The Brooklyn Way

Chapter 8

8

C ameron

One Month Later

“I need to talk to you.” Tiara slid into my office a few seconds after I’d arrived, closing the door behind herself. I saw her reach for the doorknob and surmised what she was about to do.

“Ay, don’t lock that door, Ti.”

She turned to me, a frown marring her usual good looks. “Why not? You worried that your girl is gonna try to open it and get her panties in a bunch if it’s locked?” Her frown morphed into a devious smirk. “Especially when she finds me in here with you?”

“Not at all, because the door won’t be locked… unless you’re on the other side of it.”

The two of us engaged in a short staring contest. Finally, she conceded and walked toward my desk, leaving the door closed but not locked.

“So, it’s true then?”

“What’s true, Tiara?” I didn’t have time for her bullshit. I needed to lock up my wallet so I could head to Carrington’s bridal boot camp. I wanted to beat the women there and have everything set up.

“You told your cousins that the seamstress girl is… that one.”

“That was four weeks ago. Why are you bringing that up?”

“Because I thought you were just talking shit and trying to keep Isaac from fucking behind you. But now it feels like every time I see you, I see her. Now it seems like you two might be… close.”

I took a deep breath and exhaled it in a sigh. “I’m trying to figure out what that would have to do with you. If Brooklyn is that one, if we are together—if we are close, what does that have to do with you?” I made eye contact with her, holding her gaze until I was sure we were locked in. “You’re in a relationship with Ethan. You’re that one to him. You two are always together. He’s your ace-in-the-hole, Tiara.”

She stomped her foot against the floor and folded her arms across her small chest. “I don’t want him.”

I cocked my head to the side. “Am I the one you should be telling that to?”

“Yes, because you’re the one I want!”

I didn’t need this shit. “You sound about six years old. Grow up and read the room, ma. There’s nothing happening here. I’m not interested in you. You hanging around and professing your desire to have me won’t change that. I like you as a person. You know I think you’re cool. But I don’t fuck with you on any kind of deep level. We’re as surface as surface can be. I don’t like the way you move. I would never trust your motives, Tiara. And now that I know you were fucking up on Isaac…” I let my thoughts trail off.

She refused to admit defeat. “I thought you and this girl were a summertime… thing.”

I didn’t respond because the thought on the tip of my tongue was that summer wasn’t over. I didn’t want to give Tiara any indication of what Brooklyn and I had going on. It wasn’t any of her business.

She filled in the silence. “What’s gonna happen when summer ends and you have to go back to Chicago? You planning to take her with you? Because otherwise, you have to know that somebody’s gonna fuck behind you, and it might very well be Isaac.”

“As long as it’s not every nigga on the island.” Fuck! I thought to myself as soon as the words left my mouth. That was harsh. It wasn’t fair of me to slut-shame her. That wasn’t even my style. I was trying to protect Brooklyn. “Yo, my bad. I’m sorry for insinuating anything about you and who you’ve spent time with. That’s none of my business.”

She stared at me coolly. “Fuck you, Cameron. You’ll be leaving for Chicago at the start of September. You won’t be here to protect… that one. You’d better hope she knows how to protect herself, because if she gets near anything else of mine, I’m fucking her up.”

“I’m not yours!” I called to her retreating back, before locking my wallet in my desk drawer and heading out of my office.

I walked into the bridal boot camp workout room just in time to see Tiara flounce toward Brooklyn, who was standing there looking like she was ready for class to begin.

“Excuse you.” Tiara shoulder checked Brooklyn as she passed, causing Brooklyn’s body to spin slightly.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Brooklyn questioned as collective gasps and murmurs traveled through the room.

It was Carrington’s voice that rang out the loudest. “What the fuck is your problem, Tiara?”

I said her name in a frustrated sigh. “Tiara.”

