Read My Daughter's Boyfriend for Free Online Page A

club.
    “Oh, you never told me you loaned Steve money.”
    “Because I knew what you’d say. He’s a grown man working, and if anything he should be giving me money. And he
did
sometimes. But then he’d turn right around and borrow it back.”
    Indira yelped with laughter again, this time louder, shaking her head and apologizing to me with her eyes. It was like we were sitting in her game room at eleven o’clock in the morning instead of late at night. I hoped Regis, her fifteen-year-old daughter, couldn’t hear us.
    “Where’s Miss Regis?”
    “With her relatives. One of her cousins is having a sleep-over, so she’s out of my hair probably, hopefully, until Sunday,” she said, smiling and popping her fingers.
    “Good for you,” I said.
    “Which reminds me,” said Indira. “Regis is having her own little slumber party in a couple of weeks. I’d planned on mailing the invitations tomorrow, but since you’re here . . .”
    “Indy, you mean to tell me I’m not worth the price of a stamp?”
    “Oh, for heaven’s sake. I’ll make sure and put a stamp on the doggoned invitation before I hand it to you.”
    I laughed and thought about how glad I felt to be with Indira and how grateful I was to count her as a close friend.
    I SAT UP IN INDIRA’S HOUSE UNTIL a minute past midnight, talking in spurts and trying to force genuine laughs and smiles. And I did all this without being upset by the lateness of the hour. I figured that Lauren was out with Aaron. They’d gotten my permission to be out beyond curfew in the past, and most times I didn’t worry. But after becoming a bit sleepy, I stood up. I gave my friend a tight hug, and began making my way home.
    THE NIGHT AIR WAS BRISK, and the November darkness erased Houston’s skyline. The engine of my two-year-old white Chevy Malibu made soft tapping sounds as I drove through the front entrance of Williamstown’s Apartments, our home of the past several years. Located near the busy intersection of Bissonnet and the Southwest Freeway, it’s an enclosed community of blacks, whites, and a ton of Hispanics.
    Our apartment unit is at the far end of the property. After driving past the guardhouse, I made a sharp right and then headed left until I reached my building. Aaron’s Legend was backed in so that the rear of his vehicle rested near a rickety wooden fence. Looking up at my apartment’s windows, I shivered when I noticed all the rooms seemed pitch dark. When I got to the door, I made sure to rattle my keys, sticking them in the lock and twisting and turning the key as loud as possible. The darkened apartment was cold and smelled musty, like soiled laundry. After two flicks of the light switch, I saw Aaron’s burgundy suit coat resting on the arm of the couch. Lauren’s slingbacks and purse were abandoned in the middle of the floor.
    “Oh no, God. Please, please.”
    I squeezed both sides of my face until it hurt, and forced myself to step out of my shoes. Waited another couple minutes before I tiptoed down the hall to Lauren’s bedroom. The apartment layout is split: my bedroom is on the right, the living room, dining room, and kitchen are in the center, and Lauren’s bedroom and the main bathroom are on the left.
    Standing outside her room, I wanted to tap lightly but said, “To hell with that.” I opened her door, turned on the light, and saw a lump in her bed covered by a queen-sized comforter. When I went to her bed and pulled back the cover, the only thing I saw was a balled-up blanket.
    Backing out the doorway, I stepped into the hall and heard voices coming from inside Lauren’s bathroom, which was directly across the way from her room.
    I cupped my right ear and pressed it against the door.
    “Mmmm, no, stop. Remember, rain check?”
    “What’s wrong?” I heard Aaron say.
    “Stop,” she pleaded.
    “What’s wrong?” he asked again.
    “Stop,” I called out, and rattled the doorknob. All conversation ceased. I heard nothing except the