Saleem paused what he was doing. “What’s the matter?”
“I never really got a chance to tell Najee how sorry I was for that night. Or anything really. I know you probably talk to him more than anyone, so I wanted to know if you could give him my number the next time he calls.”
She had to blurt everything out at once so she wouldn’t clam up. Even through her rushed tone, Saleem heard her. He also heard everything she wasn’t saying. He felt it through the phone. Before Saleem could respond, she spoke again.
“If you don’t want to, it’s fine. I understand. He probably doesn’t want to talk to me, and I get that. I just...”
“Yo, Ori. You overthinking. You don’t gotta explain yourself to me. It was a lot. But I know G. He a real nigga, and I know he still got love for you no matter what.”
She exhaled a shaky breath.
“Okay,” she whispered. His words made her feel much more optimistic. “If you could, give him my number. Tell him if he ever wants to talk, I’m here.”
Saleem let out a low breath and lightly smiled. “I got you. I know he’ll be happy you wanted him to reach out.”
“Really?” she asked, voice rising an octave.
“Yeah. I don’t know why you sound so surprised. You get them letters he sent you?” Saleem asked.
Orielle wanted to lie, but that wasn’t in her character. “Mhmm. Yeah, I still have them.”
Saleem wanted to ask why she had only written him back once, but that wasn’t his business. Najee had only brought it up to him once and never spoke about it again.
“A’ight. Well, when I hear from him, I’ll tell him to call you. I’m about to load this truck up.”
Orielle sighed. “Okay. Thank you. I’ma make my way up to the juicery this week to see you.”
“Yeah. Be sure you do that. I need to lay eyes on you. And not at me and Amira’s wedding celebration.”
She’d gotten the invitation in the mail and didn’t hesitate to RSVP.
“Okay. I can do that,” she let him know.
“Good. Got me out here waiting for you to respond to me like I’m one of your fans,” Saleem joked, making Orielle laugh.
“Oh, whatever. You know I love you, cousin.”
“I love you, too, Ori. Be safe, a’ight?”
“You too. See you later.”
When she hung up, the oversized shirt she wore was damp and clinging to her skin. A sure sign that her nerves had almost gotten the best of her during their call. Standing from her couch, Orielle stepped into her bedroom, stripped from her shirt, and replaced it with a tank top. The weight and heaviness she once felt no longer existed. The only thing that replaced it was anxiousness.
She didn’t know how frequently Najee was allowed to use the phone, but she hoped Saleem’s message didn’t take too long to get relayed. Until then, she was about to take the best nap of her life and restart her day at the studio. All those lyrics she wrote this morning had to get put to use somehow.
2
“I DON’T EVEN REGRET WHAT I DID.”
“All I’m saying is, when you got a good one... you hold on to them,” Chuck rambled.
Najee had been listening to the old head talk for the past ten minutes. That’s all he seemed to do. Some days, it was bullshit, but today, Najee’s ears were wide open.
“Yeah? And if they not trying to be held onto, then what?”
“Well, then, shit.” Chuck chuckled before coughing roughly.
All those years of smoking were catching up to him. Between the tobacco, the unpleasant smell of body odor, and the pissy floors, it was inevitable not to be interrupted while conversing. The lackluster cleaning didn’t aid the pungent smell trapped in the walls either. Chuck was used to it, though. The repeat offenders always were.
