Chapter 18 Lily
It’s finally lunch time. Three mediations over pettiness have me running on empty, and Jacquetta’s been on me all day. I want some peace.
I have my blinds lowered and my lights off in my office. I look like a sad office worker in a movie. I am a sad office worker in a movie with a container of sad soup.
That cafe across the way had great salmon and tea. And great company. A lunch with Javonte sounds fantastic right now.
I frown.
No it doesn’t. We aren’t doing that. I’m not allowed to want to spend time with him. I open my container of soup. It has no taste. I roll my eyes.
Great, now life has no taste or color without him? What am I, a cartoon character?
Let me focus on something else, like my after work schedule. Tonight’s space is bigger. It’s a mommy and me class, which means double the tables and chairs. I need to try to get out of here earlier...
Unless I call Javonte and ask him to help me.
No. I’m not reaching out to him and stroking his ego by needing him. I cross my arms. It was so much easier when he was there.
I pick up my phone, then set it back down before unlocking it. I can do it by myself. I’ve been doing it by myself this whole time anyway. I don’t need him.
I look again at today’s sign-ups.
I quickly send a text asking if he’s available to help me today. The bubbles appear instantly.
Javonte: Yes.
I stare at his response, then click the video icon in the group chat. Charisse’s face pops up on my screen, and I smile. I miss her and Porsche.
Porsche answers a few seconds later, and everything is right again.
We’re reunited.
I’m smiling, and they both notice.
“Why do you look like that?” Porsche asks.
It’s too fast for me to come up with a lie, so I just stumble through it until I tell the truth.
“I’ve been hanging out with Javonte a little bit.”
Charisse lights up, and Porsche just eyeballs me through the camera.
“What does ‘hanging out’ mean?” Porsche asks.
“He’s taken me out a couple of times, and he’s been there help me load and unload my stuff. I texted him today and asked him to help me, and he said yes instantly. I just have a bigger event today. It’s a lot of tables and chairs, and I realized he’s really helpful when he comes.”
Porsche purses her lips. Charisse nods.
“Yeah, I could see how all those arms and all those legs and all that body of his would be helpful to you,” Charisse says.
I shake my head. “No, not like that. Really, he just makes the process faster.”
“If fast is what you want,” Charisse says.
“Oh my God, stop.”
“I’m just saying.”
“It’s not anything, okay? He’s just being nice to me.”
“Why?” Porsche asks. “Why does he need to be nice to you? Why does he need to be anything to you? You could hire some high school kids to move your stuff. You could get volunteers. Why him?”
I don’t have an answer for that.
“He showed up.”
“Don’t let him play in your face again, Lily,” Porsche says. “He took you for granted once. Don’t be the fool twice.”
“She was never a fool, Porsche,” Charisse says. “And helping is not a crime. If he wants to earn his way back into your good graces, there’s nothing wrong with a little physical labor.”
She pauses, then tilts her head. “But you do have to think... what does he want in return?”
I look between them.
Does he want something in return?
“I don’t know if it’s like that,” I say.
They both give me a look.
I laugh and throw my hands up. I mean, maybe it is, but I’m in control, right?
Charisse raises an eyebrow. Porsche just shakes her head like she’s disappointed in me.
“Tell us how it goes tomorrow. From his bed,” Porsche says.
Wow.
“Girl, quit! But do tell us how it goes,” Charisse adds, winking. “And make sure you look really good.”
I laugh and shake my head. “Okay, y’all. I miss you. Bye.”
They say bye, and we hang up.
I stay in my office, staring into the distance again.
Not as sad.
Not warm either.
The rest of the day drags on, but once I’m back home, I’m filled with anxiety. Usually, thinking about my outfit for a pop-up poses no issue, but Charisse telling me to wear something cute rings in my ears. I’m overthinking whether or not each outfit I pick feels like I’m trying.
Nerves never factor into these events, but now, with Javonte coming because I asked him to, I’m on edge.
I finally throw something on and leave the house without looking in the mirror again.
Our few interactions keep running through my head as I drive. The portrait he painted of me sits on my dresser in my bedroom. I see it every morning when I wake up, and it affects me the same way each time.
He’s only coming to help. He’s just the muscle.
My heart flutters when I arrive and see him leaning against his car, waiting on me. He didn’t check in with me or let me know he was here. He’s just here.
I don’t go over. I step out of the van and open the back.He pushes off his car and follows me, immediately grabbing two tables.
I look at him, open my mouth, then think better of it and head toward the building. I’ve been here before, but I don’t know if they’ve made any changes.
We walk in silence through the building and into the giant space I have for my mommy and me class today.
“Damn,” Javonte says, whistling.
I laugh. “Yeah.”
“I see why you called me.”
I look at him, scared to say anything, because my truth might just fall out.
He sets the tables down and starts setting them up, not just dropping them and leaving them there. I start to tell him where to put the next table, then stop.
It’s already where it’s supposed to be.
By the time I turn around, half the room is already done...I didn’t have to tell him anything.
I’m gathering the paint when he comes back outside, and he takes the boxes from me. Our hands brush, and I pull mine back a little too fast.
He looks at me, smiles, and carries them inside.
I turn back to grab another box, but there’s nothing left but the can of paintbrushes.
He takes everything in.
Inside, he moves like he’s done this before, setting everything in place before I can even think to ask
I stop and stare at him.
There’s nothing for me to say.
“You good?” he asks once everything is completely done.
I look around. “Yes. I am. Thank you.”
“It’s going to be about two hours, right?”
I tilt my head and look up at him, stretching my neck to take him all in. He expects nothing. I can see it in his face.
He’s just here to help.
“Yeah. Two hours.”
“All right. I’ll be back.”
And then he walks out the door.
The door closes behind him, and the room settles back into silence.
I stand there for a second, taking in the setup. Everything is done. Tables lined up, chairs in place, easels set, water cups filled. I glance at my watch and blink.
I’m early.
That never happens.
I walk over to one of the tables and adjust a brush that’s not out of place, then smooth my hand over the edge of the canvas.
Everything’s ready.
I turn slowly, looking around the room again, almost expecting to find something I missed. A chair out of place. A table crooked. Something.
Nothing.
I breathe out and reach for my phone, flipping it over in my hand before setting it back down. I don’t need to text him. I don’t need to say anything.
My eyes drift toward the door.
He said he’d be back.
I press my lips together and turn away, heading for my supply bin. I check the paint bottles, counting them out one by one, even though I already know I have enough.
Red. Blue. Yellow. White.
I pause, staring down into the bin a little longer than necessary.
I don’t have to rush. I don’t have to carry anything else in. I don’t have to figure out how I’m going to flip the room fast enough before people arrive.
It’s just... done.
I straighten up and look around again, my arms crossing without thinking. The room looks the way it always does when I’m finished, but it didn’t take what it usually takes to get it there.
I’ve been doing this by myself for years. I exhale slowly and reach for my phone again, then stop halfway and let my hand fall.