Published 1/16/18 by After Glows Publishing
Contemporary/Romantic Comedy
Synopsis:
Justine had the job of her dreams, the best parents in the
world, and a brother she more than just tolerated. The one thing she gave up on
was finding love. She didn't need that to be happy, right? In helping her
brother pull off his own last-minute wedding, Justine may be in for a surprise
of her own, and find love had been right there in her face the entire time.
Excerpt:
Pops was a six foot three inch tall bear of a white
man with white hair cut to the quick, with a small beard and mustache that made
his handsome face look menacing, when in truth he was one of the nicest men
you’d ever meet. Mom was just a touch over five feet, a fierce, robust black
woman with more than a touch of Native American. She had long dark brown hair
and the face of an angel, though she could be mean as a damn grizzly if you got
on her wrong side. She was also more than a touch racist: she doesn’t count
Pops as white. Yes, I know how idiotic that sounds. But since he grew up in the
heart of Detroit and played pro basketball for a while until an accident took
out his knee, Mom said that made him black enough for her. Did I mention they
were a touch insane?
“Well, don’t just stand there like some statues. Your mom
made some brunch and has it all set up nice in the dining room,” Pops said as
he ushered us in, “And she wouldn’t let me touch a damned thing ’til y’all got
here and I’m half starved.”
“You got enough meat on those bones to afford to miss
a meal or two,” Was Mom’s snappy reply to that comment.
“Estelle, you wound me with your words. Now, I’m going
to need some extra affection from you or I’ll start believing you just don’t
love me like you used to.”
“I’ll give you some extra affection alright, a whack
upside the back of your head if you touch that food before we say grace.”
Rolling my eyes at that, I sat down. I couldn’t help
but smile at how much the two of them loved one another, as we bowed our heads to
say grace. They almost gave me hope that I could find that type of love too.
Almost.
Mom cleared her throat before saying, “There’s some
grown up juice mixed in with the orange juice, since I’m more than sure we
gonna need it. Nothing ever bodes well when Max calls and says he wants to
discuss something with us.”
“Ma, come on, maybe I just wanted to spend some time
with my family.”
“Boy, do I look like I was born yesterday to you? If
so, them damn contacts ain’t worth a damned dime that you paid for ‘em, and you
need to go get a refund.”
I just about choked on my juice listening to the two
of them go back and forth. I don’t think Pops even heard a mumbling word over
his own chewing. I barely recall seeing the man even fix his plate, but when I
looked over at him he was already halfway done and eyeballing seconds.
I had a coughing fit so bad Pops was about to get up
and beat me on the back until I choked out an, “I’m okay,” when I heard Max
telling Mom, “Maybe I wanna just discuss going on a family vacation. We haven’t
done that in a while now.” I downed another glass of ‘grown up juice’ to help
soothe my throat, and get ready for the big reveal.
“Maybe if you actually ate some food to go with all
that juice you keep downing you wouldn’t be over there having spasms,” Pops
suggested to me between mouthfuls.
Only thing I could say to that was, “I am. I’m just a
bit more thirsty than I am hungry.” You
would be too if you knew just what kind of vacation your son was talking about.
As if he was reading my thoughts, Max cut his eyes at me.
“Quit eyeballing your sister, and tell us some more
about this vacation idea of yours.” Poor Mom, she truly sounded excited about
it.
“Yes, Max, please enlighten us with more details about
this vacation plan of yours,” I said. “I am just so intrigued.”
“Justine, I hate you.”
“Love you too bro.” I even blew him a kiss with that.
Which made him look as though he wanted to strangle me. “Just trying to offer
up some encouragement. I’m in the mood for a vacation myself and would love to
hear the details.”
“You are so not helping here.” He was turning beet
red. Maybe I should let up a little bit. I
had barely had that thought before there was a knock at the door.
My eyes went round as saucers. “Please tell me you
didn’t.”
When Mom scooted back her chair to go to the door, Max
stopped her saying, “I’ll get it.”
Sure enough, when he walked back in he had Chelsea on
his arm. “Mom, Pops, meet Chelsea, my fiancée.”
After about two seconds of stunned silence, Mom finally
recovered enough to say, “Justine, pass me that damn juice you hogging up over
there.” Then she turned to Pops saying, “Henry, please tell me your son did NOT just bring me home a white girl.”
About the Author:
When you become a Mom,
you begin to put yourself last, and your combat boots begin to collect dust.
Going to your child's PTA meetings in full Gothic, especially industrial,
regalia is pretty much frowned upon. Especially by your own children, and your
teens would die of a heart attack. But, one should not have to completely stop
being themselves, uniqueness is greatness. So all of that darkness is put into
words in her books, and designs in her jewelry sold in her GothicMoms
DarkCharms shop.
Mother of five beautiful
children, but by far more than just that. T. A. Moorman is an artist, a
violinist, a seamstress, a crafter, a writer, a blogger, a reviewer, a dark
confidant and a darkly dangerous, fiercely protective friend. And currently
broke, so go buy something of hers. Lol.
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