2021.06.19 08:23 elevendigits 210619 Jisoo IG Update
2021.06.19 08:23 emlyic My nearly 14 year old baby had surprise major dental surgery a week ago. She’s healing amazing and is better than ever!
2021.06.19 08:23 autobot_9000 @AcnhObojene: RT @nadine_crossing: Welcome to Sōra 🎋💮 DA-4931-6049-5344 #ACNH #AnimalCrossingNewHorizons #ACNHDesigns #AnimalCrossing #acnhinspo - Map by @wickerisland ❤ https://t.co/CksjBmoZnc
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2021.06.19 08:23 tellypat В озвучке появился 2 сезон Luis Miguel: La Serie
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2021.06.19 08:23 autobot_9000 @shi_ron_tic: RT @nadine_crossing: Welcome to Sōra 🎋💮 DA-4931-6049-5344 #ACNH #AnimalCrossingNewHorizons #ACNHDesigns #AnimalCrossing #acnhinspo - Map by @wickerisland ❤ https://t.co/CksjBmoZnc
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2021.06.19 08:23 suburez Moving from Trust Wallet to Metamask
I found at least ONE other person in this forum that is trying to find a new home after Apple killed off the Trust Wallet DApp. Anybody else? Is anyone as confused as I am by this bizaare interface? My mind is absolutely blown that I can enter in the exact same secret phrase on two devices, and end up with two completely different wallets, each unable to scan the other's QR code. This is like when an electron is in two different places at the same time, and also you don't know which electron is about to vanish, and also both of them are your crypto. What the flap! Holy jumping nodes of relativity, Batman!
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2021.06.19 08:23 MedFanGames The beast is now available :) https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/137044226/world-of-valkyr-fantasy-stl-wave-two/posts/3223777
2021.06.19 08:23 Raimonster01 ...
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2021.06.19 08:23 autobot_9000 @UtenorAme: RT @gyomori8: 湖に浮かぶチャペル⛪️🔔 花柄刺繍のドレス&シャツと白い枕木、レース編みのマイデザインを追加しました💐 ✏︎白い枕木 【MA-7280-9846-7257】 ✏︎ドレス、その他 【MA-8711-9578-2225】 ▼島クリ・マイデザ紹介 https://t.co/PJZGZOtovq #animalcrossing #ACNHDesigns #あつ森 #マイデザイン https://t.co/XE0QHtbOcR
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2021.06.19 08:23 Generical-Username Why did you do that ._. ?
2021.06.19 08:23 Automatic_Reveal_596 we miss you
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2021.06.19 08:23 autobot_9000 @SayaCloJoestar: RT @MistyCoveIsle: Studio Ghibli | Animal Crossing Crossover... a new fossil for Blathers! (Castle in the Sky) #ACNH #acnhinspo #ACNHDesign #ACNHDesigns #AnimalCrossing @JP_GHIBLI @GhibliUSA https://t.co/vkoRD4u5Ma
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2021.06.19 08:23 tha_zyko Why TF are they giving out Hell in a Cell on FREEEEEE TV???
2021.06.19 08:23 random_numb 4.76097470654
2021.06.19 08:23 epeun Heaven's cloud would have been a better title track than Ready to love
I'm not saying Ready to love is a bad song (at all), i just think heaven's cloud is much more "unique"/ attractive than ready to love. It gives me Hitorijanai vibes. Imagine a choreo and an mv for it😩 But the entire album is extremely good like tf there's no skips at all
Extra: i think the mv couldve been better, its just so messy imo but the boys looked really good
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2021.06.19 08:23 Megackleete История от 12.01.2006
Дело происходит на экзамене по ТАУ (теория автоматического управления).
Сначала небольшое отступление. Преподаватель — душка, пользоваться на
экзамене можно абсолютно всем: конспеты, учебники. Ну и дальше все
происходит следующим образом: садится студент, рассказывает билет,
преподаватель ему буквально пару вопросов что называется "в сторону", ну
и сразу понятно "в теме" человек или нет. А далее по половому признаку:
девчонкам, если чуть—чуть "в теме" — 5, "не в теме" — 4. Ну а мужикам...
короче тоже не ниже тройки.
Да, и еще, аудитория маленькая, всего в два ряда, поэтому слышно все и
Так вот. Присаживается к нему некто Леночка, очень обаятельная девчушка,
уверенно рассказывает билет, ну и как положено, получает дополнительный
— Скажите, а как вы оцениваете комплексные корни?
