Gettin' Merry by Beverly Jenkins & Monica Jackson & Francis Ray & Geri Guillaume

Author:Beverly Jenkins & Monica Jackson & Francis Ray & Geri Guillaume [Ray, Francis & Jenkins, Beverly & Jackson, Monica & Guillaume, Geri]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Romance, Collections & Anthologies, African American
ISBN: 9781429908122
Google: U2ibbucVtbkC
Publisher: Macmillan
Published: 2007-04-01T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 2

Not only was Trey Fraser gorgeous, but he was a nice guy, too, Anne decided as she walked away from his black Toyota 4Runner and got into her small pickup truck. Suddenly aftershocks of excitement and giddiness felt like an anxiety attack. She leaned her burning forehead against the cool plastic of the steering wheel.

She could hardly believe that she actually had talked to the man of her dreams, much less spilled all her business like a babbling fool. How had she found the nerve to approach Trey Fraser in the first place? Certainly asking him out and blabbing her private pain indicated that she’d finally lost the few marbles she had left. Jeez! How to be black—had she really asked him that? No wonder he’d laughed. But he’d listened and treated her with respect.

Anne shook her head as she started the motor and put her truck into gear. A few minutes later, she pulled into the driveway of the split-level home she shared with her grandparents, a nice home in a nice neighborhood where the lawns were cared for and property values mattered.

As she tramped across the snow to the house, her head overflowed with thoughts of Trey. His smile, his voice, his easy stride, and his strength—he reminded her of a black panther on the hunt, lean and sleek muscles seemingly relaxed but coiled and ready to spring. When his long, sensitive fingers circled the rim of his cup as he talked, she couldn’t help but imagine how they’d feel against her skin. Even the scent he wore, reminiscent of fresh air and Georgia pine trees, enticed and thrilled her.

The blare of the television interrupted her thoughts as she entered the house. Anne was hanging up her coat in the hall closet when her grandmother appeared, a heavy woman with a ruddy pink face that showed evidence of years of hard work.

“Have you eaten?” Grammy asked. “I made meat loaf.”

“Sounds good,” Anne said.

Her grandmother followed her into the kitchen and watched while she filled her plate with meat loaf, mashed potatoes, green beans, and rolls.

Anne settled down across from Grammy and picked up her fork. Her grandmother liked to talk to Anne in the evening before she left for her night-shift job as a licensed practical nurse. Anne doubted that Grammy talked much to Papa anymore. She’d worked nights for as long as Anne could remember while he worked days fixing air conditioners in the summer and furnaces in the winter. Her grandparents lived separate lives.

“How was the meeting?”

“I went to a lecture. It was good,” Anne replied.

“Betsy’s going to be able to come up for Christmas after all. She’s bringing Todd and the baby, too.”

“That’s great. Been a long time.”

Grammy nodded. “Too long.”

Anne shifted in her chair. Now was as good a time as any to bring up her father. “That lecture I went to on campus brought up the importance of knowing your roots. I wondered . . .” Her voice trailed away as she watched the expression on Grammy’s face change to guarded anxiety and resentment.

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