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“I got you. I know it’s your birthday, but my folks are in town—”
“Oh, no, it’s fine. I can catch up with you another day.”
“What you mean?” I drug my words out. “I want you to join us.”
“Oh…” The long ass pause had me looking at the phone. Trying to see if the tunnel had bad service or something.
“Gigi?”
“Yeah, I was going to say I could catch up with Tati or Georgia or something. Go, enjoy your folks.”
“Nope.” I shook my head. “Meet me on the field and walk with me to my car.”
“Ugh.” I already knew she caught a ride to the stadium. I made sure of that before the game. I didn’t tell her about dinner afterward though. At least not with my people anyway.
“Field, come on. Fifty-yard line.” I asked, “You know where that is, right?”
She scoffed. “Yes, Angelo. I know where the fifty-yard line is.”
I laughed. “Just making sure.”
ChapterTwenty-One
Gianna
His parents?I looked down at my Fury jersey, with Isaac emblazoned on the back. The pair of jean shorts I wore, and thought it was a terrible outfit to meet his parents in. Leaving the house, I told myself I was going to be Angelo’s number one fan. I didn’t think of what would happen after the game. It was my birthday, but I assumed I’d go home, change, and head out with Tatiana and Georgia. I called Tatiana as I walked the field on my way to the fifty-yard line.
First thing she said when she answered, “Birthday girl, where we going?”
I stuttered, “Well, ugh…”
“Let me guess, Mr. Quarterback is taking his girl out to celebrate the win.” She bragged, “I watched that damn game. Don’t know what the fuck was going on, but I know they won. And he was on the field. That Angelo Isaac was all the commentators were talking about.”
I laughed. “Girl. No. I mean yes. He’s taking me out—”
“That’s what I’m talking about. Lock that man in. All the way in. Go ahead and give him some post-game poom poom too.”
Shaking my head, I said, “His parents are here.”
Record scratch. “His parents. You about to meet his parents?” She huffed into the phone like the thoughts were marinating. “Okay, so the luckiest chick alive is about to make her way down the aisle for real this time.” She hissed. “Is it still too soon to joke about that?”
“Yes. Way too soon,” I told her, “In fact, go ahead and cancel all those jokes.” I laughed. “I don’t want to even remember I was about to walk down the aisle, so if you need to burn your bridesmaid dress, do that too.”
It wasn’t like my wedding dress wasn’t hanging at a consignment shop ready to meet its new bride. “Or take it down to the consignment shop and hang it next to my custom-fitted dress.”
“Not important.” She reminded me, “You are about to meetthisman’s parents. This is huge. Soon. But huge.” She smacked her lips. “Go out. Get wined and dined. Make sure you impress his mama.”
I groaned. “Ugh, do you know how much Shawn’s mama hated me? What if—”
“Girl, that woman was crazy.” Without seeing her face, I knew she had that twisted-up scowl. She wore it every time I told her something about Mrs. Victors. “The audacity to tell you what you needed on the menu for your wedding. The cousins he hardly spoke to who she had to have on the invite list.” Then she reminded me of our first meeting. “Remember when she asked, ‘This is her?’ when y’all first met?”
The stadium cleared and the noise was much lower than when the crowds packed the stadium. “That part.” I looked at the field, the forty-yard line approaching.
“Anyway, chick, go out and have fun. Whatever it is, it’ll be. You two are all that matter anyway. Don’t worry about his mama or his daddy.” Then she snickered. “I bet his daddy fine too.” She sucked her teeth.
As she said that, I saw a smiling Angelo, looking like a chocolate brownie on the sidelines ahead of me.
“Alright, I’ll tell you about it later,” I gushed before hanging up the phone.
