Bet on It (31)

Aja’s face heated. The words made her feel like a lost little puppy, picked up off the street and brought in from the cold. Perhaps she was.

“Nice to meet you.” She swallowed, trying not to let her smile turn into a grimace.

Olivia and Jade smiled back at her as warmly as Miri had.

“Here, Aja, we left the love seat open for you,” Miri said, throwing herself down on the other side of the couch from Olivia. “I figured you might not want to be squished together with three people you barely know.”

“Plus, Jade smells like her man’s cologne, and that shit is awful,” Olivia commented, smiling into a glass of white wine.

Jade reached back and pinched Olivia’s knee. “You’re just mad that the only smell you carry around with you is the scent of your cat’s loathin’.”

Olivia’s mouth dropped open. “Fuck you!” she said. “Buffy loves me!”

Both Miri and Jade snorted into their glasses, leaving Olivia to press her back into the couch, looking affronted.

Their banter made Aja feel comforted. It was funny and familiar and reminded her of the conversations she had with Reniece. Aja was of the opinion that a friendship reached true intimacy once you felt comfortable enough to lightly drag each other now and then. She didn’t know how long Miri’s group had been together, but she could tell the roots were deep.

Toeing her shoes off and leaving them by the door, she parked herself in the love seat and took in her surroundings. Much like with Fresh Coat, Aja had a hard time picturing Miri picking out any of the furnishings in her home. Everything was nice and plush and older but well-kept, that exact same “auntie chic” aesthetic that made her nostalgic, right down to the ’80s-era Afrocentric art that hung on the walls.

“This is my mom’s spot,” Miri said, smiling over at her. “I mean, I live here too, but you know how they are—if I don’t own it, it’s still hers.” She rolled her eyes playfully. “Whenever she and my auntie go to the casino in Little River, I have the girls over.”

Aja nodded. “My mama has that print too.” She pointed to one hung next to the doorway to the kitchen. It was called The Sugar Shack, originally painted by Ernie Barnes. It depicted a bunch of Black people in an unassuming juke joint, their bodies bent and twisted, forever in motion, joyous in the freedom of their dancing. She’d seen the exact same painting in countless homes, beauty salons, and barber shops in her life. And she never got tired of seeing it. In her childhood home, the print hung in the dining room. Every time she saw it, wherever she happened to be, whoever she happened to be with, it filled her with warmth. This time was no different.

“I think my granny has that one too,” Jade laughed.

“I swear to God every Black person in the country gets a free print of that paintin’ when they’re born,” Miri said. “There’s no other explanation.”

“I’d believe it.” Aja settled into her seat more, her shoulders relaxed. “I have no idea where all the aunties and grannies are getting them from otherwise. I’ve never seen one for sale in any store I’ve ever been in.”

“It’s a conspiracy!” Jade giggled.

“Anyway, where are you from, Aja? I know you’re not from around here. My mama makes it a point to know every Black family in Greenbelt, and we haven’t had any Owens in town for as far back as I can remember, at least,” Miri asked.

All three pairs of eyes were trained on Aja, but she didn’t feel like she was under a spotlight the way she normally would.

“Uhm … I’m from DC actually.”

The shock on their faces was one Aja had grown accustomed to since moving to Greenbelt. Growing up, DC was simply home; she’d saved all her wonder for places like New York or Los Angeles. She tended to forget that it was one of the most popular cities in the country.

“You moved from Washington, DC, to Greenbelt?” Olivia spat out the name of her town like it had personally offended her. “For what?”

That was another reaction she’d gotten a lot—so much so that she had a ready-made reply that revealed just enough truth without giving too much away. “I needed a change of pace. I work from home, so I can do that anywhere, and I wanted to get out of the city, go someplace where things moved a little slower.”

“So why didn’t you choose somewhere like Hilton Head?” Jade asked. “I mean, you’d be surrounded by all those rich, racist assholes, but at least the beach is there. Here, you still get the racist assholes but none of the view.”

“I actually didn’t know Greenbelt even existed a little over a year ago,” Aja admitted. “But I stumbled across it online, and it seemed so peaceful. I felt this kind of immediate connection with it and knew I had to come. Plus … I sort of hate the beach. The sand always gets everywhere, and it’s disgusting.”

“Now that I agree with.” Miri leaned forward, grabbing the wine bottle off the table and shaking it at Aja. When she declined with a shake of her head, Miri topped herself off. “Give me some snowy mountains any damn day.”

“And what would you know about snow, Miriam?” Jade pursed her lips. “You’ve never seen more than an inch of snow in your life.”

“I still know that shit is better than sand all up through my labia.”