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“Eight ball, corner pocket.”
Corey Riddick tapped the eight ball, and he and DeAndre watched as it hit the edge of the table and flew into the corner pocket.
“Yes!” Corey lifted his hands in the air as DeAndre grimaced and checked his Rolex.
“You win again.”
Corey, DeAndre’s college friend from long ago, nodded as he watched DeAndre go from checking his timepiece to glancing at his cell phone.
“You may have won if you’d been paying attention.”
DeAndre glimpsed at Corey then back to his cell. “What are you talking about?”
“You can’t keep your eyes off the time… or your phone. Is everything okay?”
DeAndre cleared his throat and slipped his phone back into his pants pocket. “Sure. I’m confirming my wife gets everything she needs for dinner.”
“Didn’t you talk to her about thirty minutes ago while she was grocery shopping?”
“I did.”
Corey’s brows rose. “Is she handicapped?”
DeAndre’s thick brows knocked together as he frowned. “What?”
“I mean no harm or disrespect. It’s just your constant checking made me wonder if she needed assistance.”
DeAndre stared at Corey for another minute, then sipped from the Budweiser in his hand. “No. She’s not handicapped, but that would be none of your business if she were.”
Corey raised his hands in surrender. “You know what, I apologize.”
DeAndre could tell Corey was still hoping for an explanation, and DeAndre was inclined to give him nothing. He inhaled a deep breath.
“She has an illness that often makes her weak. So yes, I check on her frequently.”
Sincerity fell over Corey’s face. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
DeAndre nodded and sat his pool stick down on the table. “It’s all good. You didn’t know. But you’re nosey as hell.”
Corey chuckled. “I didn’t even ask the deep questions.”
DeAndre’s forehead creased. “What more could you possibly want to know?”
“I haven’t seen you in years, DeAndre. Then suddenly, we’re at the same pool hall, early evening, enjoying a round of drinks. Surely, I want you to update me on what’s been going on with you, man. And vice versa.”
DeAndre nodded. “You have a point. So, you go first.”
Corey chuckled and wrestled with the tie around his neck, loosening it.
“What has Corey Riddick been up to since the last time I saw him?”
“I graduated from law school and passed the bar exam on my third try.”
DeAndre’s expression lifted, his eyes widened, and a smile cruised across his lips. “Congratulations, counselor.” He reached out, and they slapped hands and shook.
“Thank you. I’m engaged now and getting married in two weeks.”
DeAndre’s smile stretched, as did Corey’s.