She ignored everybody except Brooklyn, retracing her steps until she was back in Brooklyn’s space. With her finger pointed in Brooklyn’s face, she spoke. “You better—”

Brooklyn cut her off before she could finish, roughly pushing Tiara’s hand. “Get your hand out of my face.”

The elevated volume of Tiara’s voice reverberated against the walls in the room. “Don’t fucking touch me!” She gave Brooklyn a push.

Practically everybody in the room started moving toward the two women at that point.

“Don’t fucking touch me !” When Brooklyn shoved her back, Tiara’s petite body wasn’t ready. She stumbled backwards a few steps, lost her footing, and landed with a thud on her ass.

Tiara was an athlete, though. She was back on her feet in milliseconds. I deftly slid between the two angry women. Before I could speak, Carrington spoke.

“Tiara, you need to leave. I don’t know what’s going on with you, but you don’t get to come in here being a bully and putting your hands on people. You need to go.”

“I’ll go.” Brooklyn huffed, before stomping over to her things, swooping them up and leaving the room.

Everybody in the room stood there in shocked silence for a few seconds. Finally, Carrington spoke again. “Tiara, you need to go. I don’t want you here right now. I don’t know what your problem is, but I’m over you. We’ll see you at the next class.”

Tiara looked up at Carrington who stood at least ten inches taller than her. “You’ve chosen your side, Carri. I won’t be back. I’m dropping out of your wedding.”

Carrington’s shoulders hunched at her sides. “You have to do what you have to do.”

“Yeah, I do!”

We all watched Tiara gather her things and storm out of the room.

I glanced over at my sister. “Class is canceled. I need to find Brooklyn.”

She nodded solemnly. “I’ll call you later.”

I could see that Brooklyn was already on the deck when I arrived home.

I made my way to the door, stepped out onto the deck, and closed the door behind myself. “Hey, Brooklyn.”

When she heard my voice, she slapped her hands over her face. “Please don’t look at me, Cameron. I’m so embarrassed. I can’t believe the way I behaved at Carrington’s bridal boot camp today.” Her voice quivered. “Getting into with Tiara like that. She’s been picking me with me since I’ve been here, but pushing her hand outta my face and knocking her down? That’s not me. You must think I’m so ghetto.”

I chuckled humorlessly. “Nah, what was ghetto was her shoulder checking you. You didn’t come off as ghetto, baby. You were defending yourself.”

“I don’t understand what’s going on with our exes. First Vince drives over two hours and shows up at my grandparents’ house. Then Tiara tries to start a fight with me? I don’t know.” She pulled her hands down from her face, keeping her eyes on the water.

I slid into the seat next to her-- just like I did almost every day. The two of us sat in silence watching the water until she spoke.

“Cameron, tell me about basketball.”

“What do you want to know?”

“My daddy was a huge basketball fan. He loved any kind of basketball, even if it was high school kids. He loved Michael Jordan, loved The Bison-- loved Christian Upton. When I was little, he would take me to the games sometimes.” Her grin could have lit up the night sky. “It was… amazing. And overwhelming and exciting all at the same time. What is it like when the music starts and the lights drop? When the spotlights are bouncing all over the stadium, the fans are cheering and the announcer calls out your name? Does it ever get old-- running through the Soul Train line and slapping hands with all of your teammates?”

I laughed aloud. “Not the Soul Train line. It’s not a Soul Train line, baby.”

“You know what I mean. Do you ever get… used to it?”

“It’s… shit, how can I explain it? It’s exhilarating. Your heart starts pounding, the blood rushes through you. For me, I get antsy. My feet want to move. I can’t say that it gets old or that I’m used to it… but I will say that there have been games where I’ve been distracted. Games where I’ve been in my head, focused on something else.”

“Is it like a regular job? Like where some days you don’t feel like being bothered?”

