“You cannot. When is your eye surgery scheduled?”
Rita waved her hand dismissively. “It was supposed to be next month but I’m up here with you so it’ll wait. My grandbaby’s freedom is more important than my eyeballs.”
“Rita, your eyeballs are literally how you see the world.”
“I’ve been navigating this world half blind for years, baby. The Lord and my cane have gotten me this far. My eyes can wait. Now, I’m going to pray for Mehar and Aziza tonight. That baby is a fighter and she gets it from both sides. She’ll be home before you know it.”
I set the phone down and looked at Sarai sleeping in the bassinet beside me. Two Banks babies born within days of each other. One in Hartford with an ankle monitor for a mother and one in Baltimore in a NICU. Our family had a flair for dramatic entrances.
Xander showed up around four. He knocked twice and let himself in because at this point he’d been to the apartment enough times that formality felt ridiculous. He had his briefcase in one hand and a bag of pastries from the bakery down the street in the other because apparently he’d noticed that I lived off hospital food and Chick-fil-A and decided to intervene.
“Got an update from the court,” he said, setting the pastries on the counter and pulling a folder from his briefcase. “The prosecutor is reviewing the new evidence your father provided. The metadata from Vivica’s computer, the financial records, all of it. We have an indictment hearing in two weeks.”
“What does that mean for me?”
“It means a grand jury is going to look at everything the prosecution has and decide whether there’s enough to move forward with the murder charge. Given the strength of our evidence and the weakness of theirs, I think there’s a real chance they don’t indict.”
“You think or you know?”
“I think. But my think is usually pretty reliable.” He gave me a look that was half confidence and half reassurance and I filed it away in the folder in my brain labeled things about Xander I need to stop collecting.
“How was the wedding?” I asked, because apparently I was incapable of keeping conversations with this man strictly professional.
He made a face. The kind of face you make when someone asks about something you’d rather forget. “You know how those things go. It started late. By the time the ceremony actually happened I was over it. Open bar was the only thing that saved the night and even that was questionable.”
“And your girlfriend? Did she have fun at least?”
“Elise.” He said her name the way you say the name of a restaurant you used to like but don’t go to anymore.
“Yeah she sure did havefun.”
“How long have you been together?”
“We’ve been together about six months.”
That was it. Six months and a first name delivered with the enthusiasm of someone reading ingredients off the back of a cereal box. No “she’s great” or “you’d love her.” Just Elise, six months, and a tone that told me everything his words didn’t.
“I’m sorry, I’m asking too many questions.”
“Nah, you’re good. It’s just…” He paused and rubbed the back of his neck. “The night of the wedding she got really drunk. Like embarrassingly drunk. There’s a video online and it’s blowing back on me a little bit. But it’s whatever.” He closed the folder and pivoted like a man who’d said more than he planned to. “Anyway. Sarai is beautiful. She looks just like you.”
That landed on me softer than it should have and I made myself look at the folder on the counter instead of at his face.
“Thanks. She’s a good baby. Barely cries.”
“She gets that from her mama.”
“Boy, I cry all the time.”
He laughed and it was warm and easy and I needed to stop cataloging things about his laugh. He packed up his briefcaseand headed for the door. Rita intercepted him in the hallway with her arms open.
“Come here and give me a hug, son. You’re doing the Lord’s work for my grandbaby.”
“Yes ma’am.” He leaned down and wrapped his arms around her and Rita hugged him back and over his shoulder, with his back fully turned to me, Rita mimed grabbing his butt with both hands, squeezing the air inches from his pants with an expression of pure mischief on her face.
I almost choked. I pressed my hand over my mouth and bit down on my lip so hard because if I laughed out loud Xander would turn around and see Rita’s hands hovering over his ass.
They broke apart and Xander looked at me with my face all twisted up trying not to explode.