Ответ (немножко томно, преданно глядя преподавателю в глаза):
— На глаз, а вы?
Все присутствующие, включая препода, бились в конвульсиях под партами
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2021.06.19 08:23 HoninboShuwa FNM code for trade
2021.06.19 08:23 ---___---___- If a fat hedgehog had the power to grant you a wish only related to gardening, what would you request of that fat hedgie?
2021.06.19 08:23 gogas2 How to make Roasted Garlic & Dried Mint Yogurt Pasta with Aromatic Chickpeas & Mushroom Mince & Crunchy Pine Nuts
|submitted by gogas2 to VegRecipes [link] [comments]|
2021.06.19 08:23 AObviouslyTakenUser Why do you like bands/performers that you like?
2021.06.19 08:23 SuperTriforce123 I decided to accept a shallot since people on Reddit said he wasn’t bad for the raid. He does no damage and the player behind the shallot is usually a complete brainlet. So don’t accept them.
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2021.06.19 08:23 SnoogleWithMe i want to die
|submitted by SnoogleWithMe to Memes_Of_The_Dank [link] [comments]|
2021.06.19 08:23 Aerialgod Marowak raid
2021.06.19 08:23 ZoolShop Want to help a dog brother out!
|submitted by ZoolShop to CoinTuta [link] [comments]|
2021.06.19 08:23 thehorrorwriter2 The Black Witch Of Bainbridge [Part 1/2]
Everything was perfect. Perfect ever since Martin and I met, since we got married, and damn sure since we had Jimmy and Carol.
Leading up to Martin moving us back to his hometown in Bainbridge, Georgia, we’d enjoyed seven years of bliss. There was nothing to disrupt our perfect lives, nothing to hurt our happiness… By now, Martin had kicked the drug habit he’d suffered before he and I had tied the knot. Given our ten-year age difference, I never knew the extent of his meth addiction nor did I wanna know. What was the past was the past for a reason.
If anything, moving us all back to Bainbridge wasn’t so much a homecoming as a final piece to our family. We had a little pretty house on Liz Felty Lane, in the heart of suburbia. A great school district, and most of all, we had safety in the form of a low crime rate and friendly small-town neighbors.
My remote call center job allowed me to spend more time with the kids while Martin held down the fort as the manager over at Auto Zone. I thought we had it all then. I really did.
We’d moved in April and somehow, the heat was worse in Bainbridge than Atlanta. Then there were the little gnats, that seemed to flourish in our new neck of the woods… But still, I was happy. We all were during those first few months… At least, I thought Martin was.
By June, we’d largely settled down. Sure, this wasn’t a big town of flashy lights and spectacular events, but I didn’t need all that when I had a family. By day, the calls were irritating but tolerable. And by the time four o’clock rolled around, I still had time to take the kids to Dairy Queen or drive over to the boat basin and city park. We had plenty of time to enjoy our new surroundings, especially once those precious weekends and the day trips kicked in.
Martin would tag along sometime but I could tell the long hours were dragging him down. He was exhausted even when he got the occasional Saturday off.
I worried his reliance on the Coors Lights were gonna catch up to him and the decent physique he had for a forty-year-old man. A gut had definitely begun to appear through what was once a toned stomach but nothing could deter the chiseled handsome face. Not even the slight baldness he hid behind a constant UGA cap. There was also that smile I thanked God every day had survived the decay of drugs.
Usually our weekend journeys involved our neighbor Katie Green, a single mom around my age. Her daughter Frances was seven like Carol and the two of them hit it off instantly.
Katie was a local girl, born and bred in Bainbridge. Her bleached blonde hair and scattered tattoos weren’t flattering but she was still a pretty girl in my opinion. She didn’t grow up with Martin but then again, I never asked about the past. Like Martin, I didn’t think it appropriate or polite to delve into someone’s darkest secrets and damn sure not judge them for it. Why Katie hadn’t ever moved beyond the Decatur County line or why her baby daddy was out of the picture didn’t matter. Not anymore, not when she’d built a stable life for herself in the ‘burbs with a decent job as a bank teller. If anything, her maternal instincts paid off in the form of Frances’ manners and attitude… Something I found myself envious of considering Jimmy and Carol’s penchant for spontaneous yelling and profanity they’d learned off of TikTok.
I suppose Bainbridge was a small town but I had plenty to do. The kids GAVE me plenty to do. I just worried about Martin. I knew he worked hard, long days and long shifts, but he was withdrawn. Resigned. … He just seemed empty. And no matter how hard we tried, the kids and I couldn’t rescue him from what I feared was depression.
