Penelope elbows her and she winces.
“Shit, I mean. Hello, kind stranger I’ve never heard of.”
Micah rolls his eyes. “Bailey told y’all my business, didn’t she?”
Penelope holds her thumb and index fingers up. “Lil bit.”
Normally, I would be furious at my business being on front street, but this feels good. This feels like I’m on the path of something great.
“I’ma have to beat her ass,” Micah says casually.
“Umm, no, you won’t. Because who told Bailey all our business, hmm?” I chastise.
“Oh yeah, I like her,” Penelope says.
We follow the women back to their office and they direct us to sit while Penelope grabs the chair across from us and Paris stands at her back.
“So, you ready to hear us out?” Paris asks.
“I guess so,” Micah says in a somber tone.
I grab his hand to offer solidarity. He’s been there for me a lot over these past few months, and I’m honored to now be doing the same thing for him.
I squeeze his hand all throughout Paris and Penelope’s proposal, reminding him he’s not alone in this. His face is generally blank during their presentation, so I can’t get a sense of what he’s thinking except for when he squeezes my hand back. He’ll seemingly zone out and then squeeze my hand three times to let me know he’s back and focused.
This keeps going while Paris explains Micah’s function as a partner and Penelope breaks down the numbers. When they’re done, they look so proud. Micah looks unamused.
“I remember all this from the last time you made this pitch. I guess I just still don’t understand why? Being on the board I get, but why do you want me to be a partial owner?”
Paris groans in frustration. “Ugh, isn’t it obvious? It’s what Mom wanted!”
The waves from the bomb she dropped rip through the room at an alarming speed. It hits Penelope first, causing her to squeeze her eyes shut. It hits Micah next, his jaw practically hitting the floor. It hits me last, leaving my stomach in knots.
“What do you mean? Chi Chi left the place to my mom because you two were too young. What does that have to do with me?”
Penelope picks up where Paris left off. “Sometimes, it’s hard for us to remember what Mom’s voice sounded like. Last year, we found ourselves wanting to hear from her again, so we looked through our keepsake box and there was a note stuck on one of the last pages of this book she used to read to us as kids.”
“I don’t know how we missed it before,” Paris adds.
“But it was a login for an email account. She had this whole separate account that she used strictly to email herself all her dreams and aspirations. Sometimes, they were just detailed accounts of literal dreams she had the night before.”
Paris pulls out a printed copy of one of the emails and hands it to Micah. He reads it out loud, bringing the girls to tears as he recounts his aunt’s wishes that one day the three of them run the center together. How she always envisioned it that way because they were the reason she decided to stop dreaming about opening Our Place and actually do it. How she wanted them to be proud of her and wanted to leave behind something they could be proud of.
Monica must have intended to change her will to say just that once the three of them were of age, but she never got a chance. She was taken from them when Micah was just fifteen, Penelope eleven, and Paris ten.
Micah lowers the paper, tears welling up in his eyes. “I was always proud of her,” he manages to say.
“Us too,” Paris agrees. “So we asked you to be a partner because we wanted to honor her wishes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
“You weren’t ready to hear it. You pretty much shut down the conversation before it really got started. We didn’t want to tell you about Mom’s note and guilt you into it. We hoped you’d want to be a part of it,” Penelope responds.
“But you’re telling me now.”
Paris sucks her teeth. “Because if you didn’t want this, you wouldn’t be sitting in that chair. Look, you can still say no. We’re not trying to force your hand.”
“Right,” Penelope cuts in. “But for what it’s worth, we always saw the three of us doing this together too.”
