“Yeah. Tell him to set aside that . . . item . . . me and him talked about recently.” Milton chuckled and leaned toward Joyce and whispered, “It’s for a manly issue. And I . . . I’m a little too embarrassed to talk about it in front of women . . .”

“I see. Well, I hope it’s nothing catchy.” She shuddered and closed the door a few inches. “I’d hate for Odell to come down with something while he is so busy at the store these days and has to spend so much time taking care of his daddy. He’s been sick enough lately.”

“Don’t worry. Milton ain’t got nothing serious, and it ain’t catchy,” I said, rolling my eyes. We all laughed.

“Is there anything else?” Joyce asked, shutting the door a little more.

“Naw, I guess not,” I told her. “I hope you and Odell enjoyed your holiday today.”

A dreamy-eyed look suddenly crossed Joyce’s face. “I declare, we sure did. Spending the holiday with just each other this year was even more romantic and fulfilling than last year, and the year before. Since Odell is gone so much, it’s important for us to spend time alone whenever we can. Did y’all enjoy yourselves at Dr. Patterson’s house?”

“We sure did. We met a lot of his out-of-town relatives. They made us feel right welcome,” I gushed.

“That’s nice. Well, I’ll let y’all go on home to get ready for whoever shows up tonight. Bye now.” With a smug look on her face, Joyce shut the door before we could say anything else.

Me and Milton looked at each other and shook our heads. “Humph. I hope that uppity heifer enjoys the rest of her ‘romantic and fulfilling’ holiday night with Odell. This might be their last one,” Milton snarled. He wrapped his arm around me and led me home.

CHAPTER 29 - JOYCE

CHAPTER 29

JOYCE

I COULDN’T LOCK THE DOOR FAST ENOUGH. WHEN I HEARD YVONNE and Milton stomp down the porch steps, I breathed a sigh of relief.

I checked to make sure I’d put the leftover Thanksgiving food away before I went to the bathroom to pee. I had already done my nightly face cream ritual and taken a quick bath so I could get cozy with Odell sooner. I didn’t want him to wait too much longer. That was why I didn’t roll my hair with the leather curlers I used sometime. The way he had repeatedly squeezed my knee, tickled my chin, and ogled my bosom during supper, I knew he’d get right frisky when we got in bed. And my curlers would end up on my pillow.