It was one week before she would celebrate the end of her fortieth year, and two weeks since her divorce became final. The wind outside justified her mood on this cold, wintry night, and it seemed that nothing was as it should be. She huffed, grabbed the quilt her old aunt Mel had given her, and moved towards the frosted window, Riunite Peach in hand. And it was there, amidst all the pain, misgivings and disappointments, between running tears and under-the-breath curses to Saint Nick, that she saw him.
"Fucking shitty ass car! Aaaah! Dammit!" There he was going on and on about his car that "fucked", while kicking it's tires and pelting it with snow. Then a lull as he placed his cellie to his ear. "Out of range my black ass!" as the cell phone too found itself deep in snow. No doubt about it, he was just as pissed as she was, if not more so.
She admonished herself for being so impulsive as she pulled on her snow boots, thought some more for about 3 seconds, then trudged out towards him.
He heard the slow crunching of snow behind him, and fearing the worst, swung around with ghetto readiness, making her freeze in her tracks.
"ummm...need some help?" Damn, Monique, all these years and THAT'S the best come on line you can come up with?
Being raised in the ghetto and now occupied by a corporate giant, he knew never to trust a stranger, male OR female. "Nah, I'll handle it."
"Typical male I see, pretending to be in control at the most inopportune times..." she smiled mischievously, and turned to walk back to her misery.
