Chapter 38 Come to Mama #2
As soon as she was on the stoop, Eve began pulling at the box’s tape, eager to see what Jamie had thought to give her back when things were still good. She opened the small notecard first, this one containing Jamie’s handwriting.
It was pure coincidence that I found this.
Proof that you were destined to soar.
Her curiosity piqued, Eve ripped open the rest of the package.
It felt like a book, the weight and size familiar, even if it made no sense that Jamie would give her something she already owned.
But it was, indeed, a text she knew well.
Audre Lorde’s Zami: A New Spelling of My Name .
But this version was different, both old and new.
A first edition. First printing. Bound in the publisher’s wraps, the cover red and purple—nothing at all like the more ubiquitous black-and-orange copy she owned.
Eve studied the book, its slightly tattered edges, the hint of smoker’s scent.
And inside the front cover, just beneath the title, there was an inscription and signature: For Eve—Audre Lorde.
Harlem 11/13/1991 . Eve gasped. Obviously, the book wasn’t addressed to her specifically, but in a way, perhaps with a twist of kismet, she felt like it had been.
She had no idea where Jamie got it or what it might have cost him, but she wondered about it—and him—all the way to Brooklyn and beyond.
It was the last thing she needed. In a moment when she was trying and succeeding at getting over Jamie, this only threatened to pull her back under.
She had to remind herself that he’d done this before things fell apart.
He’d made his feelings clear on Christmas, and everything prior was inconsequential now.
Right?
“Oh my god, whose bad idea was this?”
Thankfully, Eve’s aimless thoughts were halted by the task at hand.
Standing in the middle of some industrial kitchen in Brooklyn, Eve only smiled at her friend Nikole’s complaint as she pushed her tomato chutney—which was starting to look more like tomato juice—around her sizzling pan.
It was Maya’s idea for their friend group to try a cooking class, and to be fair, most of them could use the lesson, as evidenced by how poorly it was going.
But Eve wasn’t about to sell out her friend like that.
“I just go where y’all tell me,” Eve said.
“It was either Siobhan or Maya,” their friend Wesley said knowingly. “You know they ain’t happy unless they got us looking stupid.”
“Can I just say,” Brian piped up from the head of the class, “this was actually a good idea, for once?” Eve was just glad Brian was nowhere near her, as he and Maya had insisted on making the rest of them look like amateurs.
“You all are doing a great job,” their instructor, Chef Delia, said.
Her peppy tone and her inability to contain her laughter told them she was lying, but it was nice of her to say.
They were trying—and out of seven of them, five were near failing—to prepare a three-course West African meal of potato bhajias, suya kebabs, and mandazi.
“All I know is I had nothing to do with this,” Siobhan said. She was pointing her finger at those who’d brought up her name, and in the process, blinded the rest of them with her new engagement ring. “I wanted to go bowling.”
“That would’ve been even worse than this,” Eve said.
“It damn sure was my idea,” Maya practically shouted. “Y’all know y’all having fun, so stop.”
“If I’d known we’d have to cook before we ate, I would’ve eaten first,” said Maya’s cousin, Jason, from the station behind Eve.
“Made a pit stop at Chipotle or somethin’,” Nikole agreed.
“If we had put a little more thought into this, I bet we could’ve finessed Maya and Brian into making this whole meal for us,” Wesley said.
“They do get off on compliments,” Eve said, leaving the small group laughing. “Definitely could’ve used that to our advantage.”
“I wasn’t gonna bring it up, but I really think Maya has an unfair edge here,” Siobhan said.
“Yeah, her parents literally own a restaurant,” Brian said.
“Just so we’re all on the same page, we are sharing plates at the end, right?” Jason asked. “Because I’m about four, five seconds from snacking on these tomatoes.”
Eve turned back to him, understanding his plight. “You know I have a Kind bar in my purse?”
“See, that’s what I’m talking about. Women be prepared as fuck, man.”
“You need to be more worried about those sad potatoes than some granola,” Siobhan teased him, but he was already headed for the back of the room to rifle through Eve’s bag for the snack.
“Can I just say how nice it is to hang out in person with you guys again?” Brian said. “It’s been so fucking long.”
“Thank you!” Maya said. “Eve been gone for damn near a year. I might end up playing in Australia next year. Wesley is about to have three kids ruining his life. Can y’all enjoy this and stop complaining?”
“Eve, you got a call coming in, babe,” Jason called out. “You want your phone?”
Eve winced. “It’s not my mom, is it?” Pleased as she was with the strides they’d made, she also needed space to decompress from their conversation, the situation, and the fact that her dad hadn’t budged. Her friends were the best way to do that, and she didn’t want her attention suddenly split.
“Name says ‘Jamie Gallagher’…”
Eve shot her head in Jason’s direction as if he were Jamie himself. He held up her phone as proof, and she could only stare, dumbstruck. Was he calling on purpose? Was he okay? Would this call make her life harder? Easier?
“Eve?”
“No.” She shook her head, still trying to make sense of Jamie’s sudden reemergence—as if he knew she’d just gotten his gift and was thinking of him.
“No, I’ll call him back.” She glanced to Maya, at the cooking station directly across from her, hoping she had some inaudible sage advice to offer.
She was the only person in the room who knew all the dirty details of her time in Tennessee, including how distressed she’d been over their abrupt ending.
What the fuck? Maya mouthed to her.
Eve shrugged.
“Call him back,” Maya whispered.
Eve shook her head adamantly, not even sure how to approach going back down that road. But as she stared at her chutney and barely fried potatoes, she knew she would never be able to finish cooking, much less consume her meal, without knowing what Jamie wanted.
Fuck . She sure hoped Dr.Garvey wouldn’t think less of her for this. “I’ll be right back.”