Chapter 9
Three months after I moved, Serena asked if I wanted to meet for coffee.
I arrived early. She walked in carrying a paper bag and set it on the table between us.
“I found this while unpacking,” she said.
Inside was a framed photograph from a picnic the year before. Marcus and Andre stood behind us, making faces at the camera. Serena and I were laughing so hard we could barely stay upright.
“I thought you might want it,” she said.
I looked at the woman I had been in that picture. She seemed sure everyone around her would always stay.
“You can keep it,” I said.
“I have another copy. I’m keeping mine too.”
I lifted the frame from the bag.
“Thank you.”
We talked for an hour. She had taken a new job. I told her about my apartment and a course I had started at a community arts center. We spoke of Andre only when Serena brought him up. She had heard he was moving to another city for work. She did not know more, and she did not want to.
“I’m sleeping better,” she said.
“I’m glad.”
“I was afraid I’d keep wondering what I missed. Now I know I trusted someone who lied to me.”
She wrapped her hands around her cup.
“I still wish you’d talked to me.”
“I wish I had too.”
She met my eyes. “I believe you.”
We did not promise to become friends again. When we left, she gave me a brief hug. It meant more because she had chosen it freely.
At home, I put the photograph in a drawer. I was not ready to display it, but I was glad she had given it to me.
My mother invited me and Imani over that Sunday. While we cooked, she asked about my counseling. I told her I was still going.
“Is it helping?” she asked.
“Yes. I’m learning to say when I’m unhappy before I let it turn into resentment.”
She handed me a plate to dry.
“I wish you had felt you could tell us earlier,” she said.
“I thought you would stop being proud of me.”
“I was hurt by what you did. I’ve also watched you face it.”
I dried the plate slowly. I had wanted her approval for so long that I often hid the very things I most needed help with.
“I’m trying to tell you the hard things sooner,” I said.
“I can listen.”
After dinner, Imani stayed to help our mother clean up. I took the trash outside. When I came back, they were arguing about the best way to store leftovers. I stood in the doorway and smiled. I belonged there, even when we disagreed.
The following week, Marcus sent me a message.
I found one of your books behind the radiator. Could I drop it at your place?
I stared at the screen before replying. He had never been to my new apartment. I gave him the address and said he could leave it with the building manager if he preferred.
I’ll bring it up, he wrote.
He arrived on Saturday afternoon. He looked well. That made me glad, though it surprised me how much it hurt to see.
The book was a collection of stories I had bought years before. Its cover was dusty.
“Thank you for finding it.”
“I was moving the sofa,” he said. “The lease ends next month.”
“Did you find a place?”
“Yes. Near Elijah.”
We stood in the hall for a moment.
“How are you?” he asked.
“Better than I was. How are you?”
“Better too.”
He looked past me at the lamp Imani had given me and the curtains my mother had helped hang.
“You made it nice,” he said.
“I like it here.”
“I’m glad.”
I touched the edge of the book. “I’m sorry for what I did to you, Marcus. I know I’ve said it before. I don’t expect anything from saying it now.”
“I know you don’t.”
He rested a hand on the doorframe, then took it away.
“For a long time, I wanted you to explain it in a way that would make sense to me,” he said. “I think I’ve stopped waiting for that.”
I nodded. “I couldn’t explain it that way to myself.”
“I hope you’re doing the things you told me you wanted to do.”
“I am. I started drawing again.”
He smiled, small and genuine. “You used to stay up until two because you couldn’t get a face right.”
“I still do.”
We both laughed.
When he left, I closed the door and held the book against my chest. His visit had brought sadness with it, but I felt steady. We had spoken kindly. He had seen my home, and I had seen that he could walk away safely from it.
May you like
I put the book on the shelf beside my blue bowl.
Then I went back to the drawing I had left on the table.
