Home > Real Men Knit(26)

Real Men Knit(26)
Author: Kwana Jackson

   She probably should be pissed at Val, leaving her like that, but she couldn’t blame her. Her friend had come out with an agenda to ease her three-month-long sexual drought, and good for her, ticking boxes off her sexual to-do list. And besides, Val didn’t just flat dump her. She’d texted her and cash-apped her share of the bill, so there was that. But Craig? Kerry pulled a face. The way he’d gone in on those wings had her skeptical about his technique. It could be either very good for Val or an altogether disaster.

   Kerry tilted her head back and put her face under the shower spray, careful not to let any water get under her shower cap and hit her braids. It was way too late and she was way too tired to get into the laborious drying process her twists would entail. Still, the water felt good, even if it did nothing to cool her off now that she’d gone and thought of Val getting over her drought and the fact that her own seemed positively Sahara-esque.

   How good it would be to have more than her pillow or her own hands between her legs tonight. Jesse with how he looked in his T-shirt that fit him just so and those jeans that scooped his ass and hugged his thighs. Not to mention how he’d smelled when he’d first pulled her in at the bar, that heavy mixture of rugged musk and sweet sleep that he always had lingering on him. She couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to have a whole night with that scent surrounding her while she wrapped her legs around that perfect ass of his. Looked into his eyes, finally got a taste of those full lips.

   Shit, maybe she was more than a little buzzed, she realized when she stopped lathering and noticed where her hands had gone.

   Damned Jesse. A ruiner of her days and now her nights. Freaking bastard. Knowing him, he’d probably put her in the cab and gone back to pick up the hostess who was giving out all the yes signals. Either her or some other woman. It wasn’t as if he didn’t have his pick or was that discerning. That was, until it came to her. Clearly she was not his type at all.

   Kerry tightened her lips and clamped a guilty hand over her mouth. It wasn’t right. Mama Joy was dead, and though most of Kerry’s assessment of Jesse was spot on, she shouldn’t be judging him so harshly, at least not under the circumstances. She had no claim on him. Nor he on her, despite his acting tonight to the contrary.

   Starting to prune and also getting tired of the circular thoughts going on in her head, Kerry began to rinse off. As she was just about to turn off the water, she heard first a small clink, followed by a much louder clang and then an outright bang.

   She looked up at the showerhead and ducked just in time as water came spewing out of the pipe joint full force. Hopping out of the shower, she reached back in to turn it off, but still the water spewed. What the hell? At this rate the shower would start to overflow soon and she’d have a flood. She grabbed a towel and slid the shower door closed right when there was a loud crack and even more water spewed, this time from both the showerhead and the wall, brown and murky. No freaking way!

   She looked up at her ceiling and the gushing water. “Is this what I get for thinking impure thoughts about your baby boy, Mama Joy?”

   There was another loud bang and, at the same time, the lights suddenly went out.

   “Oh shit!” she yelped. Maybe it was what she got.

   No, she definitely was buzzed and needed to get it together, she thought, still dripping wet and towel in hand. Enough was quite enough.

   An explosion? A water main break? Should she call 911, 311 or just Con Ed? She didn’t know what to do cold, wet and alone in the dark.

   Clothes. First she had to get on some clothes.

   Feeling around and grabbing her cell, she flipped on the flashlight app and found some leggings and a tee to put on in her basket of not-yet-folded laundry. Turning to look for her sneakers, she jumped at the sound of a loud banging at her door. At the same time, her lights came back on and she heard the water stop. Oh, good, a triple save! Or a double. Who knew who was at the door.

   Kerry looked out her peephole and was surprised to see Lucas looking back at her. She opened the door in confusion. What was he doing there looking all official in his fireman waders, suspenders and all?

   “Come on, Kerry, you’ve got to go,” he said without any fanfare.

   “What do you mean I’ve got to go?”

   He looked at her seriously. “There was some sort of explosion. We don’t know if it was underground or from the building next door, but we’re evacuating just to be safe while it gets checked out. I’m sorry. You’ve got five minutes.” He looked up the stairs. “I’m hitting the other apartments and will swing back this way.”

   “Mrs. Robins?” Kerry said, thinking of the older woman who lived next door.

   “We’ve informed her. Don’t worry, we won’t miss anyone. Now move. Throw something in an overnight bag. You can’t stay here.”

   And just like that he was gone. Can’t stay here. Well then, where was she supposed to stay?

   Phone first. She thought of calling Val, but dammit, how could she interrupt her friend at peak watering time? What sort of homegirl would that make her?

   She didn’t know what to do, so instead, she would figure it out on the street. Lucas had said five minutes, and now she could hear her frantic neighbors making their way out into the hall. Hell, maybe this was really serious.

   Kerry found her duffel and threw some clothes in the bag, along with her laptop, cell, chargers and toiletries. Surely she didn’t need all that much by way of clothes. She’d be back in time to get ready for work at the center and the shop. Kerry frowned before throwing in another top and a sundress and two extra pairs of underwear. This really sucked. Here she was all packed up and not a place to go.

   By the time she hit the street she saw that old Mrs. Robins was already there. The older woman looked none too worse for the wear. Her pin curls were perfectly covered with a flowered bonnet and she was wearing a trench coat over her good housedress. She didn’t have a duffel or anything so crass but instead a cute little red-and-gold pullie carry-on that made Kerry wonder if she always had this to-go bag packed and also made her think on her life and how woefully unprepared she was for just about everything.

   “Are you okay, Kerry dear?” Mrs. Robins said. “Did you call your mother?” Oh God no, a middle-of-the-night freak-out from her mother was not the cherry she needed on this sundae. “Do you have somewhere to go? You are welcome to come out to Queens with me if you’d like; my daughter will be here to pick me up shortly. They are saying something about housing over at the shelter, but I don’t know. I’d rather not think of you in one of those beds alone this time of night.”

   “Don’t worry, Mrs. Robins. She’ll be fine,” came a deep voice from over Kerry’s shoulder.

   Kerry turned and met Jesse’s gaze. “What are you doing here? How did you even know?”

   He made a face. “It was a full-on explosion, Kerry Girl. You could hear it all the way to the shop.” He said this as if she was the dingiest of bats out there.

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