Page 69 of Sin Bin

Chatter and laughter rang through the warm night, lights twinkling in the swaying palm trees that bordered the fence. Delicious scents wafted from the buffet table piled high with an assortment of catered foods.

Wendi and her good friend Trish were standing on the wraparound deck drinking cocktails and gossiping.

Trish was a successful real estate agent in her early forties. Tall and lithe with smooth brown skin and sparkling brown eyes, she bore a striking resemblance to British actress Naomie Harris. She was always super nice to Meadow, always asking how she was doing and giving her career advice. Sometimes Meadow wished that her father had met Trish before Wendi.

As she approached the wooden deck with a glass of wine, Trish beamed and waved excitedly to her.

“There you are! Get yourself right on up here!”

Meadow laughed as she stepped onto the deck. “Hey, Trish.”

They hugged and kissed each other’s cheeks, then pulled apart and shared a big grin.

“So you’re really leaving us, huh?” Trish demanded.

“I’m afraid so,” Meadow said sheepishly. “They made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”

“So I hear.” Trish affectionately tweaked her nose. “I’m so happy for you. I knew it was only a matter of time before some smart employer snatched you up.”

Meadow smiled warmly. “Thank you, Trish. For everything.”

Trish winked at her.

Not wanting to be left out, Wendi asserted, “I never doubted that you would land back on your feet, Meadow. You’re a survivor.” She smiled and gave her a one-armed hug around her shoulders. It felt stiff and unnatural. “Whitni is so sorry she couldn’t be here to see you off.”

“I know. She texted her congratulations and well wishes.” Wendi’s twenty-six-year-old daughter had accompanied her boyfriend on a business trip to Dubai.

“Easton is showing her the time of her life,” Wendi gushed. “The company put them up in a five-star hotel and arranged for a luxury car service. The last time I spoke to Whitni, she’d just gotten a massage at the spa, and they had dinner reservations at the most expensive restaurant in Dubai.”

“Wow.” Trish let out a longing sigh. “I would love to be whisked off on an all-expenses-paid trip to Dubai. Lucky girl.”

“Isn’t she?” Wendi was giddy. “She says Easton made two million last year and he’s up for another promotion. I told her she’d better hold on to him and hold on tight.”

“Definitely,” Trish agreed. “It’s hard out here for single women, and it’s only getting worse.”

“Isn’t that what I’ve been telling you, Meadow?” Wendi patted her arm. “When you get to Denver, one of the first things you should do is join a gym.”

The barb brought heat to Meadow’s face.

“Pay her no mind, Meadow.” Trish eyed her enviously. “I’d kill to have your body. Petite with curves galore.”

“Oh, no, you misunderstood me,” Wendi rushed to clarify herself. “I wasn’t implying that Meadow is overweight or anything. She’s fine the way she is. But as a yoga instructor, I always encourage people to be as fit and healthy as they can be. It certainly wouldn’t hurt Meadow to get more toned. If she wants to attract a high-earning man like Easton, she has to keep herself in tip-top shape and start traveling in the right social circles.”

“There’s nothing wrong with her social circles,” Trish countered. “Between her volunteer work and astronomy club, she interacts with a wide range of people. Hobnobbing with millionaires doesn’t guarantee a trip down the aisle. Look at me. I sell mansions to high rollers and get invited to the most exclusive parties. I meet plenty of eligible men every day, but I’m still no closer to finding Mr. Right.”

Wendi scoffed dismissively.

Meadow gave Trish an empathetic smile, secretly wishing her father was still on the market. He wasn’t a millionaire, but he worked hard and could make any woman very happy. And selfishly, she knew she would enjoy having Trish as a stepmother.

Wendi sighed as if shouldering some great burden. “So many young black women don’t understand the importance of raising their standards and practicing hypergamy. Instead of leveling up, they scrape the bottom of the barrel to find love. Whitni has friends who will gladly date any broke bum off the street just because he has so-called swag.” She snorted. “As if swag ever paid the bills or put food on the table.”

Trish didn’t argue the point.

Meadow sipped her wine and looked around the yard, hoping to be rescued by her father. Unfortunately, he was nowhere to be found.

She was startled when Wendi suddenly cupped her chin and tipped her face up. “Will you just look at these gorgeous amber eyes? They’re one of your best features. Why do you insist on hiding them behind these glasses?”

“Um, I’m nearsighted,” Meadow reminded her.

---