Chapter 21
21
Leo Vaughn had a giant, annoying-ass head, but damn if he couldn’t fix up a house. Since they’d gotten back together, he and Miri had made it a point to have regular kickbacks at their home. The place was big, three floors and a wraparound porch, in addition to the few acres of land it sat on. Jade had rolled up fashionably late to see people scattered around the yard and spilling out the front door. She was sure that every Black family in Greenbelt had at least one representative from their delegation here.
It took her forever to make her way inside to see Miri. Constantly stopped by people who knew her or her parents, making small talk and giving hugs, fielding questions about the upcoming football season. She was exhausted by the time she made it into the kitchen where Miri was sitting at her kitchen table, engrossed in a loud game of spades. They were playing a classic four-person game. Aja and Miri on one team and Leo’s older sister, Thea, and her husband, Ahmir, on the other.
Leo and Walker—Aja’s boyfriend—were at two barstools watching the game with equal parts fascination and fear. It was a loud one, and even Aja, who was famously the quietest in their friend group, was getting rowdy, throwing a jab at Ahmir when he literally threw some card down on the table.
Jade grabbed a beer from the cooler in the corner and joined the guys at the counter, settling onto an empty stool. “Figures you can’t play spades,” she remarked at Leo. “Now you’re stuck on the sidelines with the white boy.”
Leo sighed in return, barely acknowledging her, but she still got a kick out of his reaction.
“Oh, he can play.” Miri spoke up from where she sat, not even looking at them. “He’s just permanently banned from playing with his sister because they fucking cheat.”
“We do not cheat,” Leo said, defending himself and his sister in that calm way of his.
Ahmir snorted. “They absolutely cheat. Even when they aren’t on the same team.”
Thea shook her head profusely. “We can’t help the special bond we have. It’s intuitive. We can read each other.”
“Special bond, my left ass cheek,” Miri practically growled. “Y’all make dirty little backdoor deals.”
Thea shrugged, her chin hiked in the air. “If that’s how you feel.”
“That’s what I know.” Miri pointed a finger at the other woman. “Which is why I refuse to sit at the card table with the two of you at the same time. I’ll die behind that too.”
The entire group shared a loud laugh, drowned out by the sounds of the party happening around them. Truthfully, Jade couldn’t play spades either. Not that she’d admit it in front of everybody. She didn’t want to risk the scorn or their attempts at trying to teach her.
Relaxing back onto the barstool, she took a few big gulps of the cold beer in her hand. Truthfully, she almost hadn’t shown her face. She still wasn’t convinced that she’d stay much longer. Jade had spent the past few days holed up in her apartment, oscillating between self-pity and righteous indignation. Her last encounter with Lim had left her piteous and pitiful. She’d swallowed her pride and invited the other woman into her home only to find herself collapsed in a heap of tears when Lim had left.
Lim had looked her straight in her face, those dark eyes of hers searing into Jade like daggers, and told her explicitly that Jade didn’t seem like she was at all ready to be in any kind of relationship with her.
And damn if that didn’t seem to be the through line of her entire life right now. Not even two months ago, Jade had her chest puffed out to the world, half confidence, half ego, completely secure in the knowledge that she was it . Now? Shit. She could barely go ten minutes without almost crumbling under the weight of her current reality.
She recognized that she was being dramatic in some respects. There were people in the world—people within a square mile of her, even—who were suffering much more dangerous realities. Jade had her health, her friends and family, her job, she even made plenty of money. Coach or no coach, Lim or no Lim, her heart would not spontaneously combust in her chest.
But damn if it didn’t feel like it. She had put all her eggs in one basket off the sheer confidence that Landry would recognize her as the best choice for his successor and reward her for it. Then Lim had come into the picture, and she’d made Jade sloppy, impulsive.
No. That wasn’t true. Lim hadn’t done anything, not really. Jade had gotten spooked and started to act accordingly. Even when her so-called confidence was supposed to protect her and keep her steady. All it had taken was a pretty girl with shiny eyes to make her fold like a damn lawn chair. Lim had barely had to do anything but turn that knowing grin her way, and Jade had literally risked her career in an attempt to ease the anxiety and butterflies the sight of it caused in her belly.
She was a mess.
Jade wasn’t sure how long she sat there lamenting, but a ruckus coming from the table interrupted her navel-gazing. All four players were standing, shoulders tensed, eyes locked on the table in front of them. She had absolutely no clue what was going on. One second, she heard a collective intake of breath, and the next, everyone erupted as Aja slapped cards down on the table.
“Ooooh-weee,” Miri said, doing the gloating for them both. “Look at that. I know you’re mad. I know you are.”
Ahmir rubbed a hand over his bald head, composure kept, but Thea was heated. “Y’all barely won. Barely. ”
“A win is a win,” Aja said, grinning.
Miri grabbed Aja up by the neck, squeezing her and planting a wet kiss on her forehead. She was so ecstatic, someone might have thought she’d bet the house on the odds of them winning.
Jade watched as Aja lovingly pushed Miri away and made her way over to her boyfriend, standing between his legs. Walker whispered something to her that had her smiling shyly and ducking her head. It was so sweet that Jade’s teeth ached, and she made it a point to look away.