All it took was a few weeks for me to find out one of Martin’s secrets: he got back into weed.
Okay, I wasn’t complaining, I liked to smoke when I was younger too. Hell, who didn’t? But my issue wasn’t with the grass, it was with Martin.
I mean I didn’t care that he drank his fill of cheap beer nor did I worry about the weed, I was just worried the combo would drive him further away from us: his own damn family. And I was especially worried considering his dealer was one Leslie Clemente. A woman I came to learn was known as The Black Witch Of Bainbridge.
Katie knew of her. Leslie was apparently a living legend. And after me pestering him for a few days, Martin finally brought me with him to go visit her house down the road, a nice little suburban house a mere couple hundred feet away from our family’s fortress.
Leslie’s front lawn long needed a trim given the high grass and even higher weeds. Her yellow Volkswagen Bug and golf cart the only things resembling decorations for such an unattractive yard..
Upon meeting her, Leslie instantly ingrained herself in my mind. It wasn’t her five-foot-five height or craggy voice but the looks… not exotic, not extra-pretty. She had smooth skin and wore her hair in what could only be described as a millennium beehive. But between the pearly smile, the lavish eyeshadow, and cultural clothes ranging from flowing golden blouses to female pink do-rags more ripe for gypsies than Bainbridge pot dealers, I found myself enamored by the bitch. I could see her charm-
Even if I was still worried about Martin. Okay, at first, the pot had no serious effect. Certainly, no different than the forty-plus beers he guzzled down every weekend. He was still the same man I loved even when he just stayed in Bainbridge and in our Liz Felty castle all those Saturdays and Sundays. Martin’s personality and sense of humor was still there even when he was high as a kite.
But deep down, I still worried. I didn’t want Martin going down that dark path again… albeit, to my relief, he didn’t stray anywhere near the hard stuff. If anything, my only concern was him going to Leslie’s house damn near every other day to smoke with her.
Call it jealousy or bitchy envy. I don’t know… I just preferred my man at home or with me and the kids. Not slowly but definitely surely I grew more paranoid of Martin’s whereabouts or better yet, his intentions.
Maybe the suspicion grew from my own insecurities. Maybe because I didn’t smoke unlike my husband. Or Hell, maybe because I just didn’t trust Leslie and her strangely engaging personality/antics.
Katie proved little help. Especially the way she described Leslie as a local legend, as a woman who’d had a record of homewrecking… and a record of occult activity. Nothing deadly but weird. There were accusations of being out late into the night trespassing, several dead animal carcasses said to be gathering flies on her property, and above all, Leslie being a witch who sold potions in addition to marijuana.
These allegations were certainly bizarre. But what struck me most was the nonchalant way Katie described them… and of course, all Martin did was drunkenly laugh off these claims.
“A witch?” he’d scoffed in the kitchen during one of our drunken Friday nights, Martin’s dimples still visible amidst the scraggly beard. “Goddamn, babe, this is Bainbridge not Salem.”
The collision between Katie’s scary confidence and Martin’s skepticism caught me in the crossfires of confusion. This was a weird fucking town, after all… And throughout this slice of summer drama, Leslie and I rarely talked. Nothing more than a greeting and a goodbye any time Martin had her stop by real quick… Even out in the neighborhood, I never got anything more than a nod from her whenever I saw her in the wild, usually when she was out driving her golf cart.
Obviously, I still had fun with the kids. Still did the work I had to do, still had my daily wine, had the day trips, and consumed my trash reality T.V.. But a fear lingered in the back of my mind… especially the more and more Martin became absent on the weekends. The later his hours became at Auto Zone. What if he was cheating on me? Or more realistically, what if he was relapsing into something worse? For all the bullshit stigmas people throw on weed, marijuana was a change for Martin and I’s relationship. And as always, I feared the worst.
Like the cheapest shrink in Bainbridge, Katie was actually there for me. Her counseling room was her living room, the Pinot Noir her prescribed medication for me. Okay, so these sessions weren’t all that effective until inspiration struck. In fact, Katie was the one to come up with the idea that I join both Martin and Leslie for one of their smokes.
Now I’d been there to meet Leslie but never to join one of her and Martin’s smoke sessions. I mean I wasn’t a prude either. I’d been drinking since high school and gotten high throughout college… There were just a few concerns lingering. Namely how would Leslie and Martin react to me being there. Would Martin be mad, Leslie jealous? … And okay, so I was worried that me being a lightweight jumping back into the greenery might not end so well.
