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“What are you doing here anyway?” Jordan asks. “Other than eating my pie. I just saw you two days ago.”
Why is he there? It’s a great question. The best and most honest answer is also the saddest one: he just didn’t feel like going home. Either his place will be empty—Devon’s been making himself scarce recently—or Devon will be on the couch, feet on the coffee table, his filthy socks exposed, watching YouTube videos about squirrels racing through obstacle courses, which he can’t seem to get enough of. Neither of those scenarios is appealing right now with the ennui that’s settled on Kwame like lake fog.
“Can’t I come visit my favorite sister?”
“You can, you just usually don’t. Unless you’re promised a fish fry.”
“Any chance?”
“Boy, get outta here. Don’t I look busy enough to you? Greg took Tallulah to his mother’s for a couple nights for a post-Thanksgiving Thanksgiving.”
“And you got out of going?”
“Yep, but good Lord, the things I promised to do to my husband to get off the hook.”
“Nah, you can keep all that to yourself. I’m surprised you didn’t have Cherise and Sarah come through to do some masks and braid each other’s hair or whatever self-care you ladies get up to.”
Kwame had crushed hard on his older sister’s best friends, and by seventh grade had convinced himself that he would end up with one of them as soon as he got some muscles and a bank account. A similar childish delusion allowed him to believe that Jordan would eventually one day fall for Devon and they’d get married, turning his best friend into his actual brother.
What Kwame wouldn’t give some days to live back in that giddy, naive bubble.
“Love them, but forty-eight hours alone in my own home? That’s peak self-care, Bro. They don’t tell you when you have a husband and a kid you’re never going to be alone again. I guess for some people that’s the point, but you know me…”
The Walker siblings love their alone time. Case in point, they easily settle into ten more full minutes of silence, just sharing space.
Then Kwame has a question. “Hey, would you stay with Greg no matter what?”
“I guess it depends on the what. I mean, I’m ride or die, but yeah, I do have my limits.”
“If he cheated?”
“Heaven help that man if he cheated on me. It would be the last time he cheated on anyone since his junk would be gone.”
“Don’t say junk, Sis.”
“Whatever.”
“What about… murder?”
“What the what has gotten into you? This is a really twisted game of what-if. Do you know something I don’t?” Jordan laughs.
“No, no, I was just thinking about deal-breakers. I don’t know.”
“Well, yeah, I think it would be hard to stand by Greg if he murdered someone. But he is the father of my child, so I couldn’t just completely ghost him, probably.”
“What about Mom and Dad?”
“What about them?”
“Do you think they have secrets from each other?”
“Okay, seriously, what has gotten into you today?”
“I don’t know, you know me.”
“Like no one else does and don’t you forget it. But yeah, I’m sure Mom and Dad have their secrets. We all do. But probably just small stuff. You know Daddy’s always lying about his sweets and has the secret stash of candy in his car. But affairs? Or like, do we have a secret half-sibling out there? Nah, I don’t think so. They don’t have it in them. Remember when Mom accidentally took an extra Easter card from the Hallmark store and she drove back ten miles in rush hour and confessed? Now don’t ask me if I have secrets from Greg.”
“Do you?”
