Such a Fun Age(27)

Under the mariachi music that suddenly seemed quite loud, Emira’s eyes went wide and her mouth twisted as if she’d found a hair in her food. Kelley went on.

“My mom was like, ‘What?’ And my brother goes, ‘Michael’s dad told me to turn it off because . . . ’ Well, I’m not gonna repeat it, but he obviously had no idea what that meant. But I was older, so I did. And I saw this kid’s dad all the time. And I was like, Holy shit. You’re a bad man, Michael’s dad. I’m looking at evil when I see you at school.”

Emira stared at Kelley and her heart started to double.

The two of them had only discussed race once, and barely. At the basketball game, a group of black teens saw Kelley hand Emira her ticket, and one, very much wanting to be heard, said, “That’s a damn shame.” Kelley did a very cute half salute in their direction and said, “Okay . . . thank you, sir. Thank you for your service.” When they made it to their seats, Kelley sat with his legs spread and leaned in to her ear. “Can I ask you a question?” Emira nodded. “Have you ever dated . . . ” He trailed off, and Emira thought, Oh Lord. She crossed her legs, thinking, It’s whatever. Let’s just watch the game. “Have you ever dated,” Kelley started again, “someone who wasn’t . . . so tall?”

Emira laughed and shoved his shoulder. “Boy, stop.”

Kelley raised his shoulders in mock-concerned defense. “It’s a legitimate question. Would your parents be mad if you brought home a . . . tall guy?” Emira laughed again. She didn’t call him out on stealing that joke from The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. Maybe that was part of the joke. They never discussed it again.

Emira had dated one white guy before, and repeatedly hooked up with another during the summer after college. They both loved bringing her to parties, and they told her she should try wearing her hair naturally. And suddenly, in a way they hadn’t in the first few interactions, these white men had a lot to say about government-funded housing, minimum wage, and the quotes from Martin Luther King Jr. about moderates, the ones that “people don’t want to hear.” But Kelley seemed different. Kelley Copeland, with his dadlike humor and exaggerated expressions and his affinity for saying the same word three times (hey hey hey, listen listen listen, no no no), could apparently acknowledge that he was dating a black woman, and that she could appreciate a good story over the need for decorum, but still . . . shouldn’t he have said “the N-word” instead? Maybe save the whole thing for the seventh or eighth date? Emira couldn’t tell. Sitting across from him, she wrestled with feeling moderately appalled that he had said the whole thing, with that painfully distinctive hard r sound at the end, but as she watched the veins in his hands move as he took a last bite, she settled on, You know what? Imma let you get away with that too.

“What did Michael’s dad look like?”

“I mean, I’m sure he looks like most dads in Allentown.” Kelley put his fork at the side of his plate. “But now when I think of him I picture him in a cowboy hat on a front porch with a—”

Emira reached across the table to stop him before he did another impersonation. She lowered her voice and asked, “Do you wanna go back to your place?”

Later, in Kelley’s bedroom, he sat up in bed and said, “We forgot to drink the wine.” He put shorts on and walked out to the kitchen.

In a T-shirt of his that read Nittany on the front, Emira got up to pee. She took a selfie in Kelley’s medicine cabinet mirror and sent it to Zara, who replied, I can’t stand you rn. It was 11:46 p.m.

Kelley retrieved two glasses and set them on the island counter at the center of his kitchen. Emira brought the bottle wrapped in a purple plastic bag and stood at the other side.

“‘Little Lulu’s Ballet Academy,’” Kelley read. He removed the bag and set the wine on the counter. “That sounds like a complete nightmare.”

“It’s not. I take Briar every Friday and it’s like, my favorite thing.”

“This is the one I saw at the grocery store?”

“Mm-hmm. She’s terrible at it.” Emira stretched her arms up over her head and felt the bottom of the T-shirt begin to reveal her behind. “All the other girls are very shy and graceful, but Briar is always yelling that she wants a grilled cheese and shit. Next week is our last class. It’s a Halloween party and we’re very excited about it.”

Kelley poured the wine into the two glasses. “Will you be dressing up?”

“I will be a cat. And Briar will be a hot dog.”

“Nice. That classic cat-and-hot-dog combination. Are you ready for this?” Kelley placed a glass in front her. “Oh wait, you already tried it. Am I ready for this? Yes. Yes I am.”

With his eyes on Emira, Kelley did a very showy swirl of the wine in his hand. He took a sip, let it hit the back of his throat, and said, “Oh wow.” He nodded as he placed it back on the counter. “Shit, yeah, this tastes like a country club.”

“I told you. It almost makes me sad ’cause I’ll probably never have it again.” Emira leaned her forearms onto the counter. “Do you think your high school girlfriend is drinking this in first class right now?”

Kelley laughed. “Probably, yes.” He eyed Emira before he added, “You wanna know how I broke up with her?”