There’s a charging port on the arm of the loveseat, so after connecting her phone, she joins her sister on the floor. She takesa few sips from her drink, then grabs a wing, biscuit, and a small container of her favorite, the dirty rice.
Although words are left unspoken and they both want to say more, they eat in silence and enjoy their food. Sunjiya adds a splash of tequila to her Starry and her sister takes two shots straight from the bottle.
“You’re going to tell him everything?” her sister asks, finally breaking the silence.
“Yes. I’m marrying him. He needs to know everything.”
“And then what?”
“Then, we navigate the truth. He meets my twin sister and we try to have a normal relationship. I live my life with him and you live yours. Hell, maybe find a good man of your own. I don’t know, just normal, grown-up shit. No more childish games and switching. We’ll live and be happy for once,” Sunjiya says, hopeful.At least we’re talking and she’s listening.
“It’s a lot. I’m just trying to figure out where this all came from.”
“Hell, from being locked up by Marcelin for almost three years, breaking free, and finding real love. That’ll make anybody want change.”
“But I’m the same. I loved switching. The fun, the little fear and rush of not getting caught. All of it. You’re not going to miss that?’
“No! And we haven’t done it for three years. You’ve been fine without us doing it.”
“Yeah but I knew once you got away from Marcelin we would be back to normal.”
Sunjiya shrugs then glares at her sister.What is she not getting?
“This shit is different, way different, Twin, and I don’t like it,” her sister says.
“But I wish you would,” Sunjiya says. “I really do.”
“Hand me the blunt,” is all she says, so Sunjiya pushes the ashtray over.
The conversation becomes reminiscent of their convo in Antigua, very circular. The same things are said over and over and nothing is resolved. Sunjiya’s hopefulness starts to wane as it becomes more apparent that her sister doesn’t want their dynamic to change. It’s disheartening and very disappointing.
The mini torch isn’t working so Sunjiya’s sister eases off the floor and goes to search for another lighter. Sunjiya gets up to check her phone. To her surprise and dismay, the screen is still black and it will not power on. Her phone is still dead and it never takes this long to charge.
“What the hell?” she utters in frustration. Time has flown by and it’s already after five. Axton’s tests today were supposed to be done by three, which means Akeem has probably been trying to reach her. “Fuck!”
“What’s wrong?”
“Either my phone is tripping or my charger isn’t working. Do you have another cord?” Sunjiya asks. Her sister steps toward the recliner, lifts the armrest cover, and pulls out a cord. She tosses it to Sunjiya. “Thanks, hopefully this works. If not, I’m going to have to go to the store.”
“It’s probably just the cord.”
“I hope so. I don’t need my phone crashing right now.” Sunjiya sighs. Quickly, she swaps out the cords and plugs her phone in.
“Staring at it ain’t gon’ make it charge quicker. Here, hit this again,” her sister says while holding the blunt out.
“I’m good,” Sunjiya says dismissively. Her non-charging phone has all of her attention. “What’s wrong?” she mumbles as she presses the side button. “I need to go to the store. Is there one close?”
“Apple?” her sister confirms and Sunjiya nods. “Oh, then no. The closest Apple store is Perimeter in Atlanta, and with five o’clock traffic, I don’t know if you’ll make it before it closes. You can use my phone until tomorrow.”
“Nah. I need my phone,” Sunjiya insists, then stands. She unplugs her phone and gathers it and the cord.
Not only does Sunjiya need to speak with Akeem; she also wants to change her flight. She came, said what she had to say, and clearly realized her sister’s position wasn’t changing. No need to stay here till Sunday. Sunjiya’s heart and home is in Austin with Akeem and she needs to get back to prepare to tell him the truth.
“You’ve been drinking and smoking,” her sister reminds her.
“But I’m good. I barely put any tequila in my cup and it’s still full. I can drive.”
Hurriedly, Sunjiya leaves the living room. She’s heading to the stairs when the doorbell chimes. She ignores it, but as she ascends the steps, the chime sounds back to back, almost excessively.