“Definitely,” I admitted. “It can be like a regular job. Some days, I get to the gym and I’m tired as fuck. My first couple of years when I was still wilding, I would show up to the gym hungover and off a few hours of sleep. That shit was the worst! Team meetings can seem redundant as hell. Your teammates doing stupid shit… on and off the court can suck. People who don’t know your job, trying to micromanage you makes you want to flip the hell out.” I paused. “Yeah. It can definitely be like a regular job. But there are moments when it’s magical. Moments where you’re bullshitting around with guys you actually like and you think to yourself, ‘I’m getting paid to do this.’ I get to do what I actually love for a living.”

“What would you do if you weren’t a basketball player?”

“Uhm,” I considered the question, “I don’t know. I could see myself being an influencer. I’m tall. I look good in a suit. Maybe I would be a male fashion influencer or maybe sneakers. Yeah, I could see myself doing the newest sneaks, custom sneaks. I can see that. What about you? What would you be doing if sewing wasn’t your passion?”

“I don’t know. I like to travel. Maybe I would be a flight attendant.”

“I can see that.”

She rolled over in her chair so that she was on her side facing me. “Can I tell you something?”

“What’s up?”

“About three years ago, I started talking to a therapist on tele-doc. I wasn’t in the throes of my grief, but I was still in a bad place. I would be going along fine, then the anniversary of the train crash or my parents’ birthdays would come up, and I would go into a pit. I never let anybody know just how low I really was. I laughed at jokes, smiled, grinned, and created beautiful gowns. I only cried in the shower with the water on full blast or in my car. Anyway, the therapist was really helpful. She gave me a shoulder to cry on and to dump all of my feelings on. She told me that I clung to Vince after the accident because of the trauma. She was right. I was so afraid to lose another person. I didn’t have anybody in Londynville but Vince. I felt like I had to hold on to him. Even when he treated me poorly, I convinced myself that his treatment wasn’t that bad. I could deal with it, because it was better than being alone. She told me that I may suffer from what’s known as Complex PTSD.”

“How wouldn’t you, though? What you experienced was extreme. Losing your parents within days of each other while you were off at school? That would give anybody PTSD.”

“I just wanted to let you know, because I don’t know if that’s what’s happening here, Cameron. I’m scared that I traded Vince for you. Now I’m clinging to you.”

“I don’t feel like you’re clingy, though.”

She widened her eyes, then twisted her lips. “I’m always trying to be around you. I moved into your house. I sneak into your office at work. I feel like I never give you a break-- even when I know you must be sick of me.”

“Shit, I might have the same disorder then, because none of that seems clingy to me. When I come home and you’re here, that makes me happy as hell. When you sneak into my office at work and let me kiss your soft ass lips, or squeeze your fat ass booty, or finger pop that pussy… I love that shit. I can’t wait for the day you crawl under my desk and give me head while I talk to one of the other coaches—trying not to bust or scream out like a bitch. Maybe it’s the fact that I’m a twin. I incubated with somebody right up on me in my space. We both know good and well that Carrington was taking up most of the womb. She probably had my face pressed into the wall.”

We both laughed heartily.

“All I’m saying is that I like being near you. I’m not overwhelmed by your need to be close. Half the time, I’m trying to get in your skin.”

“In my coochie,” she corrected.

“That too.” I agreed. “Ay, I should tell you that I tend to be a saver.”

Her brows furrowed and her eyes squinted. “What does that mean?”

I stared out at the water, my shoulders sagging a little. “When I see a woman in trouble, I have the tendency to want to jump in and… save her. I have a savior’s complex.”

We both fell quiet.

“When Carrington and I were about thirteen, we took a life-saving class for teens. It was at the Jackson Island firehouse. Our mother set it up. The fire chief agreed to let us attend a First Aid and Basic Life-Saving Skills class, and my mom let his daughters attend her etiquette class at a deep discount. Anyway, we both passed the class with flying colors.

