“I want to see you.” Why try to lie? She can see through me anyway. “Please.”
She chews on her words, undoubtedly debating between which excuse is most defensible. Luckily, she doesn’t find one. “Okay, fine. I’ll come.”
Excitement floods through me, as visceral as if she had hugged me. “Really?”
“But only if you get me coach on the cheapest flight.”
“That’s like a hundred bucks.”
“More like two. And you’re lucky I’m not making you split it with me.”
It doesn’t matter. I haven’t felt this happy since the day we weretogether in the park. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Silence lingers between us for a second. I can barely grasp the possibilities of what might happen when she’s here. When we’re together again for the first time since we . . . My excitement turns to nervousness.
Still, I’m happy. “I can’t wait to see you.”
Twenty-four
Bri
We’ve only been apart for two weeks, but it feels like months. Change is hard, but California is my home.Thisis the place that should feel familiar, and yet it feels like I lefthome to come back here. I can’t remember it being this difficult to exist in LA.
Still no job, still no leads. And my period came. When it rains, it pours.
It hit me hard again, likely because of all the walking I’ve been doing through downtown Los Angeles, searching fornow hiringsigns while waiting for Keisha to get off work. Feeling like I had pulled every muscle in my pelvic region gave me a glimpse of how bad it used to be, and a reminder that my body puts limits on the jobs I can take.
Crossing off full-time positions that require consecutive days of physical labor narrows my job search even more. This stupid disease, even at its most controlled, will never let me live my life outside of its painful shadow.
The cramps weren’t nearly as bad as the disappointment I feel in myself right now.How am I still backsliding?I still need help.Why can I not feel okay like I did in Brooklyn?Because Liem isn’t here.
I don’t want Liem’s financial support again—I would refuse it if he ever offered—but his emotional support? I fear being next to him may beeverythingI need.
After he sent me his floor plan, I’ve been full of ideas I can’t wait to get together for him. Even if I gave him a pink polka dot theme, he would pretend to love it. He wants to see me as much as I want to see him.
Junie hired me to bring her lunch at her office again. She set me as her preferred shopper in her app and tips me the maximum fifty percent every time, even though she almost always orders enough food to feed us both. I love her, truly.
Junie works in a high-rise in DTLA, a long but doable bike ride from Keisha’s office and the courthouse. With most of my dog walks in Keisha’s neighborhood, I can make it without a car for a while. I’ll save money quicker this way anyway.
Junie’s assistant acknowledges my presence with a nod, letting me go back to Junie’s office without having to partake in uncomfortable small talk.
Inside, she scowls at her monitor until I open the door, then her face lights up. I’m not sure if her excitement is for me or the pokebowls in my hand.
“Hi, baby!” she greets me. “Thank you for bringing my food.”
I plop myself into a chair. “I would do it without you paying me, you know.”
“Blah, blah. Tell me what’s up. Keke says you’re going to see your man in Seattle.”
Always telling my business.“Yes. He hired me to do something for him.”
“To fuck him?”
That’s technically a profession.One I’m considering if no other jobs pan out. “To decorate his new apartment.”
“Sure.” Everyone wants me to get laid. “You rearrange his furniture and then he rearranges your guts. Fair trade.”
