Such a Fun Age(72)

“Wait, I don’t—this is . . .” Kelley blew through his lips. “Emira, I swear to God I didn’t do this . . . but I do think Alex did.”

Emira laughed and said, “Ohmygod,” as Zara pulled her toward Derrek’s approaching Honda. Shaunie hopped in the front seat of the SUV and Josefa went around to the other side.

“I’m not kidding, Emira. She did this. I don’t know how, but she came to my work and she—”

“Ohmygod! You have to stop! You two are obsessed with each other and it’s so fucking stupid. Actually, you know what? You obviously wanna be with someone who has lots of money and a great job and a book deal, so you might as well just date her again.” Once she was inside the car, Zara reached over her lap and pulled the back door shut.

In the backseat, Emira held both sides of her face. Zara put her seat belt on, Shaunie placed a coat on her legs, and Josefa said, “Gimme your phone.” By the time they reached Shaunie’s apartment, Emira had two missed calls from Kelley, though the new contact name in her phone read Don’t Answer.





Twenty-three


On Saturday afternoon, Alix struggled to find a walking speed that fell somewhere between feeling safe and looking offensively scared. For all she knew, Emira had moved out of this apartment, and the address she’d put on her résumé belonged to someone else. But Alix hadn’t called because she didn’t want Emira to reject her visit. She asked the cab driver to drop her off two blocks away.

Alix liked taking the scooter instead of the stroller because leaving the former somewhere by accident didn’t mean losing thirteen hundred dollars (and she could potentially use it as a weapon). With Catherine strapped to her front, Alix held the handlebars as Briar stood on the lime green children’s scooter with an unnecessary but adorable helmet strapped to her head. Alix guided Briar with one hand and held her phone in the other as she used Google Maps to navigate past apartment buildings built on top of one another with white bars in front of windows, some of which had cats perched behind them. Emira’s apartment building—two satellite dishes were attached to the side of it—was across the street from a basketball court currently covered in a thin layer of snow. Alix lifted Briar and her scooter onto the front step with her left hand and hip. She pressed the button labeled apartment 5B.

“Hello?”

This was definitely Emira’s voice, and not on a good day. Alix pushed forward and placed her mouth closer to the intercom.

“Emira? It’s Alix. Hi. It’s Mrs. Chamberlain.”

“Ummm . . . Hi?”

An older black man passed by on the sidewalk with his hands in his jacket pockets. He glanced up from underneath a blue baseball hat and looked at Alix as if she were lost. Briar pointed directly at him and said, “That man is driving the train.”

“Honey, shh. Emira, I know this is strange,” Alix said. “We just wanted to drop off something for you and . . . just say hi.”

Briar kept her eyes on the man and shouted, “Choo choo!”

Under a dense static, Emira said, “Wait . . . is Briar there with you?”

The man was almost at the next street, but Briar cupped her arms around her mouth to yell, “Stand clear of the closing doors, peas!”

“Briar is here and she’s making lots of friends,” Alix said. “But do you have a mailbox? I can just leave this inside the door.”

“No no, I’ll come down. Just a second.”

The fuzzy connection clicked off and Alix stood up straight.

Briar gave up on the train conductor and looked up at her mother. “Mama? Mama, what . . . what is this right here?” She touched the front door three times with her palm.

Alix licked her thumb and swiped dried yogurt off Briar’s lips. “This,” she said, “is a little adventure, okay?” She took out antibacterial gel and rubbed Briar’s hands, then her own.

Through the window in the door, Alix saw champagne-pink terry-cloth sweatpants come down the stairs first, and then the rest of Emira appeared. Her hair had been pulled up into a black silk wrap that came up together in a bun on top of her head. Emira had a T-shirt on underneath a denim jacket, which seemed like an odd choice of clothes for a weekend at home, but then again, this wasn’t just any weekend. There was no makeup on her face. Emira’s eyelids were swollen and soft.

“Hey.”

“I’m so sorry to surprise you. Hi.”

Briar looked up and pointed. “Mira has no hair.”

“Well, hi.” Emira smiled. “I still have hair. I just wrapped it up.”

“I know this is crazy.” Alix raised one hand in the air as if she were swearing on a Bible. “And if you’re busy, we don’t have to—”

“No no, come on in. I am four flights up, though.”

“Not a problem. Can I leave this down here?”

“Ummm . . .” Emira bit the side of her thumbnail and stared at the scooter. “I mean, I wouldn’t. But that’s up to you.”

The stairwell smelled like dust and mold, but when they made it to the fifth floor, Alix could start to smell Emira. Nail polish, lemon, the artificial trace of coconut, and wet grass. When Emira pushed her front door open and revealed her apartment, Alix thought, Okay, phew, I can do this, and then, Oh man, this is depressing.