“Then about two weeks later, I was at an AAU event. I was in the corner of the gymnasium, caking with some little girl from one of the travel teams. She started choking on whatever was in her mouth. Candy or gum or something. She started choking on it and for the life of me, I couldn’t remember anything from the class I had taken a few weeks earlier. I stood there watching her struggle. I was in my own head about how it would feel to watch her die right in front of me. I was paralyzed.

“She managed to grab my hand and shake my arm so hard I thought she would pull it out of the socket. Her shaking me brought me out of the funk, and I was able to get her coach’s attention. Once the coach took over, all I could do was run out of the gym straight to the bathroom where I threw up in the garbage can. When I finished throwing up, I went and got on the bus. I was embarrassed as hell. I couldn’t face my teammates, even though I’m sure they didn’t know anything about what happened. I definitely couldn’t face her or her team. I mean, I almost let her die, then ran out on her. Since then, I have a really hard time turning my back on women in distress.” I ran my hand over my head. “Shit, I need more therapy. Just talking about that situation works me up. She almost died, right in my face.”

“A clingy person and a person with a savior’s complex.” She shook her head back and forth. “We are probably the worst two people on earth to have found each other.”

I looked out over the water.

“How do you think it’s gonna go when you leave for training camp? That’s soon, right?” she asked.

“I leave for Chicago the day after Labor Day. I don’t know how it’s gonna go,” I admitted. “It’s gonna be hard. I know it’s only been about two months, but you’re… under my skin.”

“Same. I leave the week after you.”

“Leave?” I screwed up my face. “Where are you going? Thought you were gonna make your life here on Jackson island.”

“I hope to.” Her grin was radiant.

I smiled too. “Damn, you love it here more than the old school locals.”

“I do love it here. Y’all are pumping something into the Jackson Island water or the air or something. This place just… it agrees with me. All of these sunny days, this warm weather, and the balmy nights make me happy. They make me feel alive and productive.”

“If you love the island so much, where are you going?”

“On a retreat. The women’s auxiliary at my grandmother’s church is going, and she invited me. A four-day prayer retreat in New Mexico. My grandmother’s group is leaving after the prayer retreat, but she asked me to stay. Right after the prayer retreat, the facility is hosting a six-day grief retreat. Big Red, that’s what I call my grandmother, she wants the two of us to attend the grief retreat. We’ll leave the grief retreat and go back to Kentucky, because she can’t stand to be away from my grandfather for more than ten days.” Her chuckle was light. “I’ll stay with them for a week and a half, then I’ll head to Virginia to do a five-day wellness retreat. By the time I get back to the island, it’ll be time for Carrington’s wedding.”

“So, you’re gonna be traveling the entire month of September?”

She nodded. “Yeah. It’ll help me with missing you. I don’t know what it’s gonna be like to be without you after having you the whole summer. I’m used to spending time with you and lying next to you at night. I’m used to the companionship.”

“Say less.”

“Our connection is deep.” She took a beat. “At least it seems deep. Our connection could be based on sex… proximity and sex. I mean, we’re with each other all the time—here, at work, basically everywhere. Then there’s the sex. I mean, we’re always having it.”

I snickered. “Not always.”

“Not when I’m on my cycle or the two times I went to Kentucky this summer. Other than that we have sex every day, Cameron… multiple times a day.” She closed her eyes. “I think being away from the island when you leave will give my feelings… our feelings for each other time to settle.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that we’ll be able to get clarity on if our feelings are legitimate or caused by the fact that we’re always together.” She stood from her chair, joining me in mine. She made herself comfortable on my lap and placed her back against my chest. “Sometimes, I feel like you might be my person. Space will give me the opportunity to figure out if you’re my person or if…”

“I’m your dick?” I queried.

She slapped my chest softly while whining my name. “Cameron.”

“Do you need space, Brooklyn?”

“Right now, no. Right now, I want you all up on me all of the time. But we’re having a summer fling. We should be all up on each other while it’s summer. In the fall, you’re gonna leave me.”

