Nerves set in, not because I’m afraid to tell her but because I’m afraid she’ll try to talk me out of it. Because shewilltry to talk me out of it. “I’m going to stay here for a little while longer.”
As expected, her face screws up like she’s looking at an idiot. “Why?”
“I need to take some time to get my finances together and find an apartment. Then I’ll come back.”
“You can do that here,” Keisha begins her counterargument, as expected. “Stay with me and Kelly.”
But I don’t want to be there.“This weekend has really fucked with my head, and I want to move forward on my terms. So, I need some time. You have to get that.”
Keisha’s pause tells me I’ve made a good point, but she doesn’t let that stop her from looking for the next hole in my argument. “How much time?”
“Only a couple of weeks. We’re going to look at places later today.”
“Who is ‘we’?” The question I’ve been dreading.
I wasn’t evencloseto getting away with it. “Me and my new friend.”
“And your new friend is . . . ?”
“. . . His name is Liem.”
“Ambrielle Nina Washington . . .” Keisha full-government-names me, exactly like my momma used to do. “What in the hell do you believe you are doing?” Now she’s channelinghermother, accent and all. I’m in trouble.
“You’re really going to middle-name me over—”
“You’re going to move in with aman?” Junie slides in again to pile on.
I shoot her a look that screamsWhose side are you on?“I’m not moving in with him. We’re staying in the same place. Temporarily.”
“He is a man!”
“Yes.”
“Do you know what men do?” Keisha asks.
“They murder people?” I guess the obvious.
“Theymurder people.”
I appreciate their concern, but they haven’t met Liem, and they don’t know the extent to which David has hurt me. I don’t want to rehash it right now. “He’s a sweetheart.”
“He. Is. A.Man.”
“A nice one. And a handsome one.”
“Some people said Ted Bundy was handsome too. You know, before hemurdered them,” Junie pops back in.
“Even if he isn’t a murderer, men are not easy to live with,” Keisha insists, clearly talking about her husband. “The amount of dirty socks around this house . . . Tell me how I have a pile of them on my bedroom floor when the hamper isright there.”
“Besides murder and inability to do laundry, is he aware of your situation?” Junie swirls her finger in the direction of my stomach. “Men do not understand the woes of women. Especially woes as bad as yours.”
I’ve gotten considerably better since my surgery. My friends are still traumatized by the rough time I had during college. “The pain is much more manageable now. He won’t even notice. Not that it matters, since I’m only staying a couple of weeks.”
“Still a bad idea,” Keisha says. “You should come home.”
As if on cue, the door opens behind me and the suspected future murderer walks in. For the first time since we met, he isn’t in a hoodie. The one he wore to the gym hangs in his hand, leaving him in only a fitted T-shirt clinging to his body. A body I had no idea looked likethat.
Already entranced by a face as killer as his, now that he’sglistening with sweat, veins pronounced from his exercise, I see I may have made a huge mistake.
