Page 29 of Before We Say I Do

“Wait. It’s cold as hell out there.”

“It’s designed to close off when it’s cold, and we can light a fire in the fireplace.”

“This I got to see.”

London chuckled. “You just get ready to light that joint because I need to calm my nerves ASAP.”

“I’m on it.”

They slid the doors opened and eased onto the patio where London lifted a remote control and pressed a few buttons. Gliding walls moved to close them off from outside temperatures, and with the push of another button, a fire began to crackle in the fireplace adjacent to them.

“Daaaamn, this some rich people shit, I don’t know anything about this.”

London chuckled. “I didn’t either until I saw it.”

Carla retrieved a lighter from her jean pockets, then lit the joint.

London waved her finger at Carla. “You’re not supposed to be smoking. Doesn’t your school do random drug tests?”

“I don’t smoke enough to fail a drug test.”

“And you would know that how?”

“I’ve passed every one of them, and I smoke with the same consistency.”

“Consistency sounds like a lot.”

Carla laughed. “I got it covered.”

“But isn’t this how you lost your last job, a random drug test?”

Carla blew out a thick puff of smoke that shot over to London, clouding her face.

“Hush up and hit this.”

Carla passed her the joint, and before she could change her mind, London put it to her mouth and inhaled.

“Not so hard.”

London choked, then coughed, then leaned forward desperate for air as she went into a coughing fit.

“Oh geez, girl, you hit it too hard.”

London tried to talk back with her lungs still obstructed, but it came out in a strained wheeze.

“Lies. What is in this?”

“Girl, that is mid cannabis. You just hit it too hard. Like I said, give it back. You’re letting it burn.”

London handed the joint over, finally coming out of her coughing fit to sit back on the lounge furniture.

“You didn’t pat a sista on the back or nothing, just going to let me choke to death.”

“That’s not how weed works. Patting on the back does nothing, that’s food, or something physical that’s obstructing your lungs.”

“Well, you could’ve given me some water or something.”

“Nope. You gotta get that out, then…” She lifted London’s mug, “…take a sip of your cocoa.”

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