I hated to even think about it, but what she said was true. I was going to leave her-- not willingly but out of necessity. My job was in another part of the country. I couldn’t stay on Jackson Island forever. It was only supposed to be for the summer. And summer was going to come to an end.

Friday morning, while Brooklyn still slumbered, Carrington joined me in the master closet. She pawed through Brooklyn’s colorful wardrobe with a cheery grin on her face.

“Brooklyn’s been sewing her ass off. She must be in a good place.”

I didn’t respond. I just stood there leaning against the closet island, watching my twin sister.

“You’re good for her, twin. All of the attention… and sex you’re giving her is doing wonders for her confidence. Did you see how she handled Tiara? Knocked her cocky ass right off her feet.” She cut her eyes at me. “Being well-loved always does wonders for a woman. Does she know that you love her?”

I scoffed lightly. “It’s only been a couple of months.”

“Uh huh.” She twisted her lips to the side. “I know you, brother. You have… lover boy tendencies. You tend to fall for women, especially women in… situations.”

“She’s not in a situation.” My protest fell on deaf ears.

“She was when she first got here.”

“I wasn’t here when she first got here.”

“Then, it’s not the savior thing, huh?” She studied me. “It’s not the savior thing. Okay. Okay. Well, Brooklyn is gorgeous, and she does have a body built by the gawds. Did you see how every man except for Bryce was ogling her at the party in that colorful swimsuit?”

“Yeah, I saw that shit.”

Her laughter was tinkly and filled with mirth. “Touchy. Touchy, big brother. Don’t worry. Brooklyn only has eyes for you. You might’ve noticed those other guys checking her out, but I promise you, she didn’t notice. She only noticed you.”

I glanced down at my watch. “Yo, you’ve gotta get to the airport. You got this?”

“I’ve got it, twin.” She pulled out a tiered yellow sundress that looked both dainty and feminine to me. “Tell Brooklyn to wear this. And have her there by seven.”

I gave her a quick side-hug before watching her leave the closet. I quickly selected something for myself—a short-sleeved white button-up and camel-colored linen slacks. Then I went and sat on the side of the bed, rubbing my fingers across Brooklyn’s cheek. Her skin was soft as hell. It was cliché, but her skin really was like silk.

“Brook,” I called softly.

I knew she was out of it because she’d taken about five painkillers the night before to ward off the menstrual cramps that were kicking her ass.

“Brook.”

Her eyes fluttered open slowly. When I came into view, she smiled. “Good morning.”

“Good morning. How do you feel? You still cramping?”

She seemed to take a minute to assess herself. “A little. I’ll re-up on meds after I eat breakfast.”

“We have to run an errand today.”

She stretched and gave a small yawn. “Can we please do it tomorrow? Today is my mom’s birthday. All I wanna do is lay low. I’m not even going to the community center today.”

“I know. It’s just that my mom wants to see you. She doesn’t want you to be alone today. She wants us to meet her.”

Brooklyn looked hesitant but finally relented. “Okay. What time is it?”

“Fifteen minutes to six, and we need to be there by seven.”

Misty Trace Beach backed up to my parents’ property line. It was technically public but because my parents lived in a gated community the public couldn’t access it. My parents, Carrington, Bryce, Nyrah, Big Red, and Pop-Pop were already standing at the shore when Brooklyn and I arrived.

A table had been set up. They were crowded around it.

“What’s happening?” Confusion was evident in her voice. “My grandparents are here. How did you get my grandparents here?”

“Carrington got your grandparents here, baby. Today is August ninth. We’re celebrating your mother’s birthday.”

With no preamble or forewarning, Brooklyn broke down in tears. I knew part of her reaction was hormonal and based on the fact that she had her period. The other part, though, was based in the here-and-now.

I took her hand and propelled us forward toward the crowd. When we met up with her grandparents, Brooklyn fell into her Pop-Pop’s arms sobbing so hard that tears began to form in her grandmother’s eyes.

