Just Right Novels & Stories

Each rough part stayed exactly where it belonged. The End.

“You are perfect.” *~ The End ~*

Not this early * * *

“What could possibly be wrong with me? Let Helen dream for a couple more days. Once she sets foot in the Gregory family’s mansion tomorrow, she’ll have plenty to cry about.” Yet, for some reason, when his eyes fell again on the dress Rachel was wearing, it suddenly looked out of place. His voice softened, his expression dark and unreadable. “Rachel, don’t wear this dress anymore. I’ll buy you a new one.” … I didn’t want to see that shameless couple for another second. But the thought of my carefully designed dress being desecrated still left me feeling wronged. On the way home, Connor kept calling, which only made me more annoyed. I turned off my phone. Even though my mind told me I had let

I genuinely, after four years, did not know. My phone lit up on the table. I almost didn't look. I was in the middle of laughing at Emma's impression of Marcus attempting to have a calm, adult conversation with the neighbor, which apparently involved a great deal of hand gestures and at least one dramatic pointing at a parking space, and I was laughing harder than I had laughed in as long as I could remember, tears beginning to form at the corners of my eyes…. The notification banner sat at the top of my screen. EMAIL: Hartley & Associates — RE: Pritchett v. Daniels — URGENT

I muttered, trying for a smile. I smacked her hand. “Ouch...hey??” “You can have any” I told her, picking it up. Ada followed her in, checking a small folder in her hands. “Vitals before breakfast,” she said gently. Aria rolled her eyes but held out her arm. I watched Ada wrap the cuff around her bicep, her movements efficient but never rushed. When the machine beeped, she scribbled the numbers without fuss. “Still good,” Ada said.

Tom whistles. “You look good,” Mo says on approval. “I like this waves. And the outfits.” She eyes me from top to bottom and nods. “I like it too,” I replay, grinning. “I hope it’s not too much.” “Nah, girl, you’re perfect.” She untangles herself from Tom and stands to smooch my temple. “I feel like a proud momma sending her daughter to her first prom.” She fake wipes her eyes. Tom shakes his head at her antic. “Darling, let the girl be.” He pulls her down. “You’ll be fine, Bry,” he says to me in his thick British accent. “Just be you. If he’s the right one, then everything will be alright.”

It still amazed her that she was finally the owner of her own business. Troy had just finished his baking for the evening when she slipped into the apartment. The last item was the orange cranberry muffins which were Juicy's favorite. He had actually just placed the last golden brown muffin into an oversized food storage container. Now everything felt right in the world. Juicy was home, the apartment smelled of fresh baked bread, and her pretty brown face held a smile that was now so natural as if she hadn't been that 'angry black woman' almost half a year ago.

Just us. For now. *

Because right now… Enough was exactly what I needed.