The Reason Why by Vickie M. Stringer Page A

placed them inside the washer, added a cup of bleach, a scoop of laundry detergent, and turned the washer on. When he was finished, he closed the top on the washer and walked to his pantry, where he found a can of chicken noodle soup.
    Chino carried the soup to his counter, looked inside a drawer, found his can opener, and opened the soup. He looked inside his cupboard, found a microwave-safe bowl, and poured in the chicken noodle soup. He placed the bowl in his microwave.
    The microwave beeped to let him know that his soup was done. He found a spoon from his dish drawer, placed the bowl on a plate, and then found some fresh saltine crackers inside his pantry. He placed a sleeve of crackers on the plate next to the bowl, and then carried it all into the room to place the bowl of soup on the nightstand next to the bed. He left and returnedfrom the kitchen with an ice-cold glass of lemonade. He wished that he had some Sprite or 7UP to give her, but he was out. He would have to run to the store and pick some up for her later. He searched his medicine cabinet for a couple of Tylenol to help break Pam’s fever. He found a couple of extra-strength tablets and carried them back into the room with him.
    â€œWhat’s all this?” Pam asked.
    â€œIt’s your breakfast,” Chino told her.
    Pam waved him off. “I really don’t feel like eating anything.”
    â€œYou’re going to eat and get better, young lady,” Chino said, playfully. He handed her the Tylenol. “Take these.”
    Pam sat up, plopped the Tylenol into her mouth, and sipped on the lemonade. Chino took the glass, set it back down on the nightstand, as she lay back on the pillow.
    â€œSit up,” Chino told her, sitting down on the side of the bed, with the bowl of soup.
    â€œChino, I don’t feel like eating anything.”
    â€œSit up,” he gently insisted.
    Pam sat up in bed, and Chino lifted a spoonful of soup to his lips and gently blew on it.
    â€œI can’t believe you’re making me eat.”
    Chino fed Pam a spoonful of warm soup. “I have to get you better.”
    â€œDo you do this to all of your women?” Pam asked.
    â€œOnly the sick ones.” Chino winked.
    He fed her another spoonful of soup and then handed her a cracker.
    â€œI haven’t eaten soup and crackers since I was a kid,” Pam told him. “I think the last time I did, I had a cold and my mother fixed it for me.”
    Chino smiled and continued to feed her.
    Swallowing a spoonful, Pam looked at Chino, smiled, and continued. “I like how you take care of me, Chino. Are you always going to be like this?”
    â€œI’m going to try.”
    Pam ate another spoonful and nodded. “I know you are.”
    â€œIs that a bad thing?” Chino looked at Pam and dabbed the napkin at her mouth.
    â€œNo, not at all. It’s just scary, that’s all.”
    â€œWhat’s scary?”
    Pam sighed. “I’ve never heard of a man fixing his woman chicken noodle soup, let alone feeding it to her.”
    â€œSo, what are you saying?”
    â€œI’m saying, you’ve earned some major points here.”
    â€œSounds like you’re feeling a little better already.”
    â€œA good man makes his woman feel good.”
    â€œNow I’m a good man, huh?” Chino asked.
    â€œMaybe.”
    â€œHere,” Chino said, handing her the bowl of soup. “Feed your damn self.”
    â€œChino!” Pam’s eyes grew big as saucers and her mouth fell open in surprise. “I was just kidding!”
    Chino laughed at her expression, then suddenly his face became serious. “Hey, baby girl, I have to head to New York for a day or two.”
    Pam’s heart thumped hard as she sat quietly and listened.
    â€œMy man, Fabian, set me up with his cuz to take over while he’s on lockdown.”
    Chino’s recent run-in with the cops had shaken Pam up. This hustla had