“It’s okay,” her grandfather crooned in a soothing tone. “It’s okay, Brookie. This is a long time coming. Your mother has deserved this for so long. We do it for your daddy every year, but we don’t honor Raquel the way we should.”

Big Red dug tissue out of her crossbody purse and handed it to Brooklyn when she was finally able to collect herself.

“Thank you.” She gave Big Red a bone crushing hug. “What are you and Pop-Pop doing here?”

“Well, your gentleman friend over there invited us to come here to celebrate your mother’s birthday, baby. He said he was putting together a little memorial. Your grandfather and I agreed to come right away. Don’t be rude; formally introduce us to your friend.”

Wrapping an arm around my waist, Brooklyn introduced us. “Big Red, Pop-Pop, this is Cameron Field. He’s Carrington’s twin brother. Cameron, these are my grandparents, Jessup and Ruth Waverly.”

I exchanged a handshake with her grandfather, while her grandmother pulled me into a warm hug and said, “Everybody calls me Big Red, baby.”

Big Red brushed a few pieces of wayward hair from Brooklyn’s face. “Your Pop-Pop is right, Brookie. We celebrate Paul every year with a big to-do, but oftentimes, Raquel’s memory gets lost. When Carrington called me and told me about her brother’s plans and Mr. and Mrs. Field offered up a guest bedroom in their fabulous house, we couldn’t say no. Have you seen their house? I’ve never seen a house so fancy.”

Brooklyn chuckled while swiping away more errant tears.

“Carrington picked us up at the airport and brought us here. Now, we’re gonna commemorate your momma the way she deserves.”

Brooklyn walked over to me. She lay her head on my upper stomach and wrapped her arms around my waist. I returned the hug, making sure to squeeze her tightly.

My mom spoke up. “On today, August ninth, we take time to remember Raquel Ann Green Waverly. Anybody who wants to say a few words about Raquel is welcome to do so. Then we have these flower petals.” She gestured toward the table that was filled with petals of all colors and shapes. “They will be released into the water. We also have bubble guns, if you would rather salute her with bubbles. Finally, I have rice paper and pens here. You can write a message to your beloved Raquel. You can place the paper in the ocean. It will disintegrate, causing no environmental hardship. Who would like to speak?”

“I’ll speak.” Carrington was the first to volunteer. “I met Mrs. Waverly a few times as Brooklyn’s roommate. She was the nicest, coolest person. She would send Brooklyn these over-the-top care packages stuffed with stylish shorty-pajamas, eco-friendly laundry detergent, luxury body wash, hair ties, chocolate from Belgium, and gift cards for Chipotle and Starbucks. I mentioned to her how nice they were and how I was jealous because Brooklyn’s care packages were the best and she started sending them for me, too. I always felt lucky to have a great roommate who also had such a great mom. Mrs. Waverly made a real impression on me. I promised myself that when my future children get to college, I’m going to make sure to include their roommates in the nice things I do for them.” Carrington walked over and pulled Brooklyn into an embrace.

Both of Brooklyn’s grandparents said kind words and shared memories of Raquel Waverly.

Finally, Brooklyn cleared her throat to speak. “Even though this is the first formal memorial gathering for my mom since her funeral, I talk to her all the time. I talk to her when I’m scared, when I’m worried, when I’m sad, when I miss her the most, when I feel helpless, when I feel happy and when I feel… all right. So, I don’t have a speech or anything. She already knows everything. Right now, I’ll just thank her. Thanks Mommy. Thank you for being you and for… everything.” This time as the tears poured from her eyes she leaned on me. I held her close and kissed the big auburn curls on top of her head.

“Okay, so you all can grab handfuls of flower petals, you can grab bubble guns, or you can start writing out your private message for Mrs. Raquel Ann Green Waverly.” Mrs. Field directed her next statement to Brooklyn’s grandfather. “Jessup, are you ready to read the scripture?”

“I am.” Mr. Waverly assured her.

