“It’s okay! You probably knew me as Eugene Craig. I have a new outside gender expression, but the same bad habit of cutting people off,” she interrupted again, showing all thirty-two.
I stared, caught off-guard.Thiswas Eugene Craig? I’d had to save Eugene from tired ass bullies at Emancipation High a few times. Eugene had been a quiet kid, didn’t bother anybody, and I couldn’t stand a fucking bully. I guess I was so caught up in my thoughts that I didn’t realize how much time had passed. Truth elbowed me in the side, and I coughed to play off my rude behavior. I opened my mouth to apologize.
“I’m—”
“Jabali! Thank God you’re finally here!” Aunt Alayna exclaimed, marching out of one of the hallways that branched from the main room.
Hell, the fact that she seemed frazzled threw me off, too. I had to get shit together around here. I turned back to the desk.
“Eu— I mean, Genie, it was good seeing you again. Take care,” I said before giving my aunt all my attention. “What’s up, beautiful?”
“Y’all follow me,” she ordered, then headed back in the direction she had come from.
Truth and I looked at each other. He raised an eyebrow and I shrugged. I really had no idea what was wrong. We didn’t make it far before she was sidetracked.
“Mayor, did the committee decide what tree we’re going to decorate?” one excited citizen asked as we passed her.
My aunt laughed, not quite sounding like herself.
“Not yet. Stay tuned,” she said brightly.
We kept marching.
“Mayor, I need your signature on—” The voice stopped, gasped. Then, “Jabali Christopher, is that you? Boy, come give me a hug!”
I looked at the origin of that particularly enthusiastic greeting and tensed. Shayla Lassiter. Fake blonde bombshell. I’d made the mistake of knocking her down once in high school and had paid for it dearly. The bitch was manipulative. Vindictive. And as fake as her wheat-colored weave.
“Shayla,” I greeted tightly, skipping the hug.
She ran a speculative eye over me. She liked what she saw, if the way she stuck those expertly-installed double-Ds in my direction was any indication. She let out a husky laugh as Aunt Alayna quickly scanned the tablet she was holding, then signed it.
“Still funny-acting. Call me if you decide to let bygones be bygones,” she invited.
Truth scoffed. “You got a better chance of getting into Heaven, and we all know the devil got your suite reserved.”
The smile disappeared. The march continued.
“Oh! Mayor, Allison and I need to talk to you. We got the sponsorship for the hot chocolate and hot cider for everyone in case there’s a tree lighting,” Sol MacKenzie, who ran a local grocery store, called out.
Aunt Alayna laughed nervously again.
“That is so generous, Sol, as you always are. We’ll reach out ASAP,” she promised.
“All right. Good to see you home, Jabali. Bout time,” he said before turning back to my aunt.
I just nodded.
“Don’t forget, Mayor. We’re happy to do it. Grandkids are looking forward to seeing the trees all done up.”
After a couple of more interactions like that, I could tell she was agitated. She held it together until we made it to her office. Once we were all inside, she slumped against the door and beat on it with her fists.
“Ooh, Grindley the Grinch is getting on my damn nerves! I wish there was an eminent domain issue, because this would be so much easier!” she spat.
Any other time, I would’ve been tripping on her uncharacteristic behavior, but the name she mentioned had my head snapping up. I paused, mid-sit down to look at my aunt. Even though I knew it couldn’t bethatGrindley, couldn’t beher, shit caught me off-guard. If I were honest, I’d say my heart sped up, but I wasn’t admitting no shit like that.
“Damn, bruh, just the name get you shook up like that?” Truth jabbed.
I mugged him before sitting down.
