The words came out casually, although I lamented over my decision for days. I weighed the pros and cons and thought about all the “what ifs” while doing my best not to pace around our living room just in case AJ was watching me through the cameras he had installed in our apartment after I left to go to Trader Joe’s one day without telling him.
“Jodie booked me a flight back home.”
“To Houston?” she asks.
I nod.
“I thought we talked about going anywhere but there.”
“We did, but…”
“But what?”
It was easy to fantasize about starting over in Colorado, but once the fog lifted from my brain and reality slapped me in my face, I knew I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t go. How dare I muster up excitement to go to another place where I’ll still have nothing?
Somebody shuffles past her cubicle.
“Sonia, wait! I’m coming with you to the deli,” another person squeals, power-walking behind them.
I curl my fingers into the palm of my hand and swallow the words as they barrel up my throat.
“He knows everything abouthome, Lovie,” Yesenia hisses. “Be for real right now. That’s the first place he’ll think of when he realizes what you’ve done. He’ll get his ass on the first thing smoking and come to Houston to drag you back to hell.”
“I know, but my spirit says to go home?—”
“And sometimes that shit can be wrong too. Sometimes we just need to use our brains.”
I huff, glancing at my lap. “Didn’t you just wax poetic about our brains being so complex?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t say to stop using it.”
“You don’t understand.”
“That’s the thing—Ido.”
“Moving to another borough isn’t the same as moving to another state. You still have family here. I don’t have anybody in Colorado. I need to go home. I need…I need to…”
I need to listen to Mama because she’s here, lurking in the hallway outside of Yesenia’s cubicle just like she’s been lurking in my ear ever since I agreed to go to Colorado. Aunt Faye always told me if I listened close enough I could hear her in everything and everyone around me, but I can’t tell Yesenia I made such a hasty decision all because Mama’s ghost talks to me through people sometimes. If I did, she’dreallythink I’m some loony bitch.
“I just need a foundation, and I have that at home.” I look up and find Yesenia staring at me with her lips tucked under her teeth.
She nods with a loud sigh. “I get it. I just want you to be?—”
“Safe. I know.”
She glances at my Chanel Flap, running her fingers over the gold hardware. I lean over in my chair to hide the gold double Cs as another one of her co-workers walks past her cubicle. As soon as they’re out of earshot, I reach out and fling the purse open, digging the AirTag and my ID out of its hidden pocket.
“Toss this.” I push the AirTag toward her that AJ snuck into any purse I carried longer than a week. “And pawn the purse like I told you. It’s worth at least a few months of daycare. If I had money?—”
“I wouldn’t take it.” She grabs the AirTag, studies its shiny body, then sticks it back into the purse. “I hope when he checks the last known location on this thing, he shits himself just a little.”
We raise our eyebrows at each other, then snicker at our last hurrah.
“And I’ll keep the phone on for the next month in case you…” she mutters.
“Want to call and listen to you bitch about Sarah…or to finish convincing you it’s genetically impossible for me to wear sneakers for too many days in a row because of my insanely high arches… or play who’s had the worst stint in therapy?”
We snort out low giggles that make a sharp pain shoot through my side.
