“Yeah, I got somethin’ to tell you, too. You go first,” Lola says, acting like her tea is hotter than mine. How wrong she is.
“Well, you’ll need a cocktail to hear my headline.” It’s like our first meeting at Zumba all over again, sniffing the competition, trying to one-up each other. “Ty’s not gay. And he likes me. Like, LIKE likes me,” I emphasize, in case she’s not picking up what I’m putting down.
Lola gives us the one eyebrow raise but doesn’t break stride.
“And you accidentally e-mailed that video of Nan out to the whole invite list for Aunt Viv’s party. Instead of selecting ‘Lola Valencia,’ you selected ‘Viva la Viv.’ So now Nan, your boss, and Fairchild families past, present, and a few future, think you sent out a video of Nan puttin’ you on blast.” My jaw drops. “Giiiiiiiiiiiiirl, hold on tight because it’s about to go down.”
TWENTY-SIX
Needing immediate space after hearing Lola’s breaking news, I leave Ty with a smooch and a whisper in his ear to text me and step outside for some fresh air. On the one hand, the result of my trigger finger could end up on the front page of Sunday’sChronicleas the most recent exposé of the rich and richer—something I don’t want for the Fairchild community. On the other hand, Nan brought this on herself showing her true colors by behaving so badly. Despite Nan’s actions, Fairchild is family and I’d never do anything to intentionally harm the school. I can’t believe I’m going to have to deal with this fallout during our family’s mini-vacation and Etta’s audition. Bottom line, I’m pissed at Nan for comin’ for me.
I bundle up my Bordelon bookends and order an Uber XL. As we pull away from Fairchild, Aunt Viv yawns, showing every molar and filling in her mouth. The night’s excitement is catching up with her, telling me she’s gonna blink out the minute her head hits her Posturepedic. As much as I want to let the night’s celebration settle into Aunt Viv’s bones, I know I won’t be able to sleep if I don’t tell my squad about Ty. The three of us bust up laughing when I tell themhe has it bad for me. When Aunt Viv asks how I know, I recount the details, including the toe-curling kiss. Etta can’t stop howling, but eventually is able to eke out that he seems great, and maybe a white daddy wouldn’t be so bad. Then the giggles start all over again. Aunt Viv rests her hand on my leg, leans her head back on the seat, and declares, “Well, ain’t that somethin’. A good doctor and good taste in women.”
“There’s something else, too.” Since we’re stuck in evening traffic a few blocks from home, I figure now is as good a time as any to show them the video I mistakenly sent out to the entire party invite list. The car is silent listening to Nan spew her drunken venom.
“Mama, we can turn around right now and snap that skinny stick in two.” Etta is on fire, her teenage night owl energy kicking in as the rest of the family is winding down.
“Thanks for the offer, love. I know you got my back. But our family has had enough drama for one night.” I give Etta a kiss on the cheek and open the car door as our Uber arrives in front of our building. “I think it’s best if we all focus on getting a good night’s sleep. We have a big day of travel tomorrow.”
I follow Aunt Viv to her room to say good night. I know there’s no way nothing’s going to be said before she turns out the lights.
“You learn the truth about a person when they been drinkin’,” Aunt Viv claims, sitting on her bed rubbing her feet after too many hours in heels. “And what I learned tonight is what I was suspectin’ all along. Nan Gooding is only out for herself. She don’t really care if you black, brown, red, yellow, or white. Don’t try to make a mark in her territory.”
I move to her side to help as Aunt Viv works to unclasp her necklace. “I feel sorry for her. Only carin’ ’bout yourself is a lonely place to live. I’ve been caring for Fairchild children for fifty years, you for thirty-five, and Etta for fourteen, and I ain’t ever been lonely. And you know what? I ain’t ever been unhappy, neither. Oooh, child,” shewhoops. “This was a wonderful night. I’m glad you made me go. I’ve always been proud of you and proud of Etta, but it never crossed my mind to feel proud of myself. Tonight, I do.” With a kiss good night planted firmly on my cheek, Aunt Viv waves me off to bed.
“G’night, Aunt Viv.” As I’m about to close my bedroom door, Aunt Viv’s voice floats through the apartment with one last comment for the evening. I’m not surprised, that woman likes to have the last word. “Josie, you best be givin’ that good doctor a chance. You know, you ain’t been shakin’ them sheets in a while.”
“You might be right, Aunt Viv.” I’ve been leading life with my head these last few years, but maybe it’s time I start paying attention to my heart, too.
TWENTY-SEVEN
FROM:Yu Yan (Helen) Wu
DATE:March 3, 2019
SUBJECT:Liu family
TO:Josephine Bordelon
Dear Josie,
Mr. Liu has decided his children will continue enrollment at Shanghai American School. The school has had over 40 graduates go to Harvard in the last ten years and he prefers clear numbers to Fairchild’s limited evidence. I hope Fairchild will take the Liu decision as an opportunity to better gather Ivy League acceptance statistics and market to prospective parents more aggressively. Mr. Liu will retain the property next to the school for an investment, but it is no longer available to rent for Fairchild. If the school would like to consider a sale, he is amiable to a cash offer.
Thank you,
Yu Yan (Helen) Wu
EDUCATION CONSULTANT
ADMIT INTERNATIONAL, HONG KONG
Other than Helen Wu, my inbox is mysteriously empty given the video debacle. Thank goodness because Lola and I have been blowin’ it up over text all morning breaking down this video thing. I had to keep her from marching down to lodge a complaint at the NAACP at 7:00 a.m. on a Sunday. I’m choosing to view the e-mail silence as a lukewarm sign over the fate of my job, and will do my best to leave the drama in San Francisco to focus on Etta once we hit the airport.
I couldn’t sleep last night between Nanageddon and thinking about Ty as a straight man, maybemyman and not Daniel’s husband. It hasn’t even been sixteen hours since the big reveal and already I’m acting like a fifteen-year-old girl staring at my phone wondering when he’s going to text. If he’s going to text. If indeed last night was legit or if he woke up this morning and realized it was the booze talking. He better not be waiting for me to make the next move.
Etta and Aunt Viv flank me as we wait at SFO to board our plane to JFK. Aunt Viv tells me that if I’m sittin’ next to her on the plane I have to put my damn phone away, she ain’t no stranger takin’ up a seat next to me. This is a family trip and we’re gonna spend our time with each other, whether we laughin’, cryin’, or doin’ something someplace in between.
It was a fairly quiet morning at the house, Etta giving me my space after the craziness of the night before and choosing to spend her last hours before our trip stretching so her muscles don’t stiffen on the long plane ride. Her audition is tomorrow morning and though her mother’s career may have ended last night, Etta is staying focused on the next forty-eight hours and her future. Aunt Viv puttersaround the apartment preoccupied by something, but I’m not sure what. She checks and double-checks her luggage, her purse, and her wallet. No word about Nan or the video or Ty from Aunt Viv, either. All three of us are quiet, immersed in our own worlds—past, present, and future.
