29. Point-of-View 🥄

We didn't make anymore stops, and I wasn't complaining. We listened to music the rest of the way to Yellow Sand Beach. It was amazing how many songs we knew together. Not one song on A.B.'s playlist was a song that I didn't like.

A.B. parked the truck in front of a small house that was slightly lifted off the ground. It was a beach house for sure. The sand was right there. Just behind it, I could see the ocean. "I've never been to a beach house before."

"I'll give you a tour when we get inside." A.B. got out the truck and grabbed his bags.

Before he could open my door, I was standing in front of the truck with my bags in hand.

"I got that." A.B. took my bags from me.

"Why thank you, my good sir." I spoke in a random accent that I'm sure wasn't accurate.

He imitated me. "Why you are very welcome, my lady." We both laughed.

I followed A.B. to the front door, hidden under a small wooden porch. He unlocked and opened the door, allowing me to walk inside first. I could see straight into the backyard or the beach-yard through the sliding glass doors. "That's a beautiful view."

A.B. turned on the light.

"Oh, wow!" I looked around. "Everything is... right here." I realized that we were in a, umm... living room, kitchen type of space. What are those called?

"It's a loft. The bathroom across the living area. The bedroom is upstairs. It doesn't have a door for the purpose of that view."

It's a small interior, but we're only here for a few hours.

A.B. placed our bags in a large loveseat that was facing the large sliding glass doors. There was a sofa against the only wall that was free of a door. The décor wasn't anything fancy. The colors were dark brown and brown and... an off white or was it that a light tan? Anyway, it works.

Several questions began to flood my head. I didn't know which one to start with. Is this where A.B. lived before he came back to East Grove? What kind of business meets at the beach?

"I don't know about you? But your mom's beef stew and cornbread sounds good right-about-now." A.B. placed the bag of food that my mom made for us on the kitchen counter.

"Yes, it does." I took off my sweater and placed it on our bags. I walked over to the kitchen to wash my hands.

A.B. turned the knob and the water poured down in the sink. I wet my hands a bit before taking them away from the water. He grabbed the soap container and put a small amount in the palm my hand.

"Thank you." I began to lather the soap.

I watched A.B. do the same. It was kinda funny, because we were shoulder-to-shoulder, washing our hands the same way. Lather, scrub the palms, in-between the fingers, don't forget the wrists, and the back of the hands.

I put my hands under the water and watched the soap bubbles vanish. Next to the sink was a roll of paper towels. I grabbed one and dried my hands off. As A.B. rinsed his hands, I opened the bag of food, removing the lid from both plastic containers.

A.B. grabbed two glass bowls from the cabinet and sat one next to each container. "They're clean. The housekeeper comes two, sometimes, three times a month to dust and clean."

"Housekeeper?" There goes my first question.

"Yeah. My mom thought it would be a good idea since no one comes here much." A.B. grabbed a spoon and used it to empty the stew from the plastic containers into the glass bowls.

"Did you used to live here?" I asked him.

"No, but I've stayed here a few times. The longest I ever stayed was for a week, I think. Not having internet got old."

"There's no internet here?" We're definitely staying for a few hours.

"No internet, but there's a coffee shop that I would walk to every morning just for the internet."

"What did you do mostly?"

He answered, "Go to the side of the beach that was closest to the coffee shop."

"So, where did you live before you came to East Grove?"

"Westchester."

My brows met. "That's the suburbs."

"It's not what it used to be."

I leaned against the kitchen counter. "Is that why you went back to East Grove?" My questions were really coming together.

A.B. thought before saying, "I was planning to go back to East Grove, but not this soon. Three months ago, my business partner moved out of the state. He wants me to either sell all the properties we own together or buy him out. He doesn't want to own any property here since he doesn't live in this state, anymore."

"That's understandable." At the same time, this business partner sounds kinda selfish.

"Do you like your cornbread in the stew?" A.B. asked me.

"Umm, yes." I drew an imaginary check mark in the air with my finger.

A.B. added a slice of cornbread to each bowl of beef stew. He closed the microwave door and started it, again. "So, I've already bought him out of a few of our properties, but this one I've debated on since he moved."

I folded my arms. "How did y'all become business partners?"

