The sun has settled into the sky, and Aunt Liz orders pizza, and we feast because what we ate for brunch has worn off. I keep checking my phone to see if my mom or Imani has sent a text. Nothing.
Just as the theme song comes on for the next episode, my phone rings. I thought I had it on silent, but it’s loud, and now everyone has turned to me like we’re in a movie theater and I’m being a nuisance. It’s Tye. I stand up and answer the phone, walking into Aunt Liz’s bedroom.
I close the door. “Hello?”
“Hey. Want to join us for dessert?” Tye says. I love that we are familiar enough with each other that when he calls, he just jumps into the conversation.
“Like, right now?”
“Yeah. We just finished up with Inspire Harlem, and we’re going to Sugar Hill Creamery. You should come.”
I really want to say yes, but I can’t just leave. “Thanks for inviting me, but it’s kind of a family night,” I tell him. Then, realizing who the we is that he’s talking about, I ask, “Is Imani going with you?”
“Yeah. It was her idea.”
“Oh.” And I don’t even need to ask who else is going. I know Asher is with her, and Sadie and Lynn are there and Toya with her beautiful hair.
“Next time,” Tye says. “And it’ll just be me and you.”
“Okay.”
“It’s a date,” he says.
I smile. “See you soon.”
I stand in Aunt Liz’s room for a moment. I need to swallow the tears that are trying to rise. I don’t know why I am so emotional. Maybe it’s because there used to be a time when Imani would have rushed home after an event to be with us, when she would have sent me a text to ask me to save her something to eat because she knows Aunt Liz goes all out for our gatherings. And while it feels good that I am on Tye’s mind, that he wants to spend time with me, I wonder why Imani didn’t invite me. She always invited me out when it was just her, Sadie, and Lynn. But now that Toya is around, I feel like I’m losing my cousin-sister-friend.
When I get back into the living room, I sit back down in my spot, at the right end of the sofa. I grab a throw pillow, hug it to my body.
Aunt Ebony turns to me and whispers, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I say. “Everything’s fine.”
“You sure?”
“I’m sure,” I tell her. Even though I’m not sure about anything.
11
I heard Imani come in late last night. Like, later than Aunt Ebony allows, and I know there’s no ice cream shop that stays open that late, so I wonder where she was. Probably with Asher. His mom doesn’t have strict rules about curfew or friends coming over. He can come and go as he pleases with whoever he pleases. Imani is still sleeping. Her TV is on because she can’t sleep without noise. I don’t know how she does that. I need quiet when I sleep. I get up and get dressed, text Tye to see what he’s up to today, and go downstairs. By the time I get to the kitchen, he has responded: seeing you I hope.
My smile overwhelms my face.
Uncle Randy comes in to refill his coffee. “Well, someone’s happy this morning.”
I put my phone in my pocket. “Good morning, Uncle Randy.”
“You, ah, you got a minute?” he whispers.
I lower my voice too, even though I don’t know why we’re talking like this. “Yes.”
“Okay, so your aunt went on a walk with Liz, so that’s why I wanted to talk to you now while she’s gone. Is Imani up yet?”
“She’s still asleep.”
“Okay, so one of us will have to fill her in,” Uncle Randy says. He is still whispering and looking around the kitchen like at any minute he will get caught. “So, ah, your aunt’s birthday is coming up—well, it’s at the end of August, so we have a little bit of time—”
“It’s just the first week of July. We have plenty of time,” I tell him. He doesn’t look too convinced, and then I remember that Uncle Randy is a pre-preplanner. He is the most organized person I know. I am surprised he doesn’t already have it all worked out. I cut up an apple, eat a slice, and savor it. Aunt Ebony always buys Pink Lady apples, our favorite because of the sweetness.
Uncle Randy says, “I want to do something really special for her, but, well, after being with her for so long I think I’ve kind of run out of things to do.” He rubs his head. “Now, you know she hates surprises, so that’s out, and she’s not too flashy, so nothing over the top.”
“Right,” I say. I take out my phone, open my Notes app, and make a list as we come up with ideas. We start with gifts.
“What about a weekend away? You two could go to the Poconos. She’d like that,” I say.
“Yeah, I was thinking Cape Cod, actually. Or maybe a spa day,” Uncle Randy says. “But she always gets her nails done anyway, so is that special enough?”
“Well, it’s special if she doesn’t have to pay for it.” I laugh. “And you could add some treatments to it—a massage or a pedicure. That might be nice.”
Uncle Randy seems to like but not love this idea.
I type it into my notes anyway, and we think up a few more: brunch at Central Park’s Boathouse restaurant, good seats to a Broadway play. “What about a candlelit dinner on Aunt Liz’s rooftop? Just family and close friends?” I ask.
“Perfect. Yes, I’ll ask Liz.”
Imani yawns her way into the kitchen. “’Morning,” she says.
“It’s twelve thirty,” Uncle Randy says. “Good afternoon.” He kisses her on her forehead.
Imani squints at the clock. “I was out late last night with Inspire Harlem.”
Eating ice cream, I think.
Not inviting me, I think.
“What are you two doing?” she asks.
Uncle Randy starts whispering again. I laugh a little and remind him that Aunt Ebony is not here, so he doesn’t have to talk low. “We’re planning something nice for your mom’s birthday,” Uncle Randy says.
I hold my phone up and show her the list.
“You two are planning Mom’s birthday?”
“Well, we’re just coming up with ideas right now,” Uncle Randy says.
Imani opens the fridge, takes out the pineapple juice, and pours a glass. “Wow, you’re just planning it all without me?”
“You were sleeping, Imani. Nala is just helping me think up ideas.”
I set my phone down, sit at the table in the corner nook of the kitchen. “I was going to fill you in.”
“Filling me in means you were going to already have a plan and just share that plan with me but not ask me to help come up with the plan.”
“Well, it’s not my fault you were out all night and couldn’t wake up this morning,” I say.
“Nala, I always help my dad organize something for my mom’s birthday.” Then she turns to Uncle Randy and asks, “Why would this year be any different?”
I eat the rest of my apple and put my plate in the dishwasher. I don’t have time for Imani’s attitude. “We literally just started talking about it.” I pull up Imani’s number on my phone and text her the list of notes. “There, you have the ideas now. You can take it from here.” And then I add, “You are so sensitive. Always thinking someone is trying to leave you out. This isn’t sixth grade.” I try to say it with a smile, but I think it comes out as harsh as I actually feel it.