narrowly avoided disaster.”

Rob shrugged. “The operative word is avoided.”

“Come on.” Michael waved Anthony toward his home as though he was the one who owned the place. “Rob and I will help you clean up.”

“We need better security,” Rob said as the door swung shut behind them. “I’m glad we had the bodega dudes, but we need people who are used to dealing with crowds.”

“And can stop any dumbasses who might wanna toboggan downstairs,” added Michael.

“Okay,” Anthony nodded. “That’s number one: better security. What else can we do differently to improve the next fish fry?”

“We can play dunk the white guy.” Michael laughed and nodded at Rob.

Rob laughed back. “Or the loudmouths.”

“Anyone have an actual idea?” Anthony asked.

“How about a full brass band?” Michael suggested.

Anthony nodded. “We could have fireworks.”

“A raffle,” Michael offered.

Still nodding. “We could line up stalls and start selling things.”

“We could charge vendors for booth space!” Michael crowed; now it was a competition.

Rob was watching, leaning into their huddle, visibly eager to see what Anthony might suggest next. If he had been any less excited, he might have heard the door open behind them.

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