Page 11 of Love Overdose: St. Louis

“My baby knows good food.”

“He eats peanut butter and jelly almost every day.”

“And it tastes better than them dry-ass cauliflower nuggets.”

“They weren’t nuggets. They were wings.”

“Cauliflower ain’t got no damn wings, Naomi.”

Her laugh poured through the phone while I arranged Malik’s sandwiches on his blue plate. I added apple slices, a handful of cheese crackers, and his cup, then carried everything to the table.

“All right, then,” she said. “No vegan restaurant. What do you suggest?”

“Mel’s.”

“We always go to Mel’s.”

“Exactly. Trisha knows our orders, the food is good, and nobody tries to convince me mashed chickpeas taste like fried chicken.”

“You need to expand your palate.”

“My palate is expanded enough.”

“Journey wanted us to try somewhere different.”

“Journey also thinks black pepper is spicy, so she doesn’t get a vote.”

“I’m telling her you said that.”

“She knows.”

Malik reached for a sandwich square before I could set the plate down. Peanut butter smeared across two of his fingers.

“Wait a minute with that huge appetite of yours.”

“What did he do?” Naomi asked.

“Started eating before I set the plate down.”

“Sounds like somebody else I know.”

“I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

“You.”

“I have home training.”

“You ate half your waffle before Trisha finished putting the plate on the table last time.”

“That woman moves slow.”

Naomi laughed again.

I set his cup of Sprite in front of him, then kissed his temple. His hair smelled like the coconut moisturizer I’d worked through his haircut that morning. He immediately reached for his sandwich again, and this time, I let him have it.

I grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator and leaned against the counter. “What about Wednesday?”

“I have a board meeting that afternoon.”