Forgivin' Ain't Forgettin' Read Free Page A

remained a wise decision.
    The driver, who’d introduced himself as Benny at the airport, spoke with certainty. “I’m sure you missed your little girl.”
    Cassidy frowned, and Benny pointed toward the walkway leading to the brick house. A toy Corvette with an African American Barbie doll lounging in the passenger seat was parked in the dirt beneath a manicured shrub. Cassidy rubbed a hand over her microbraids from the start of her hairline to the bun at the back of her head. “One of the neighborhood girls must have left it there,” she said. No children lived at this address, just she and her great-aunt, Odessa. Several years prior, upon completion of graduate school, Cassidy had planned on moving out of Odessa’s house and renting an apartment. But Odessa had suggested that Cassidy continue living here and they would share the household bills.
    Cassidy grinned as she thought of how surprised Odessa was going to be. Cassidy hadn’t told her she was returning today.
    Benny lifted a large suitcase from the trunk and started toward the house.
    “No,” Cassidy objected right away, “I can handle that.” Benny shrugged and placed the luggage at the edge of the walkway, and she handed him the fare with a generous tip.
    Rounding his vehicle to the driver’s side, Benny shouted, “Enjoy the rest of the day . . . and the summer.”
    Cassidy planned to enjoy every remaining slice of summer vacation. Breathing in the delicate fragrance of her aunt’s small garden, she flung aside the memory of Larenz Flemings, the man she’d dated at this time last year. Cassidy already vowed that
this
summer would be better, brighter, and by all means date-free, with the exception of Oliver Toby. Cassidy and Oliver Toby had a date every Wednesday afternoon.
    A group of elementary-age girls drove by on bicycles, and Cassidy smiled, ACES stamped on her thoughts. The tutorial center, stationed in Charity Community Church, had been her idea. She had named it the Academic and Cultural Enrichment School. And while ACES had been left in capable hands, Cassidy was eager to return. The students weren’t just students. They were her children, those she loved and those who loved her.
    The wind chimes hanging in the far corner of the porch tinkled as Cassidy looked over at her car, parked on the street. The previously owned Accord, hers for the last eight years, had been grounded, in need of significant repairs. Cassidy sauntered closer to the car and removed a brochure clamped beneath the windshield wiper. She skimmed the advertisement, an announcement detailing the grand opening of another neighborhood pizzeria. There was no room for pizza in Cassidy’s diet, so she crumpled the paper into a ball and stuffed the wad into her pocket. She continued to study the car and decided it must have rained a lot while she’d been out of town, because except for the bird droppings splattered on the windshield, her car was immaculate, the front bumper “burnished to a luminous shine,” she remarked to a squirrel scampering up a telephone pole.
    Burnish.
    It was Cassidy’s word for the week. She collected words the way some people collected stamps or dolls or coins.
    “Cassie gal, is that you?” Emma Purdue, Cassidy’s longtime next-door neighbor, wobbled out onto her porch. Cassidy smiled in the direction of Emma’s loud voice as Emma limped down the steps and along the walkway with the assistance of a cane.
    “Yes, Ms. Emma, it’s me.” Cassidy advanced upon the only person in the world who called her Cassie. Emma Purdue, slightly deaf in both ears and adamant about not needing the support of hearing aids, had yet to discover that Cassidy’s real name was Cassidy. With folks like Emma, once something got stuck in their head, it seemed to stay that way, and no matter how zealously the rest of the world poked, prodded, or protested, it didn’t change a thing. Cassidy had long ago accepted that to Emma Purdue she would probably remain