Page 19 of What She Deserves
7
The bowling alley downtown contained a festive atmosphere, with blaring party music and groups of friends screaming and cheering each other on.
Layla tossed the ball down the alley, and as it veered left, she angled her body to the right, as if she could telepathically force it to go down the middle.
No such luck. The ball plopped into the gutter like the one before it. She didn’t hit a single pin.
“Have you actually gotten worse?” Tamika, one of her best friends teased. She wore tight jeans with her short pixie styled in cute waves.
“Shut. Up,” Layla said, holding her head high as she marched back to her seat.
Dana, her other best friend, giggled at their antics. Full-figured, with waist-length dreadlocks and two rings in her nose, she ate a late dinner of fries and chicken tenders at the table behind the chairs. Stabbing the fries, she dipped them in ketchup on the side of the plate.
“You’re not much better,” she told Tamika.
Tamika, headed to pick up a ball, curled one hand behind her back and shot Dana a backhanded bird. As Layla and Dana laughed, she picked up a ball at the return and then smoothly sent it rolling down the alley. It crashed into the pins and knocked over six of them.
Dana and Layla cheered and clapped while Tamika did a victory dance. With focused concentration, she took her second turn and knocked down an additional two pins. Despite Dana’s teasing, Tamika ended the game as the winner, leading Dana by three points.
Dana tossed her empty plate into the trash and plopped down in front of the computer. “One more game?”
Tamika picked up her phone and checked the time, the diamond ring on her left hand picking up the overhead light. “Anton’s playing pool with his friends until eleven, so I’m good for another hour. Then I’m going home to myfiancé.”
“Do you have to say ‘my fiancé’ every time?” Dana asked.
In the chair next to Layla, Tamika glowed as she flashed a smile that extended from ear to ear. “Yes, because I like the sound of it.”
Tamika and Anton had gotten engaged last fall and were actively house-hunting while also making preliminary plans for their wedding. The happy couple had gone through a rough patch but weathered the storm together, and their young relationship became stronger as a result.
Layla still hadn’t told her girlfriends about her conversation with Rashad last night, but this lull in the game was the perfect time to do so. But first, she needed to update them on a personal matter.
“My dad started going to therapy last week, and so far so good. Mom said he’s cranky but following the doctor’s orders.”
Her father had been sideswiped in traffic a while back, a scary situation that had prompted Layla to fly to D.C. while he was hospitalized. He’d undergone surgery for a broken collarbone, but once released had also been suffering from chronic pain and stiffness in his back, knees, and neck. Since he’d healed, he was supposed to start going to a physical therapist but constantly put it off. The discomfort had finally become too much to bear, and he’d succumbed to the urging of his family and the advice of his physicians.
“And Mrs. Fleming didn’t have to put a gun to his head?” Dana asked in a dry tone.
Her friends knew how difficult her father could be. She’d talked about him often, plus they’d met him when they visited her family in D.C. As the head of a small but prestigious law firm he co-founded with his wife, Herschel Fleming craved control and couldn’t function well without said control. He also had a well-documented aversion to doctors.
“No,” Layla said with a laugh, “but I was planning to fly up there again and drag him to the doctor if he didn’t. Luckily I don’t have to.”
“Thank goodness it didn’t come to that, and if he listens to his therapist, he’ll hopefully feel better soon,” Dana said.
“What is it with men and doctors?” Tamika said.
“Hard-headed,” Dana muttered. “Every one of them is like that. Omar’s the same way. When he played football, he had no choice but to follow the team physicians’ instructions, but now that he’s retired, he acts like he’s allergic to doctors. Last month I had to remind him to take his physical, again. I literally have the yearly appointment on my calendar because if I don’t remind him, he won’t go.” She shook her head.
Silence.
“Hmm,” Tamika said, tapping her lips.
“Hmm,” Layla said too, tapping her chin.
Dana rolled her eyes and fought the smile at the corners of her mouth. “Guys, don’t start.”
“What do you mean?” Tamika asked, all wide-eyed and innocent.
“Omar and I are friends.”
