Fiona and Jane(30)

Fiona fell out laughing. “Don’t leave him any tip.”

“Then you know he’ll be like, ‘Black people—’?”

“But he tried—oh God.” Fiona shook her head.

“Listen,” Tish said. “Back to this Gabriel person. Whatever you do, don’t let Rico Suave wife you up. Have fun with him . . .”

Fiona braced herself.

“. . . I just don’t want to see you getting caught up like last time—with Willy—”

“Let’s not get into all that, please? I just can’t—not right now.” Fiona dragged herself out of the booth. Slipped the shades that were resting on her head over her eyes. Tish knew a little bit of what had gone down. She didn’t know all of it, though.

“You’re still getting your money back from him, right?” Tish asked. “When’s that motherfucker going to pay you?”

Fiona wanted to go home, sleep off the rest of her hangover. Her phone rang again. Another unknown number, an unfamiliar area code. There were times when she thought it might be Willy, calling from his new phone. He’d have an explanation that would make sense of everything, turn her life right side up again. In those few seconds before her embarrassment flooded in at how stupid this seemed, Fiona felt her heart beating hope, hope, hope. She said goodbye to Tish outside the restaurant, and they walked in opposite directions down the sidewalk.



* * *



? ? ?

Last night at the club, Fiona had figured that the gorgeous brown-skinned man on the edge of the dance floor, a hungry grin on his face, meant to approach Tish. He wore a gray tweed newsboy cap, the brim tilted to the side. Soft dark eyes with heavy lids, a closely cropped beard with meticulous edges. Fiona was surprised when Gabriel had sidled up and placed a hand on the small of her back, gently, and asked her her name. His voice had air in it, like wind caressing leaves, coaxing them to fall. Later, when the rest of the girls said they were dipping out to another bar, Fiona stayed behind. “Use a condom!” Tish had whispered in her ear before giving her a slap on the butt, a coach sending a player out on the field.

At brunch, Fiona didn’t let slip how nervous she’d felt, going home with Gabriel. It had been three, four months since Fiona slept with someone. The first, since Willy. In the dark, Gabriel removed her clothes first, then his own, like it was the most natural thing in the world. Fiona kept anticipating some unpleasant feeling to arise—shame, or disappointment, or even just plain boredom. She felt none of those things, but unexpectedly, a tentative freedom. His mouth tasted like scotch and the waxy spearmint of his lip balm. They fell into the unmade bed that took up nearly all the space in his room, Gabriel muttering between bites of her neck and collarbone about how she was beautiful, so damn sexy. Fiona remembered something she once knew but had misplaced and then forgotten she’d wanted to find again: her body was a thing that belonged to her, and no one else.

The afternoon sun beamed from high overhead. Fiona strolled uptown, buzzing softly from the mimosas. Her phone vibrated with an incoming call. She picked it up this time.

“Ona?” Her mother sounded a little out of breath. “Why didn’t you call me back yesterday?”

“Sorry, Mom,” Fiona said. She reached for a lie. “I was just about to—”

“I need your help.” Fiona tensed. “I need to borrow five thousand dollars.”

“What?”

“Vitamins,” her mother said. “Business opportunity. I have a chance to get in at this level, but only this week—”

“What vitamins?” Fiona said. “I don’t have the money,” she added. She shook a cigarette out of her soft pack.

“It’s a good investment, Ona. Guaranteed return. I have five thousand saved, I need the other half. Vitamin supplements, everything organic. Collagen, fish oil, top-of-the-line best. A big Chinese investor is backing, and there’s only a limited chance for smaller angels. And we get free samples to try, every month.” Her mother went on, describing the starter kit of discounted products that she could use herself or sell at a profit, how she planned to host living room parties to recruit more investors to her team.

“Ona?” her mother said. “I was thinking, maybe it’s a good time for you to move back. We can be partners. You and Mommy.”

“It sounds like a scam,” Fiona said. “Who told you about this?”

“They have a website, you can go look at the videos. Very professional!” her mother insisted. “I researched everything already. No scam.”

“Mom, it’s a pyramid scheme,” Fiona said. “The people at the top get all the money, and they keep adding more and more people at the bottom. Don’t do it, okay? Promise me you won’t do it.”

“How much do you have in savings?”

Fiona stayed silent. She could hear her mother breathing into the receiver, waiting for an answer.

“How is Willy?” her mother said finally.

“Willy? He’s fine.” Fiona tossed her cigarette on the ground and stamped it out. “I have to go, Mom. I’m catching the bus.”

“Are you still smoking?”

“Mom,” she said, exasperated. “I’ll look at the website when I get home.”

“You promised you were going to quit. Why do you lie?”