Page 35 of IRL: In Real Life
“Tell her yes,” I said. “And she can save the dramatics for church.”
“Mmm. That sounds like a man who got something to do.”
I rolled my eyes even though she couldn’t see it. “You called me.”
“And now I’m glad I did.” I heard her moving around on the other end, cabinet doors opening, a television turned low, then her daughter, Ari, my niece, somewhere in the background.
“Who you talking to?” the little voice asked.
“Your uncle,” Ciara said.
“Uncle Micah!” Ari yelled. “You still don’t got no wife?”
I leaned back against the counter and laughed, full and real this time.
Ciara cackled. “Kids just be telling the truth.”
“Tell her mind her business.”
“Tell him I said that is my business,” Ari yelled back, and I had to put a hand over my mouth because I was laughing too hard to answer right.
Ciara got herself together first. Barely.
“So,” she said. “Since the children have spoken for the family, would you like to explain this suspiciously decent mood?”
The microwave beeped. I took the plate out and carried it to the island. “I’m eating.”
“That was not an answer.”
“It was enough.”
“It never is.”
I sat on one of the stools and took a bite. “What’s going on with you?”
“Oh, no. Don’t try to redirect. I know your tricks.” A pause. Then, in a lower tone, “Who is she?”
I smiled down at the plate.
That was all Ciara needed.
“Oh, my God.”
“There is no oh, my God.”
“There absolutely is. You smiling in silence. That is the loudest thing you do.”
I stabbed a piece of asparagus with my fork. “You are deeply invested in a life you do not pay for.”
“I’m your sister. It’s literally my calling.”
I let her talk for a while after that, mostly because I liked hearing her. Family had a way of pulling me back into something human when the rest of life started getting too polished. She updated me on Mama’s latest hosting ambitions, Pop’s new recliner chair he ordered without mama knowing, Ari’s school drama, some cousin I hadn’t seen in months who had apparently started selling luxury candles with names likeIntentionalandSoft Life No. 3. By the time we got off the phone, half my foodwas gone and the condo felt less like a place I had come back to and more like somewhere I was actually in.
I cleaned up, rinsed the plate, wiped down the counter, and left the kitchen lights low.
Then I put music on.
Kut Klose.
