“Some nonsense,” I tease.
She flips me off and the action seems to switch the light bulb on in her head. “Oh! Back to your raggedy sister. Sincey’allgot us tangled up with her conniving husband’s friends for life, I’m not gonna stop coming around or not go somewhere just because she’s there. But, she better not even think about hitting me up one-on-one. I don’t wanna talk to her, see her, kick it with her, skate with her. Nothing.” She folds her arms across her chest and turns up her nose.
“You get on my nerves.” Janelle laughs.
We joke more about the entire situation and move on to grilling Janelle about how things are going with Rome, but in the back of mymind I keep thinking about how my relationship with Amerie will be going forward.
Evie may be ready to give up on her, but I can’t do that. We’ve been friends for seventeen years. She’s seen me at my worst and never gave up on me. I have to believe that person is still there.
Thinking about it is giving me a headache, so I tune back in to Janelle and Evie, sighing with relief when Janelle runs off to use my shower and Evie orders snacks and drinks for everyone.
I text Omari for a rain check on my dick appointment. Dicks come and go, but your girls are forever.
Hours after the girls and I have downed multiple bottles of wine, gorged ourselves on junk food, watched our favorite episodes ofGrey’s Anatomy, and raided my perfume collection to “help” me with my video edits, they’re fast asleep in my bed.
Evie’s soft snores match the pace of my heartbeat, and I count each one while staring at my ceiling. Sleep won’t come for me, not when the words of Micah’s text flash across my eyelids every time I close them.
I do have to face him eventually. Not for him, and definitely not for me. For Tanya.
Sighing, I roll over and grab my phone from the nightstand, shooting off a response before I change my mind.
Me: I’m okay, thanks. We should probably get started on Tanya’s neverending list
Chapter Five
Micah
TANYA’S STREET IS DISTURBINGLY QUIET WHENIPULLonto it. I used to say that Tanya picked her house because the neighborhood was as loud as she was. Now, there’s nothing. Not a single neighbor outside mowing their lawn or smoking. No kids riding their bikes up and down the hill. No music drifting out of various windows. It’s like she took all the energy of this place with her.
I pull into her driveway, leaving enough space for Dani to park beside me when she gets here. After she finally texted me back the other day, we made a plan to start cleaning out Tanya’s house.
She claims she doesn’t have a problem with me, but we both know that’s a lie. When we’re in group settings, she can pretend with the best of them, most of the time opting to pretend I’m not there at all. It’s the rare moment we’re alone that she can’t get away from me fast enough.
Moments later, her sleek black car pulls up.
When she steps out of the car, her greeting is short—not rude per se, but clipped. She rubs her palms against her jeans threetimes in quick succession and her bottom lip holds a permanent position between her teeth. Facing this house and its memories isn’t going to be easy for either of us.
We both stop in our tracks the moment we step inside. Tanya never let anything be out of place when she was alive, so it’s not like I was expecting the place to be in ruins, but this is like stepping into a time capsule.
Absolutely nothing has changed since the last time I was here. Her keys are still hanging on the rack by the door. The Moroccan rug she had in the entryway is still rolled up and sitting in the corner because after insisting on having it, she decided she didn’t like how it looked on her floor.
I feel like I’m trespassing. Like I’ve disturbed the peace of a sacred shrine. My feet itch to run out of here. The sensation rises up my leg, making it impossible to stand still.
The door to the den is open and I can make out the corner of one of her many paintings. A sad smile creeps across my face, as I know I’ll find all of her favorite artwork in there, but that she won’t be there to talk about them with me for the hundredth time.
A loud gasp from Dani shakes my thought away. She’s staring at the den as well.
Is it because she knows the piece that started us on this path is in there?
Does she think about that day as much as I do?
“Are you okay?” I ask. I shouldn’t have asked. I can see the moment her walls go up, locking me on the other side.
“I’m fine,” she mutters as she heads upstairs.
“Whoever’s up there, please give me strength,” I whisper as she disappears from my line of sight.
The portrait I made for Tanya follows me around the den as I go through boxes and make note of things I think she would want auctioned off, donated, or thrown out.