"We met about ten years ago at East Grove Community College. It was either in my math or science class when I met another student who was looking for a roommate. We became best friends. He taught me a lot about the business since his family is all about investing, stocks, and real estate. This beach house was one of our first properties that we purchased. It's the only one for personal use. We even let our families use it."

I hesitated, trying to make sure I chose my words carefully. Then, I said, "A.B., I thought you were somewhat struggling. You were talking about not knowing what you wanted to do, and how you wanted your own business. Sir, you've been paying for everything. Then, we get here and you tell me you own this beach house and a lot of other properties. I'm really surprised."

A.B. stopped the microwave. "Jamie, I'm sorry I gave you that impression. This might sound bad or even ignorant, but I view business owners like my mom and my uncles. They have to go in daily or weekly to check on their stores. They have people working for them. They're feeding families."

I watched A.B. as he talked. He always looks so passionate when he talks.

He looked at me. "I'm an investor. I don't have a set schedule. I know that what I do is probably something most people dream of, but I want to do more. I want that responsibility."

A.B. took the bowls out of the microwave and placed each one on top of an oven mitt. He handed one to me with a spoon.

"Thank you. Can we eat on the couch?" I asked him.

"Anywhere you want." A.B. told me.

I took a few steps over to the couch and claimed my spot.

"There's nothing to drink in the fridge. You okay with room temperature water?"

"I am," I replied.

Within seconds, A.B. joined me on the couch, putting two water bottles on the coffee table. After blessing the food, he asked if I was hot or cold.

"I'm a little hot." Thanks to the blazing sun outside.

A.B. picked up a remote and aimed it at the thermostat. I could hear the sound of the AC ready to blast through the vents. "Give it about two minutes."

"Okay. Back to you. I get your business partner moving, and you wanting to have more responsibility, but why East Grove? You can go anywhere."

"It's my hometown. I grew up there. I just want to add to the community. Going back, I was expecting some changes, but it looks the exact same. That's why I'm working at the music store. I want to help my uncle as well as get to know some of the people before I start working on things."

That's a great answer. What am I? A job interviewer? "That's good, A.B." I blew over my hot beef stew to cool it down. "Can I ask you one more question?"

"You can ask me anything you want as many times as you want," he told me.

His eyes. His voice. His words. I quickly looked at my bowl of stew. "Do you remember what you told me when I was having a hard time making a decision?"

A.B. was quiet.

I stated, "You told me not to worry and to let God take care of it." I glanced at him.

His eyes seemed to light up. "I told you that?"

"You did. And I made the decision to go to California. Whether I made the right or wrong decision is still to be determined, but I did it."

"I can't believe I forgot about that conversation we had. This is why talking with other believers is so important. Fellowship is important. We have to make sure we hold each other accountable, because we sometimes forget that God can do anything. Our problems are not bigger than Him."

"So true." I have to keep that in mind. I took a bite of the beef stew. Shoutout to my mom, because my taste buds are dancing.

"This is really good. You have to tell your mom to make more."

I shook my head. "You will get invites all the time if I tell my mama you said that."

A.B. chuckled, "I'm not complaining."

"I am, though," I admitted. "But back to you making a decision."

A.B. took another bite of beef stew. "I've been praying about it. How about this? I will make a decision when we get back to your house."

"Good. I'll pray for you, too." I took another bite of my food.

"I appreciate that, Jamie." A.B. took two more bites and he placed the empty bowl on the coffee table. Then, he took his paper towel, folded it into a square, and wiped his mouth in one circle.

I would be lying if I said I wasn't attracted to him. Everything he did or said was elevated. The man's handsome just like Zeke, but A.B. is more open and nicer than Zeke.

And why am I still hot? I thought the AC was on. I looked at my half empty bowl to see a half bitten pepper. My mom put peppers in this beef stew? No wonder!

"When you finish eating, we can take a walk and check out some of the local shops before my meeting. It's in an hour."

"Where will it be?" I asked.

A.B. smiled, "It's online."

I smacked my lips. "Now, you know you need the internet for that."

We both laughed.

Now, I was feeling full. "I'm gonna need to walk this full belly off for sure." I took one more bite of my food and placed the bowl on the coffee table.

"Me, too." A.B. picked up his water bottle and unscrewed the cap to drink it. Within seconds, the bottle was empty. He put the cap back on and looked at me.

I quickly looked away. I might have to start closing my eyes when he's in front of me or else I'll fall into a trance.