After accepting congrats from her husband, Miri grabbed the beer out of Jade’s hands and took a generous swig. Her best friend eyed her for a few long moments, the kind of understanding in her gaze that only came from a long time of knowing someone so intimately. It made Jade squirm in her seat.
“What?” she whined. “Stop looking at me.”
Miri did not stop. “Ms. Joyce told my mama that some pretty Asian girl showed up at her house looking for you the other week.”
“My mama couldn’t hold water if you strapped it to her damn back.”
“You got her coming to your folks’ house?” Miri laughed. “I didn’t know it was that serious.”
Jade grabbed her beer from Miri and tipped it back until the bottle was drained. “Please don’t start. It’s not like that.”
“I know it ain’t. I just don’t understand why.”
“Because…” She hesitated. The only answers she had were the ones she’d spent months regurgitating to herself in her head. She had convinced herself that they were solid, but the realization of how flimsy they actually were was almost embarrassing.
“Because,” Miri continued for her, putting her hands on Jade’s thighs and leaning in close, “you’re as stubborn as a mule, and you refuse to accept that something can be simple.”
“There’s nothing simple about any of this.”
“Because you keep making it hard, Jade,” Miri scoffed, sparing a look to her left, where Leo leaned on the island counter, blowing up a balloon at the request of his nephew. “This is not me pretending like I know everything, I swear. But I do know that sometimes the best thing to do for yourself is get the hell out of your own way.”
“I’m so scared of fucking everything up,” Jade said, looking down at her hands. “I never feel like I’m doing enough. There’s always… more. Something else to do. Someone else to prove myself to. It never ends.”
Miri sighed. “You can’t control them. Not what they want or how they feel or what they think, definitely not what they do. I think that’s why you’re so lost right now—you keep trying to, thinking you’re going to get any outcome other than disappointment.”
Jade bit into her bottom lip, not hard enough to break the skin but enough to curb the tears she wanted to shed in response to her best friend’s words.
“How long have you known me?” Jade asked.
Miri’s eyebrows furrowed. “Shit, longer than I’ve known myself, I think.”
“And in all that time, have I ever been able to shake off the weight of other people’s opinions that easily?”
“No.”
It was a simple answer. Straightforward. And it came so quickly and without hesitation. It was more devastating than anything else Miri had said. More damning. More terrifying.
“But so what?” Miri continued. “You’re not dead, girl. It’s not too late to change that.”
“Where would I even start?”
“If I were you, I’d start by telling your coach to get the hell over himself and go from there.”
Jade snorted. “Oh, so you really want me to lose my job, then?”
“You’re sitting here convinced that you’re about to anyway. Falling apart at the seams and shit. What do you have to lose?”
“Literally everything I’ve spent my whole life working for.”
“There are other teams. More opportunities. And there’s definitely plenty of future left.” Miri stared her down. “You’re thirty-two years old, bitch. You getting head coach now would just be a stepping stone to something bigger anyway. Not getting it only means that your path is going in a different direction.”
“When the hell did you get so smart?”
“When I learned that my head didn’t actually have to live in my ass.”
A deep, rumbly snort could be heard from across the room. Jade rolled her eyes when a few heavy footsteps followed until Leo was standing behind Miri, his hand immediately going to her waist.
“It took you long enough.” Leo’s tone was low but playful.
Jade expected her friend to respond with something snarky, maybe pinch the man on the ass and tell him to stay out of grown women’s conversations. But clearly, Jade was projecting hard. Instead, Miri put a hand on his lightly stubbled cheek, dragging her thumb over the brown skin there, before leaning up a bit to press a kiss to his lips. The couple lingered in the moment for a few seconds, as if completely unaware they were being watched, before they separated.
When Miri spoke again, it was to Jade. “All that stubbornness ended up just being me putting off my own happiness anyway.”
Jade took Miri in. Her dark brown skin glowed from the inside, and her brown eyes were just as bright. Everything about her, from the dark orange on her long nails to the white halter top she wore, was vivid. Her best friend had always been somewhat larger-than-life. Funny and outgoing. Well and truly confident. Even at her lowest, Miri had served as a beacon of inspiration. Jade had always looked up to her, no matter their lack of age difference. Miri had also been through hell and back. Life had dealt her hands hard enough to make anyone crumble. And it wasn’t that Miri never had. It was just that she’d always managed to come back. She’d always managed to keep hold of who she was. And now, in the prime of her life, Miri had a loving, nurturing relationship, a beautiful home, a life. A good life. One that she’d cultivated and fought for.
All because she’d believed that she deserved it.
Jade knew she deserved that head coach spot. But she deserved more than that too. Love and connection. The very life that she’d convinced herself was better to put off to the side.
She needed to ask herself how much longer she was willing to make those concessions. Sitting there, seeing what Miri had—what she’d made—didn’t make her jealous. Not in that nasty, envious way that burned hot and ugly.
It was more of a restlessness she felt. A longing.
And something that seemed an awful lot like resolve.