Page 83 of Love Overdose: St. Louis

“Are you nervous?”

“No.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You expect me to believe you’re not nervous about meeting my mother and my child on the same day?”

“Yes. Should I be nervous?”

Frankie laughed softly as tension left her shoulders. I lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles.

“No. I want you to meet them both.”

She leaned across the console and kissed me. Her lips lingered against mine before she pulled away.

“Let’s go.”

We stepped from the car.

Frankie came around the front while I opened the rear door and retrieved the small gift bag I had purchased after lunch.

Her gaze dropped to it. “What’s that?”

“A gift.”

“For who?”

“Malik.”

“You didn’t have to buy him anything.”

“I know.”

“What did you get?”

“He’ll see before you do.”

Her hand reached for the bag but I lifted it beyond her reach.

“You’re too short for that.”

“I’m tall enough to hurt you.”

“Violence in front of your mother’s house?”

“She’ll help me.”

The red door opened before Frankie could make good on the threat. Amelia stood behind the storm door wearing a flowing orange top and white pants. Her short curls framed a face that resembled Frankie’s closely enough to make their relationship unmistakable.

“You two planning to stand in that driveway all afternoon?”

“Mama, we just got here.”

“I saw you pull up two minutes ago.”

Frankie looked at me. “She watches the neighborhood.”

“I watch my property,” Amelia corrected.

I followed Frankie toward the porch. Amelia held the door as we entered. The cool interior carried the scents of lemon furniture polish and something sweet baking. Family photographs covered one wall of the living room. Frankie appeared in most of them—at different ages, with different hairstyles, her smile unchanged. Malik occupied the rest.