The smell of coffee and hazelnut wafted to my nose, while the steam coming off the mug lulled me into a trance. I held my hands out. “I hope that’s for me.”
She handed Kay one of the cups. “No, it’s not.”
Frowning, I asked, “Are you serious?”
Brianna took a sip from the mug she had in her hand. “As a heart attack.” She pulled a bottle of water from the pocket of her robe and dropped it on my lap. “This is for you.”
I muttered a curse as I untwisted the cap on the bottle. “I can’t stand you right now.”
“I don’t care.” Bri batted her eyelashes at me. “I’ll have another lemon drop, please,” she mocked with an exaggerated slur.
Gaping at her, I asked, “Is that how I sounded?”
“Don’t worry, I recorded you,” Bri assured.
Giggling, Kay set her mug down on the rug. “It’s funny, too.” Apparently, the video of my drunken stupor propelled her to book a last-minute ticket on the first flight this morning. “Anyway, what the hell is going on here, Pookie?”
She was the only person in the world that called me that. I wasn’t sure why or even when it started, but it annoyed the hell out of me because it reminded me of Chris Rock in the movieNew Jack City.
“I’ve never seen you like this before,” Kay continued. “By noon, you usually have the first several items on your to-do list checked off.”
“I do have something checked off,” I lied.
She folded her arms over her chest. “Like what?”
“I woke up.”I’m full of shit. “And I drank water.”
Brianna snorted. “I’m glad you’re here, Sissy.” She leaned against the desk. “I needed reinforcements.”
“You make me sick.” I glared at my bestie. “I can’t believe you recorded me.”
“Sure did,” Bri replied. “You should’ve seen Ma’s face.”
“You told Mama G?” I yelled. “Oh God.”
My behavior was embarrassing enough without Bri sharing it with the woman who’d become a second mother to me. When were in college, Mama G checked in on me more than my parents did, and almost as much as Grandma. She’d sent us care packages of Detroit-made treats monthly. Better Made potato chips, original and red hot. Faygo Red Pop for Bri and Rock & Rye for me. A case of Vernors soda, which was a staple in most Detroit households and especially good to drink when sick. Kar’s original Sweet ’N Salty trail mix. Several bags of Nick’s Hot Sauce Corn Chips. Germack pistachios. Sanders chocolate candy. Everything that we could think of that reminded us of the D.
“She’s going to call you,” Bri added. “She’s very concerned. So am I.”
“Me, too,” Kay chimed in. “You’ve been through so much. We want to support you.”
The best part of being back home was getting to spend time with lifelong friends. Friends that had seen me at my best and my worst yet still loved me. Kay was engaged to her first love, Amir. She’d been in Milwaukee with his family, celebrating his great aunt’s eightieth birthday. Now, she was here making sure I was good.
I glanced at my friends, so accomplished in their careers. While Bri’s day job as a data manager for the local utilities company earned her a great living, it was her side hustle as a professional gamer that had increased her net worth. And Kay was a talented prosthodontist and had recently opened a private practice with her soon-to-be husband. I was happy for them. Really. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel like a complete failure around them sometimes. Especially now that I was unemployed again.
“You both have already supported me.” I blew out a heavy sigh. “I had a moment last night. No more wallowing. No more lemon drops.”
“It’s okay”—Kay waved a dismissive hand—“I needed an excuse to come home early. I have so much to do before the wedding. The last thing I want to do is listen to Amir’s mother drone on and on about their important family history. And you know they can’t cook, so we had dinner at this hoity-toity restaurant. I felt bad for his auntie because all she wanted was a Big Mac.” She sniffed her shirt. “Shit, I still smell like mothballs.”
Bri winced. “I didn’t want to tell you.”
Kay tossed one of my bras at her sister. “Ugh.” She glanced at me. “Do you smell it?”
I shrugged. “A little bit.”
“A little?” Bri exclaimed. “She’s being nice, Kay. It smells like you bathed in them joints.”
Muttering a string of curses, Kay pulled her Howard Bison hoodie off and tossed it in the hamper. “Wash that when you wash your clothes, ma’am.” She sighed. “Anyway, what is going on with you?”
