“You’re the best, Nika. Thanks for being so patient, Shobe. Sorry for making you wait,” I say, motioning my hands like a conductor when I receive zero apologies.
Achi scoffs. “Please. It wasn’t even that long.”
“You once assigned me to write a reflection paper on ‘being considerate’ after I was late by two minutes,” I remind her, and she brushes that off.Shocker.
My attention then drifts to the headphones still plugged into the computer monitor. “What were you busy with anyway?”
“The days before Christmas break are like hell week for faculty,” she says, rolling up her charger. “They shouldn’t call it a holiday with the amount of work they pile on us, plus all the wedding suppliers seem to have forgotten how to answer their phones, so I’m stuck with a million more things to do.”
Achi being Achi, she requested that all of Ma’s weddingplanning go through her. She’s the one coordinating with the venue, the food, the supplier who agreed to Dr. Derrick’s bizarre request of handing out travel-size toothbrushes as wedding giveaways.
But if I know more details about the wedding, maybe I can figure out more ways to stop it.
I make my move when she’s distracted. The moment my achi isn’t looking, I rush behind her desk and see…
Pa on her computer screen. My whole body goes still when the details sink in. The video title, the outfit Pa used to wear every Sunday, the faces in the crowd that I now recognize from watching this video a million times.
The screen is paused on the same video I always watch—Pa playing the Mariah Carey song on the mall’s piano.
Is my sister the reason why the video keeps getting so many views?
Achi then freaks out when she sees me using her computer. “So do you just not understand the concept of boundaries?”
She grabs the mouse and quickly exits the page showing the video. My mouth’s struggling to voice all my questions when I watch her close countless tabs of the University of Florida website, the professors at the Counseling Psychology program, multiple Google searches on Florida (even one article about a Florida alligator that chased a golf cart).
I always thought that Achi was immune to strong emotions, that she was genetically built to be less affected… but maybe she feels them all too. Achi’s still pissed off by the time she logs off her browser. “I knew, Iknewyou always go through my things, but you don’t even have any boundaries in my workplace,” she grumbles, and stuffs files into her binder. “My favorite leggings, Nika? I’ve never seen them since you ‘borrowed’ them.”
“I’ll give back your leggings before you move to Florida.”
And it’s like my sister stops breathing.
“You wouldn’t be looking up the school so much if it was a joke,” I say, gesturing at the computer that had a hundred different open tabs on Florida. “You obviously want to go.”
Her voice is barely a whisper when I hear her say, “I can’t.”
My heart wants to leap out of my chest.Just agree with her! She said she can’t go so don’t let her go!But then I keep remembering her scratchy writing on her vision board notebook.My dream is to get a PhD and see the world.
“I was just exaggerating about the alligator stuff,” I tell Achi, ignoring the part of me that’s begging my mouth to shut up. “Their stamina on land is actually really bad, so if you manage to outrun them the first few minutes, you could probably survive.”
She sighs. “I’m not worried about the alligators.”
“Is it the money?” I guess. “Because I remember your offer letter mentioned some fellowship and that they’re giving you funding.”
My sister logs off her computer. “Niks, I’m not leaving you and Ma. End of story, okay?” She reaches for her handbag and takes out her gigantic shades to wear in this office with very dim lighting. As she smooths out the crumpled pages in her binder, I don’t point out that I can hear her sniffling.
Usually, this would be my signal to back off, give my sister space. It’s against our unspoken rules for me to prolong the conversation.
“I watch that video of Pa a lot too.”
Her body freezes when I speak.
“It’s the only one I can find where he sings.”
Then she says, “He could play the piano in front of anyone, but he got weirdly shy about singing.”
“That’s because he picks the hardest songs in the world.”
“His love, Mariah,” she says, laughing. She looks at me then. “I wish he got to watch you last night. He’d be really proud of you.”
