“Of course,” she says. “You’re welcome.”
We walk on Lenox Avenue, heading to Aunt Ebony’s. Mom is still reminiscing and talking about how she can’t believe I am graduating soon. We swap our remember whens back and forth, reminding each other of how things used to be. Then Mom says, “And remember how much you loved roller skating?”
“I still do,” I tell her. And then I get an idea. “We should go—me, you, Imani, and Aunt Ebony, like old times.”
“Oh, that would be so fun,” Mom says. “Or should I say, that would be so funny—I haven’t skated in years. I’m too old to move like I used to. But I’ll go. See what I’m working with.”
“Thursday night is family night. Free admission, half off skate rentals.” I say this so she knows it’s affordable, so she doesn’t worry about having the money to go.
Mom doesn’t hesitate to ask Aunt Ebony. She sends her a text, and my phone vibrates because she included me on the thread too, and I see Imani’s name. My phone buzzes again. Imani is the first to reply, saying, Yes, I’m in. And then Aunt Ebony says, Can’t wait. This will be so fun.
“Well, looks like it’s a date,” Mom says. “This Thursday.” Mom puts her phone back in her purse, and she is smiling so hard, so real. I haven’t seen her like this in a long, long while.
31
The next morning, I leave the house early so I can make sure I am at the photo shop right when it opens. Harlem is quiet today and it’s bright, but it’s not hot yet. Grandma always says it’s best to run errands before noon to avoid the afternoon heat. Grandma is never wrong.
I am the second customer in the store. I get in line at the counter and pull out my phone so I can give my order number. The man remembers me and smiles. “You came back to see us.” He says “us” even though every time I’ve been here, he is the only one working. He gives me two envelopes because there are different sizes, and I can’t wait to see them. I open the first envelope, pulling the glued-down flap. I open it and step aside to look through the photographs. They are perfect, and I feel like I am holding all the people I love and care about in the palm of my hand.
Once I am home, I take over the dining room table and lay out all the photos and start framing them. Seeing summer laid out before me I write a simple note to each person I want to give a photo to. I don’t know when I’ll give them all out, but it’s nice to have these gifts ready, these moments of summer forever frozen in time. Without even intending to, I take the photo of me and Tye, put it in one of the gift bags left over from Aunt Ebony’s party, and head out the door.
I walk to Tye’s place, and once I get there, I am stuck outside like the cement is quicksand. People keep passing me going in and out of the gate. A man sees me and says, “Left your key card? Need me to buzz you in?” I stutter out no thank you and keep standing there. I give myself a pep talk. The last time I saw Tye, he said I didn’t have to miss him; he basically invited me to make the first move. Come on, Nala. Just push the buzzer and see if he’s home. I think maybe I should text first. Let him know I am standing out front. I take a few steps to my right and get out of the way. I grab my phone, and just as I am about to text Tye, I hear his voice behind me. “Nala?” I turn around. He has his key card in his hand, holds it up to the sensor, and holds the gate open for me. “What are you doing here?” he asks.
“I—I came to see you.”
We walk over to the courtyard instead of going inside his building. At least there’s shade to sit in. I sit on one of the benches. Tye doesn’t wait for me to begin. “What’s up?” he says.
“I’m really sorry, Tye.”
He sits down next to me.
“I know I’ve said this already, but really, I’m sorry. And I do miss you. I just needed a moment. I needed to figure things out. I didn’t know myself anymore, and, well, I’m still figuring things out, but I know that doesn’t mean that we still can’t be in each other’s lives . . . I mean, if you still want me in your life.”
He doesn’t say anything right away, and I start wondering if maybe I’ve said too much. Or maybe I haven’t said enough.
“I still don’t know why you did all of this. I mean, why did you think you needed to make up all that stuff?”
“You seemed so perfect. The vibrant, volunteering vegetarian who knows exactly what he wants to do in college, after college. I just didn’t think you’d like a girl like me. I mean, do you know how much I love bacon?”
Tye laughs a gut-wrenching laugh, and it feels so good to be with him and his smile. “I love bacon too,” he says. “It’s what I miss the most.” Then, Tye gets serious and says, “Actually, I need to apologize to you.”
“For what?”
“For not putting as much attention into you as I did into what you were doing. You’re a person, and who you are is just as important. I care about you, not just what you do,” Tye says. “Nala, spending time with you is what made this summer so special. Talking with you and getting to know you as a person was way more interesting than talking about the photo project.”
When he brings up the photo project, I go into my bag and pull out the framed picture. “So, about that,” I say. “This is actually why I came over. I wanted to give something to you.” I hand the photo to Tye. “I figured out what to do with all those frames.”
He smiles that gorgeous smile and says, “Thank you.” He just keeps staring at it, and then looks back at me. “I gotta step my gift-giving up. I’m sorry for giving you things I thought you needed to have, instead of things you wanted.”
“Apology accepted. I will put both to use, though. I promise,” I say.
Tye puts the photo back in the gift bag. “So, what’s the occasion?”
“The occasion?”
“For the gift.”
“Because this summer something special happened. Even if it was a bit muddled. And I don’t want us to forget it.”
Tye looks at the photo again, then says, “This has been the best summer ever. I can’t believe it’s over next week.”
“Me too,” I say. I don’t know how being back in school will change my relationship with Tye. I know we will both be occupied with senior-everything. We don’t even go to the same high school, so it’s not like we’ll conveniently see each other every day. If we’re going to stay in each other’s lives, it will have to be on purpose, intentional.
Tye asks, “So, what does this mean—you came over to give me this photo. Is that all?”
“I don’t want that to be all,” I say. “I kind of feel like we need to start over,” I tell him. “I mean, I guess what I’m saying is, I want to start over.”
“Yeah, me too.”
We sit for a while, and now more people are coming out to sit and play in the courtyard. A siren wails in the background, and three children are splashing in the water fountain giggling and chasing one another. There’s a woman walking by pushing a stroller and an elderly man walking with a cane, slowly but surely.