Cane and Taylor

The woman Cane had been checking out approached him. Her wide hips only half-switching because of the laundry basket on her left hip, a bottle of Dreft detergent in it. He recognized the brand. His brother, Early, and his wife Shawna used it for his nephew’s clothes.  He sat up a little straighter.

“Hi. Sorry to trouble you. You got a five? I thought I had enough cash but forgot these raggedy machines for the laundry cards don’t take singles.”

“Yeah I should,” Cane said, taking his wallet out his pocket. He pulled out the five dollar bill and handed it to her.

“You sure you don’t need it?” She asked, handing him the five singles.

“Yeah I’m good. Can I trouble you for your name?”

She grinned, “It’s Taylor. What’s yours?”

“Devon, but everyone calls me Cane. Like sugar cane.”

“You as sweet as all that?” 

Cane grinned, catching the reference. “Why don’t you try me and see?”

“Ok we got a Zora Neale Hurston fan!” 

 “Yeah, well, I’m trying to read more of her work. I feel like a fake fan for only reading one book,” Cane said.

“I know what you mean! I just finished that new book of short stories by her, Hitting a Straight Lick with a Crooked Stick. It was so good. I might let you borrow it since you helped me out,” Taylor said.

“I’d need your number for all that,” Cane said, grinning. 

Taylor twisted up her mouth trying not to smile, but she cracked.

“Well take your phone out. I need to go start my machine.” 

“Your man’s not gonna be jealous?” Cane asked, pulling out his phone.

“Don’t have one. I do have a son,” Taylor said, her smile fading slightly. 

He noticed her stiffen. He guessed this was the part where she usually got rejected. Cane smiled. 

“Cane loves the kids. Your turn.”

Taylor relaxed and rolled her eyes, but she gave him her number. 

“I texted you,” Cane said. 

“Cool. I’ll hit you later,” she said, turning to walk away. “Thanks again.”

“I want that book,” Cane said. 

“Oh that’s all you want?” Taylor asked, grinning and glancing over her shoulder.

Cane looked her up and down and smirked, “Naw.”


Add a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *