“Right...” Cree nods, squeezing my hand. “I—I—did something really happen between you and Ace at his party in Malibu that summer?”
The wait feels long and drawn out because I’m in my head trying to digest all of what she’s shared so easily about herself and the Ace I didn’t know before.
“So I’m for sure not supposed to talk about this because his crazy ass lawyer made me sign an NDA when he found out I was going to give an exclusive to Gayle King, but you’re Javi’s sister so...” She sighs. “Between me and you—nope.”
She says it like we’re asking her to borrow her favorite lip gloss.
“Me and Javi were still in that weird talking phase, so I wanted to shoot my shot at Ace one last time, but your brother’s pretty persistent. He caught me sneaking out of Ace’s cabin that night in Malibu. It wasn’t shit in there, but his mom sleeping, so I left. How else was I supposed to get out of trouble when Javi kept questioning me about it?” She giggles. “I heard Ace was loaded as usual and climbing off the side of the boat that night anyway, but you know how rumors are—won’t know the truth unless you get it from the source. You should seriously ask him about that.”
CHAPTERTHIRTY
Lourdes
I don’t feel like I’m racing across town with a pot of gold in my purse. I feel like I’m carrying a bomb across the city in the backseat of my Uber with Cheyenne’s voice inside it.
The tears staining Cree’s face as my Uber pulled up to the curb outside of Prime Selection are a perfect representation of how my insides feel. I don’t think Cheyenne’s confession was as satisfying as we thought it would be. The only satisfying sound I remember accepting was Cree’s “hermana” when she told me she loved me after Cheyenne giggled her way off the phone. I believe her emotions behind the word now. We’re the sisters Ace wanted us to be, and she trusts me to take care of himfor real.
I’m not angry for no good reason anymore. I’m not happy that Cheyenne is a liar. I’m empty because I don’t know how to tell a man I love I don’t know why a girl ruined his life one summer night for her own selfish reasons.
This bomb makes my purse heavy.
I want to play the recording out loud for myself and my Uber driver, Ahmad, to dissect, but he’s not Chelsea. He’s a stranger that doesn’t know any of us, but he’s a black man and maybe he’s come across a Cheyenne who thinks he’s disposable in her privileged life. Maybe he’s got a Mama like me and Ace’s or friends like Chelsea and Bryson, who can’t see beyond their freshman year of college. Maybe he’s got a Coach Williams as a daddy who can’t give him the love he’s always crying for.
“Miss?” he asks, looking at me in the rearview mirror. “You going to Methodist?”
“Uh, yeah.” I nod, curling my fingers around my purse strap. “You can just pull right there.”
I gesture to the front entrance that me and Ace floated out of last night. It feels like it was years ago and I feel like a different person now. Instead of playing the recording for Ahmad, I grip my purse under my shoulder and climb out of his Kia.
The elevator ride to the tenth floor is blurry with random people in scrubs and long-faced families. I don’t remember where Mama’s room is, but my voice is too raw after two days of swallowing bombshells to stop and ask for directions.
My sandals slap against the floors while I pick up my pace, floating through a sea of doors that look the same. Room A103, A104, A105. None of them have familiar faces sitting inside when I peek through the windows. I roam through three different units on two different floors before I recognize Nurse Shelby’s box braids hanging down her back while she sits behind a computer in the nurse’s station in Unit 4B.
Suddenly, I remember that room B102 is Mama’s. It’s next to the bulletin board with all the pictures of the nurses stapled to it—all the “Shining Stars of Unit 4B.” It’s the only room in the back corner of the unit and the front of her door should’ve been empty but there’s a broad backed man standing there. When he turns his head, I get a glimpse of his caramel face. The familiarity makes me walk up to him.
“Coach Williams?” I ask.
He whips his head around like he’s caught, and I follow his line of vision through the window.
Ace is there with Mama, and Marcus is gone. His lips are moving, but Mama doesn’t open her eyes like he promised Marcus. No miracles happened while I argued with Cree at brunch. Somebody even folded the clothes he was sure Mama would put on and sat them on the edge of her bed. He leans over the side of it like he does at the house—resting his chin on his hand like Mama is awake to answer the questions he’s always throwing at her about me.
Coach Williams stares through the window again and right when he opens his mouth, Nurse Shelby’s country voice cuts him off.
“Hey... there you are.” She smiles, twisting toward me with another glint in her eyes. “I hope you don’t mind. I told Mr. Williams he could go on in. Somebody added him to the visitor list, but he says he’s been waiting for you.”
“But it’s three of us.”
“No worries at all, doll.”
She’s even nicer today than she was yesterday, but I think our family drama is Unit 4B’s entertainment this week. They got eye-candy, sports legends, jealous girlfriends, weird family dynamics, and two people playing tug of war with each other’s hearts.
“Thanks.”
She nods and twists back to the nurse’s station, where she sits behind a different computer. This one faces Mama’s room.
“It’s been a long time since I saw CeCe.” Coach Williams smiles. “I ain’t wanna just barge in there, you know?”
It’s the first time me and him are face to face after the mess bubbling between me, him, and Ace. It’s all unexpected—her name flowing out of his mouth again and him studying Mama and Ace through her room door’s tiny square window. Even his smile is unexpected. It’s full but sad. All the unexpectedness is on point for theTwilight Zonetype of day I’m having that started with my angry for no good reason feelings.