But still I proposed the idea to Martin… and he was surprisingly excited. That following Saturday, he planned to bring me with him while Katie babysat the kids.
Of course, jealousy, a self-conscious vibe sunk into my sanity. Here I was barely thirty, in great shape (no rolls anyway) and a mama who could keep her cool… and yet high school insecurities were crushing me over a drug dealer thirty years older than me. A literal witch at that.
My inner coach told me not to worry. That I was still pretty, that Martin still loved me… Yet there I was Saturday at noon prepping myself as if I were about to hit up the club. I wore a nice flowery (and flattering) summer dress I’d been saving for a real vacation. My foundation and lipstick were on point, I straightened my frizzy dark hair. The whole fucking works… all just to get high.
To my surprise (and relief), there was nothing explicitly witchy about Leslie’s home. Besides the tall grass, everything was clean and neatly arranged inside.
Immediately, Leslie led us from the unforgiving heat to a most potent air conditioning. Leslie’s house a walk-in freezer, her walls a margarita color decorated by African tribal art. But these were friendly animal figurines or smiling faces, nothing ominous. I saw no black cats or cackling old women anyway.
Even the cold was welcome. The type of temperature you felt from an ocean breeze instead of anything too bone-chilling. Overall, Martin and I were comfortable in Leslie’s spacious living room… Then again, maybe the constant New Age music emanating off the flatscreen was what really soothed me over Leslie’s silent demeanor. The colorful chairs and sofas also contributed to the college dorm atmosphere.
Seated with Martin on a couch, we watched Leslie retrieve a Ziploc bag and pack of wrappers. I watched her get to work, rolling one of the fattest joints I’d ever laid eyes on. Definitely one of the most potent judging by the loud smell, a scent that permeated the room upon light.
Martin took off his cap and squeezed my leg, giving me reassurance I needed. “Hey, you got this. Just.” Smiling, he held his hands out, talking me off the ledge of anxiety. “Just relax.”
“He’s right,” Leslie said with a toothy smile.
So I gave in… not so much to my chagrin as my lingering unease. Here I was about to find out firsthand why my husband kept coming back to this little old lady’s house.
Immediately, I found out. The high went beyond wine and well beyond the Coors. I felt a haze after only a handful of hits.
Then again, the room swirled but I never felt paranoid, never felt the negative side of smoking weed. I felt neither happy nor sad, not with Martin by my side, him and Leslie’s constant laughter a soundtrack that didn’t bother me…
If anything, I’d strayed somewhere exotic. Somewhere colorful. A new continent I couldn’t recognize regardless of Leslie’s displayed art and artifacts. I felt a subdued excitement. Especially once I could differentiate each instrument on the New Wave music, each of their respective rhythms. I felt immersed in it. Goddamn, I was high!
While Martin and Leslie chatted and shared chuckles, I cuddled up next to him. My arms wrapped around his neck. I even felt myself joining in the laughter.
I don’t know when I passed out. I just hoped I did. I hoped what I saw over the next few hours was the stuff of nightmare.
Given the daze, I figured Leslie and Martin making out had to be part of some paranoia fever dream. Something the weed concocted. At least, that’s what I hoped… especially when I looked back on the visual and remembered how helpless I felt on that sofa.
There the two of them were on Leslie’s psychedelic loveseat, the plush cushions struggling to hold up against such a passionate embrace. Leslie felt all along my man’s chest, hips, and ass, Martin all too eager to return the favor. The two of them buried their faces in one another.
I hadn’t seen that sort of sloppy kissing since high school… Nor had I witnessed that level of unrestrained lust since then. Deep in my heart, I wasn’t so much mad as jealous.
But when Leslie pulled back for a brief reprieve from the steam, I noticed something else, something I should’ve noticed earlier. There were no wrinkles on her face, no ounce of flab on that fine body. This was a different woman entirely. A young black woman with big brown eyes and a stylish longer hairstyle that couldn’t have been older than me… and she was hot.
My envy hit its red peak. Smoke didn’t shoot out my ears but my soul. Even this stoned, I could feel myself stumble from my sleep, stumble off the sofa. I felt all the anger build inside me, motivating me to kick this girl and my husband’s ass!
Needless to say, I felt stupid when I woke up from the haze to see I was back at home at seven o’clock at night. I then panicked when I realized I was alone in the bedroom. Where the Hell was Martin? Had he made off with the woman in my dreams, Hell, or more than likely with Leslie?
