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Way to be subtle with your interest, Mrs. H.
“If that’s all…” Ashanti tried to sidestep the old woman, but Mrs. Henderson slipped in front of her. Ashanti studied the wrinkles lining her dark face and the pull of her thick, purple lips. “Is something wrong?”
Mrs. Henderson set her hand on Ashanti’s arm. “You know I consider you like my own daughter.”
“Uh…” Ashanti glanced at where Mrs. Henderson’s wrinkled fingers clutched her arm. “You do?”
“That’s why I feel it is my business when I see you going down the wrong path.”
“I don’t understand.”
“This past month, I’ve seen that young man of yours, the Chinese one—”
“Luke?”
“Yes.” Mrs. Henderson nodded. “I’ve seen him sleepover at least twice.”
Ashanti laughed. “It’s not what you think. We’re just friends.”
“Honey, boys and girls can’t be ‘just friends’ without someone catching feelings.”
“Not that it’s any of your business, Mrs. Henderson—and I mean that respectfully—but Luke and I are different. We’ve known each other since we were kids and he’s never seen me as a woman. You have nothing to worry about.” Ashanti pasted a smile on her face and walked forward. “Thanks for your concern though. Goodnight.”
“But I saw you!”
“I said goodbye, Mrs. Henderson!”
“You were on the porch.” Mrs. Henderson’s short legs pumped as she hurried to follow Ashanti. “I saw you kiss him.”
Her entire body froze. Ashanti turned her head slightly and stared at the older woman. “What?”
“It was right there.” Mrs. Henderson pointed to the verandah where her grandmother’s chimes were singing brightly.
“No, that can’t be right.”
“I saw it with my own two eyes.” Mrs. Henderson shifted her glasses. “Now I must admit that I wasn’t wearing my glasses that night so I could be mistaken about the young man, but he was skinny and had thick hair. Who else could it be but the Asian boy?”
“Mrs. Henderson, say that again. Please.” Ashanti desperately grabbed the woman’s shoulders.
“The part about the kiss or my glasses?”
“The kiss. What day was it?”
“It was last week Wednesday. I remember because I was taking out the garbage. You know the garbage truck only comes around on Mondays and Thursdays. I’ve written ten letters to the city council so far asking them to—”
“Oh no.” Ashanti held her head and groaned. “It wasn’t a dream.”
“What dream?”
“Nothing. What else do you remember?”
“Well, I had my hands filled with garbage bags when I saw your car pull up and a man pop out. He jogged around to the backseat and then helped you out. You seemed sick. I was going to walk up and ask if you were alright when I saw you pull him in and kiss him right on the lips.”
Her mortification was amplified as she saw the scene through Mrs. Henderson’s eyes. Great. Her next-door neighbor witnessed the most embarrassing moment of her life.
Could it get any worse?
“I can’t believe this.” Ashanti covered her mouth. A mouth that she’d forced on Luke. “Why didn’t he say anything?”
