Page 6 of Phase Two

“No, that’s not a strike,” she smiled. “Not yet.”

“Thank you for your grace,” I joked.

The server came and took our food orders. When she walked away, Alise shifted in her seat. “Why did you get divorced? If you don’t mind me asking. Sometimes when people ask questions it makes others defensive. I don’t want to do too much.”

“I asked you out on a date. A date is for people to spend time together while getting to know one another. Seems to me a person would only get defensive if they have something to hide. But honestly, my failed marriage didn’t come from one isolated incident. It was years of fuck ups, and her just getting tired. By the time I decided to get it together, she was done. Too little too late.”

“That’s often how it happens,” Alise sighed. “Mine was kind of the same. It didn’t even take long. After about two months of bickering and walking around in a tension filled house, I’m like you wanna go ahead and end this?” she chuckled. “Like, sometimes, I wonder if I gave up too soon. But then it’s like, how long should you be uncomfortable and unhappy before you decide okay now I can move on from this?”

“I think that’s up to the individual. It’s easy for people to say stay and fight, but they aren’t the ones living it.”

Conversation with Alise flowed easily. So easily that when she was done eating dessert, we were still going, and I wasn’t ready for the night to come to an end. As I walked her to her car, I asked her if she wanted to go to a cooking class with me, and she agreed. It was going to be hard as hell being around Alise’s sexy ass and not wanting to have sex, but I had to see it through.

CHAPTER 3

ALISE

Lauren was tired of being in the house, so she offered to ride with me to check on my Airbnb’s. I had guests that checked out of both houses, so I was going over to clean. I had cleaning ladies that cleaned my residential home and the Airbnb’s, but sometimes, I didn’t it myself just to take a good look at the houses and make sure guests weren’t tearing my shit up.

“Question,” Lauren said timidly as I placed the towels and washcloths in the washing machine.

“What’s up, boo?”

“I know you have your cleaning ladies, and I’m not trying to take anyone’s money, but would it be possible for me to help you with cleaning the Airbnb’s, so I can make some extra money?”

I could see the desperation in my friends’ eyes. She had been a stay-at-home mom and housewife for almost nine years. Navigating back into the world of work was going to be hard for her.

“Of course, friend. They still clean my house, and they have numerous clients. They won’t miss my two. Hell, you can start right now.”

With a smile on her face, Lauren held her arms out, walked over, and hugged me. “Thank you so much.”

“Girl, I got you. I’m actually thinking about buying another property.” The confession made a lump form in my throat.

I had done well for myself in my adult life. Even before I got married, I worked at a hospital in the administration department. I had been there for ten years when my father died from congestive heart failure. He left my mother the house, whatever was in his bank accounts, and the $500,000 from his insurance policy. He left me $400,000, and he left my daughter $100,000. I took $100,000 and put a down payment on a home. I also bought property for $215,000 cash and turned it into an Airbnb. I got my second property a year later.

By that time, I had great credit, and I was able to get a bank loan to get the second property. Since the property was on the beach it was almost occupied nonstop. The first eight days of the month, I usually made enough from guests to pay the mortgage and the utilities. Everything else it made throughout the month was profit. I was thinking of getting a third property with the some of the money my dad left my mom. She was slowly showing signs of dementia, and I handled all her bills. Most days, I took her to doctor’s appointments, ran errands for her, or just kept her company.

My aunt had left her husband and needed somewhere to stay, so she moved in with my mother. That was the only reason she wasn’t living with me. Seeing my mother look at me with confusion and ask me what my name was when I entered her home sometimes, broke my heart. It seemed like she got worse after my father died and honestly, that was to be expected. Even if she would forget, I asked my mother about buying the property. She said yes. At the time, she was in her right mind, and she knew she’d be good as long as I was around. She didn’t really spend any of the money she had because most days, she forgot she had it.

“I’m happy for you, friend.”

“Thank you.”

“Nowwwww,” she smiled. “How was your date?”

Throwing my head back, I looked at the ceiling and sighed. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Is what that bad?” I could hear the shock in Lauren’s tone.

“No, it was actually pretty nice. That man seems too good to be true. And if I think that’s the case it’s probably a sign that it is.”

“Or he could be everything and more. He’s almost fifty. If he’s out here on dumb shit, that’s on him.”

I bit my bottom lip. “I don’t know, man. I don’t want to set myself up for failure. As soon as I get my hopes up about what could be, he could rip my heart out of my chest and step on it.” At my big age, I knew there was no such thing as happily ever after in real life. You could be happy for the moment, but it wouldn’t last. Everything had a beginning, and everything had an end.

Lauren groaned. “You’re self-sabotaging. It’s a defense mechanism. Just go with the flow, babe. Don’t go into it with expectations. And most importantly, stop depriving your happiness by worrying about the future. All you have is right now.”

“I really don’t want to talk about this. We’re going to a cooking class this weekend. ‘Nother brownie point for him because most men would never.”