I stumbled out of bed but not before slamming my foot straight into one of Jimmy’s toy Tonka trucks. The pain was immense, my “Fuck!” definitely audible through the neighborhood, but I kept going.
In the living room, I came to a startled stop. A pleasantly surprised one. There was Martin not with that young woman from my dreams or the older Leslie of my nightmares but with our two kids who never looked more adorable… Martin hadn’t looked this happy since Christmas.
Okay, maybe the weed played a part in his laughter but in his defense, they were watching one of the funnier Spongebob episodes.
“Hey, Sleeping Beauty!” Martin teased me.
Unable to hide my shit-eating grin, I just turned away, the relieved euphoria enough to make up for the embarrassment I’d probably feel later when I was a little more sober.
Together, the four of us stayed up late for more cartoons. The vibes, the mood, the family connection between all of us not this strong since moving to Bainbridge. I was glad to have Martin back, but most of all, glad to see the bond back.
As the kids dozed off, Martin told me how glad he was I’d come over and smoked with them. How much more comfortable it made him feel, how much more he could trust me now… and how cute I looked when I was that high.
Okay, I was feeling it. Partly due to the weed, partly due to the few glasses of wine I had, and partly due to the midnight cool that was more than welcome after another hot and muggy day. But most of all, I was glad to be back in Martin’s arms again.
After laying the kids in their bedrooms, Martin and I finished the evening off in our own private space. The first time we’d had sex in weeks and the best it’d been since Atlanta. I ran my hands all over his body, savoring the touch of his chest, ass, hips, and arms… just as I’d hoped he was enjoying doing the same to me.
The intimacy was nice. Okay, incredible. The experience was like we were exploring each other for the first time as lovestruck teenagers… not as two jaded parents veering near middle-age.
“I love you,” Martin whispered to me.
Needless to say, I said the same.
At a certain point, I passed out. I guessed Martin did shortly after.
Even after a fun evening and even more fun night, I didn’t sleep well. I tossed and turned, nothing ever comfortable or calm. Somehow, someway, Leslie’s New Age music, now tuned to a tribal beat echoed through my mind. The paranoia had returned (I wouldn’t dare label it jealousy).
Finally, I just went into fuck it mode and opened my eyes. Martin was out snoring by my side. Common when he was drunk and more noticeable when he passed out high. But through the bedside-lamp-light, I could still make out our framed pictures, Jimmy and Carol’s many toys scattered along on the floor, a flatscreen only used for sports and reality shows, and our lone window in the corner. The curtains pulled over what I was sure was a pitch black Georgia night.
At first, nothing but a comfortable silence lingered.Nothing but the sounds of a suburban family that’d long gone to sleep-
That is, until I heard that first rapping noise, a consistent, cold touch hitting the window’s glass. The sound echoed toward me… and instantly, sent chills down my spine. Each tap separated by a brief, brutal silence before returning to torment me.
I felt compelled. I had to see who the culprit was. Moving slow and silent, I got off the bed and left Martin behind as I approached the window, my footsteps soft but succinct… All while the intermittent taps continued. I reached out toward the curtain but hesitated.
Another quick rap rattled the curtains more than a harsh breeze would. Certainly, the sound wasn’t music to my ears. I felt fear at this point… But that didn’t stop me.
I pulled the curtain back. Then I jumped back. I recoiled at the sight of Leslie staring back at me! Leslie wore the same clothes from earlier, the summer breeze emerging in the late hour to whip through her weave and colorful headband.
Leslie just looked on at me, Leslie not startled. Certainly, not scared. Instead, her gaze stayed straight on me, her eyes never blinking, her body not shivering, the blank canvas of a facial expression never changing.
Before I could scream what the fuck, Leslie backed off into the darkness behind her. For what I sure was certain was the golf cart lurking somewhere in our front yard. Leslie disappeared as a spirit in the night.
Of course, I freaked the fuck out. I woke up a groggy and annoyed Martin, but upon inspection, we found nothing in our yard, Hell, not even a footprint. But that didn’t stop my suspicions or fears… certainly not my paranoia.
Martin went to bed soon after. But I damn sure didn’t.
Maybe I was dreaming but I had my doubts… I wasn’t that high nor that drunk. I knew what I saw outside that window and it was Leslie Clemente in all her eccentric glory. A woman that was stalking me but more than likely, just stalking my husband.
