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DESSI
You’ll be right here with me, in my heart. I could never forget you, and I’ll be back before you know it. Me and you, together again.
Dessi kisses her cheek, and a sad look passes over Tilda’s face, but she forces a smile and nods.
DESSI
You’re my girl and I love you, Tilda.
TILDA (SMILING WITH TEARS IN HER EYES)
Love you, too, Bama.
THIRTY-NINE
Verity
Monk:Hey. When are you back in town?
The text sends a little jolt to my heart. Monk and I have texted some over the last week, wished each other a Merry Christmas, that kind of thing, but there hasn’t been much contact otherwise. And, God, it’s been a long two weeks not seeing him.
Me:I’m already back! The aunties were attending watch night service at church, and that wasn’t exactly how I saw myself ringing in the new year.
Monk:You didn’t go to New York to hang out with Mel and Tessa?
Me:Tessa decided to go home and spend time with her family.
I was actually relieved when Tessa told us that. Her family gets on her nerves, riding her about meds and checking on her incessantly the way my aunties do with me, but I think that could be exactly the kind of stabilizing force Tessa needs right now.
Me:And Mel has a new guy who’s taking up a lot of her time. She’s in Bali with him.
Monk:Bali sounds fantastic. Better than being back here working already.
Working?Here?
Leaning against my kitchen counter, I call him right away.
“’Sup?” He answers on the first ring.
“You’re back in LA? You didn’t go home for Christmas?”
“I went, but I didn’t stay long. I never spend the full break there. I was in the VA on Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, and then your boy was out. I saw the fam, though.”
“How was everyone?”
“Mom and the rest are good. My dad has gout.”
“Ewww.”
“Damn, Vee.” He chuckles. “It’s not flesh-eating bacteria.”
“Sorry. Not, ewww.” I breathe out a laugh. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant… one of my cousins had gout and his got bad. Is your dad in much pain?”
“Not too much, but if he doesn’t follow doctor’s orders, it’ll get worse. On several things actually. Old man’s prediabetic. Got high blood pressure. I’m like, dude, get it together.”
Beneath the lightness of his words lurks a note of concern.
“You worried about him?” I ask.
