“I’m sorry it didn’t go as planned,” I said sympathetically.
She turned to look at me. “It was better than planned. It was picture-perfect, and then the rain came, and I haven’t laughed this hard in ages. Made it memorable in a different way.” She relaxed against the headrest. “I don’t think it could’ve gone better.”
Two days after that, we were still laughing about Monica’s fall. We were telling Rose about it while in the lobby of the spa.
“Welcome to your first yoni steam,” a woman greeted us, after reading our paperwork. “A yoni steam is a cleanse for your vagina and uterus. The benefits include”—she looked at me—“balancing hormones, detoxification of the uterus”—she looked at Rose—“fewer headaches, stress and depression relief”—she looked at Aunt Addy—“increased energy, and overall pain relief. The vagina is a self-cleaning organ, so this yoni steam isn’t aboutcleaning. It’s aboutcleansing.”
I looked at Aunt Addy.What the hell do you have us doing?
When it was my turn to squat over a bowl of plant-based herbs in a room covered in beautiful drapery and crystals, I had that same thought running through my head again.
This is some wild-ass shit.
When our sessions concluded, we waited for Monica to pick us up.
“It’s been a while since I’ve had that much action,” Rose joked, causing us all to laugh.
When we climbed into the van, Monica kept looking at us and shaking her head. “You know there are no medical benefits to getting a yoni steam, and in fact, you could hurt yourself if you’re not careful.”
I smiled, listening to Monica lecture Aunt Addy and Rose while the two of them made jokes like teenagers in the car with their parents.
“I’ve hurt myself squatting over more dangerous things,” Aunt Addy quipped. “I’ll be fine.”
“My first husband didn’t have medical benefits, but I let him blow off steam between my legs,” Rose added with a giggle.
“The two of you are exhausting,” Monica complained good-naturedly. “I hope it’s not going to be like this at the drive-in this weekend.”
“It’ll be worse,” the two women said in unison.
And they weren’t lying.
The horror movie they were showing at the dilapidated drive-in theater wasn’t anything Aunt Addy particularly wanted to see. But it was the only film they were showing, so Aunt Addy called a bunch of her friends and created a drinking game.
“Anytime someone falls down, we drink,” she instructed.
And we did.
The entire group had this youthful energy about them, but their ages ranged from forty-five to seventy-five.
My aunt’s friend winked at me. “When you really live, age ain’t nothing but a number.”
“I know that’s right!” Aunt Addy chimed in, and the two cackled.
I looked around at everyone hugging Aunt Addy before leaving. Having a network of people was important, but having close friends who showed up for you when you needed them was everything.
She’s blessed.
I loved watching my aunt interact with her friends. But I had to admit that it made me miss my best friends. I’d been so consumed with my time with Aunt Addy that I hadn’t talked to Nina andAaliyah. Watching my aunt’s friend open the door for his wife reminded me that I hadn’t really talked to Lamar either.
But I’d been working on his business plan.
Twice a week he’d update our shared document with notes, and in turn, in the middle of the night, I’d read the updates, respond, and make comments of my own. In his business plan, I didn’t feel any guilt for communicating with him. I was helping a friend while my aunt was resting. There was no harm in that.
We didn’t have phone conversations.
We had his business plan.
We exchanged letter-like commentary on how to make his passion project the best it could be. Sometimes our remarks were funny, but most of the time it was serious, and I was deeply impressed by how smart, how dedicated, and how inspiring he was. But it was the summary that I’d anticipate the most. The way he shared himself and his reason for the update compelled me to share mine. Even without conversing, I felt like I knew him better.