The next morning, Martin went to work. For once, I wasn’t upset, especially knowing he wasn’t mysteriously called in, but also because him being out the picture meant I had a day where I could play investigator.
There was a glass of wine or two, sure, but I stayed responsible enough to let the kids stay with Katie and Frances for a few hours. I had a meeting to attend to with Leslie. One she wasn’t expecting.
Around lunchtime, I walked up to Leslie’s front porch, the day well beyond humid, the neighborhood beyond desolate. I gave a few knocks before taking a step back… Then the door swung open.
I leaned in closer, ready for Leslie’s theatrics, her flamboyant make-up and latest hairstyle. Her charm, that is… But I was in for a surprise.
First, that air conditioning hit me in what was seemingly a blizzard brigade. Then I noticed a younger woman standing in the doorway. I wouldn’t say she was prettier but definitely hotter than Leslie. Amidst the fear freezing my blood, I recognized her as the woman from my nightmare... and maybe the woman of Martin’s dreams.
She had the same long hair, the same big brown eyes. And she was even prettier in person.
I stood there, startled, unable to say a word. The girl looked back at me with more subtle shock. An awkward moment lingered…
“Is Leslie home?” I finally mustered out. I then leaned in closer without being intrusive, just close enough for a glimpse at the living room the doorway led into.
“Uh,” the girl hesitated.
As she struggled for an answer, I looked on inside the room. There were the African art pieces, Leslie’s T.V. The same scene I’d found myself high as shit in a mere twenty-four hours ago.
“She’s not home right now,” the young woman finally answered, her voice delicate and soft. Naive even.
But I didn’t pay attention to her or her discomfort when a certain baseball cap caught my attention… one lying on the couch Martin and I had sat on. The UGA hat was unmistakable: it was Martin’s cap.
“Hey,” I said as I pointed the girl toward the cap. “That’s Martin’s, right?” my voice blurted, a tone I had no control over for better or worse… not when the emotions were getting this out-of-hand.
The woman gave me a confused look, some worry crashing through her pretty face. “Oh. Uh…” She placed a hand against the front door and turned… more than eager to avoid my suspicious gaze.
“Hey, I’m sorry,” I started. Keeping my envy in check, I held my hands up, keeping my cool. “I didn’t mean to come over bitchy or anything.”
The girl then faced me, relieved… somewhat more relaxed. “No. You’re fine.”
“It’s just, my husband and I came here yesterday.” I motioned toward the cap once more. “And that’s his hat.”
“Oh, right!” The girl got ready to turn. “I’ll get it for you-”
I reached toward her, stopping the woman. “That’s fine. But like.”
She stared on at me behind those model looks, the model body even more intimidating for my insecurities. Her brown skin was smoother than Photoshop… and that was with way less make-up on than me.
“What’s your name? Like who are you?” I forced out through the anxiety.
“Oh,” the girl said. She gave me a perfect smile. “I’m Leslie’s daughter.”
The brief shock made me silent. “Whoa, okay. What’s your name?”
Leslie’s daughter’s smile lingered. A wax smile at this point. “Uh. Noble.” She stuck her groomed hand out. “Sorry. I don’t come over that much.”
“Noble,” I repeated as I shook her hand, not too surprised by the strong grip considering her mama’s personality. “That’s a pretty name.”
Drawing my hand back, I nodded toward the cap. “But do you mind getting it for me?”
“Oh, not at all,” Noble replied. She started to turn-
Until I leaned in toward the doorway. “But is your mom home?”
Noble stopped and shook her head. “No.” With a mature poise beyond what looked to be her mid-20s (at the very latest) age, Noble motioned toward me, her expression approachable yet sympathetic. “Did you want me to give her a message or anything?” said that delicate tone.
Deep down, I berated myself and suspicions. Why the Hell did I come over here in this unbearable heat? To fight this girl’s mom? A woman I didn’t even know was a mom, a woman at least thirty years my senior that I was jealous of, and a woman I had no concrete evidence of doing anything illegal except for what I saw while blazed? Goddamn, Eve.
I waved off Noble. “Naw, don’t worry about it, I’ll just talk to her later.” Still I motioned inside toward the cap. “But if you don’t mind, giving me his cap back.”
Noble turned before giving me that smile. “Martin’s hat?”
Now I really gave her a cold look. A glower. “Uh, yeah.”
“I’ll go get it-”
“He’s my husband.”
“Oh, I know,” Noble’s casual reply.
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