“I’m the one who should be askingyouthat question. Wait—are you sick?” Ashanti asked. “You sound horrible.”
Evie jumped on the excuse. “Yeah,” she said, punctuating her lie with a cough.
“Is it COVID?” Ashanti asked.
“I don’t think so.”
“Well, did Cam stay home to take care of you? Is he monitoring your temperature? Is he diffusing eucalyptus?”
“Cam isn’t here. I sent him away.” The words shot another jab of pain straight to Evie’s chest, proving she did indeed still have some feelings left in her bones. “I’m not sure if I’m contagious and I don’t want him to get sick.”
Another lie. She would hold a celebratory breakdance performance in the middle of Jackson Square if Cameron came down with the worst case of food poisoning known to man, complete with explosive diarrhea. But she wasn’t ready to talk about what happened yesterday, even with her best friend.
“Girl, I’m coming over,” Ashanti said. “I’ll wear a mask.”
“No!” Evie shouted. She added another fake cough that turned into a fit of real ones. That’s what she got for lying. She rested her head in her upturned palm and released a weary breath. “I’ll be fine, Shanti. I just need rest.”
“Are you sure about that? Didn’t you tell me years ago that you once suffered from asthma?”
“I haven’t had an asthma attack since I was in kindergarten,” Evie said, then reiterated, “I’ll be fine. I promise to check in with you tonight.”
“Nope. In an hour. And then every hour after.”
Evie rolled her eyes. “Exactly how am I supposed to get any rest if I have to check in every hour?”
There was a pause, then an exasperated, “Fine.I’llcallyoulater tonight. You get one missed call, Ev. If I call a second time and you don’t pick up, I’m coming with the fire department and we’re tearing down the door.”
“You know where I keep my spare key,” Evie reminded her.
“Duh. The fire department thing was for dramatic effect,” Ashanti said.
“Bye, Shanti,” Evie said.
“Call me if you need anything,” Ashanti said. “Love you, girl.”
“Love you too.”
Evie set the phone on the table and, for the first time since last night, when she’d cried into the pillow in the guest room, felt tears welling in her eyes. She held them back because the time for crying was over, even if they were happy tears.
Looking back on the maelstrom of emotions she’d battled over the past twenty-four hours, gratitude had not been one of them. But just a few minutes on the phone with one of her best friends reminded Evie of just how blessed she was when it came to the people whotrulycared about her.
She picked up the remote and switched fromLa La Landto her problematic fave,Love & Basketball. Instead of stopping the movie after Monica and Quincy’s college breakup, she let it continue to play through Monica’s stint with the internationalwomen’s basketball league in Barcelona and to her eventual return to Los Angeles.
Just as the opening notes of Meshell Ndegeocello’s soulful “Fool of Me” began to stream from the surround-sound speakers, the front doorbell rang.
“Ugh. Why?” Evie said as she pushed up from the sofa. If this was yet another person inquiring about her interest in selling her house, she would scream.
She made a mental note to order a doorbell camera. Cameron had never wanted one, had said they were too invasive. After yesterday’s revelation, Evie realized it was more than likely because having the camera would have made it easier to catch him during one of his daytime trysts.
Goodness, she felt like a fool.
She opened the door and found a brown paper grocery bag on the front step. The top was folded over and stapled together.
“What the—” Evie said, hefting up the bag.
“Grocery delivery,” a young guy with shoulder-length dreads called from the sidewalk. “The person who ordered it”—he glanced at his phone—“Ashanti Wright, said you may be contagious, so I didn’t want to get too close. Hope you feel better. Have a good one.” He waved, then hopped onto a bicycle that he’d propped against her neighbor’s Little Free Library and pedaled toward Napoleon Avenue.
Evie brought the grocery bag into the kitchen. The moment she opened it, the tears she’d managed to suppress for much of the day began streaming down her face.