“Once Jessup reads the scripture we’re going to send our items into the ocean in remembrance of a sweet spirit who left this world too soon.”

Brooklyn and I separated ourselves from one another. She selected flower petals. I picked up a piece of the rice paper that had been cut into small squares. On it, I wrote:

Mrs. Waverly,

I hate that we never got a chance to meet one another. I feel like you were probably cool as hell. I don’t usually do corny shit like this, but I have to tell somebody. Right now, you’re the only one I can trust with this.

I think I love your daughter.

I placed it face down in the water while Mr. Waverly read Jeremiah 29:11.

Brooklyn followed me into my office at the community center. Initially, I had no intention of going to work on that day. However, after we’d eaten brunch Brooklyn’s grandparents wanted a nap. Since we had a few hours to kill before we went back to my parents’ house to spend time with them, we stopped by the community center. I offered to take Brooklyn to the crib. She had cried a lot, plus she was on her period. I figured she was exhausted. She begged off going to the house, opting instead to follow me to the community center.

When I heard the lock on the door engage behind me, I knew exactly what type of time my girl was on.

I turned to face her with a grin on my face. “I feel like I’m about to get my dick sucked for putting together the memorial today.”

“And for getting my grandparents here,” she made her way toward me, “and for being so thoughtful.”

She moved past me to my desk, slid the chair out, then reached for my belt.

My eyes ballooned in realization. “Oh shit. Are you ’bout to make my fantasy of you sucking me off while I sit at my desk come true?”

“Sure am. Now, call one of the other coaches in here and talk about inconsequential shit while I do my thing.” She winked an eye at me saucily. “But you’d better not bust.”

Three Weeks Later

My basketball skills and fundamentals camp wrapped up as the children’s summer vacation came to an end and they returned to school. The morning after the program ended, I returned to the community center to make sure that everything was everything.

My cousin Will was with me as I did a final walk-through around the gymnasiums, making sure nothing was left behind. But as soon as we walked through the door, I could see clothing strewn on the bleachers.

“These kids don’t care about nothing,” I commented as I gathered yet more items to add to the lost and found. “I don’t even know how some of them still have clothes at the crib. With as much stuff as they leave here, you think their parents would notice.”

“Man.” He took a chug from his bottle of water. “These parents ain’t engaged with their kids. They’re too busy being engaged with their phones… or their edibles.”

I chuckled because he was telling the truth.

“It was a good program, but damn that was a lot of work,” he commented, “and I can already see some ways we can improve it next year.”

I nodded as I draped a forgotten T-shirt over my shoulder and grabbed an errant basketball. “Say less.”

Will followed me to the closet where we stored the equipment. “So, what’re you gonna do?” he asked as I placed the basketball on the rack.

“About what?” Of course I was fronting. I knew what he was talking about. I had been asked some version of that same question one hundred times a day since the beginning of the month. Everybody wanted to know what I was going to do about my relationship with Brooklyn.

“Bro, don’t do that. You know what I’m talking about. What are you gonna do about baby girl? You know, the one who makes you act all soft? The one who gets all googly-eyed every time she sees you? I’mma tell you what you need to do. You need to slide Carrington some money and go ahead and get in on this wedding with her and Bryce. Have a double wedding and go ’head and marry that girl, because everybody can see y’all are in love.”

“We’ve known each other for less than three months. It’s too soon.”

He side-eyed me and twisted his lips. “Dog, she’s been living with you since your birthday.”

I started to protest.

“Aht aht!” He cut me off. “Don’t lie, motherfucker. Don’t lie. I’m not judging. I’m just saying. She’s been living in your spot, twin. I know y’all are having pillow conversations between fucking. You probably already know about her childhood, about her likes and dislikes. I know you know her favorite color. With all that damn pink she wears, everybody knows her favorite color. You already know how she acts on her period, because you’ve been living with her for over a month now. Do tell me you don’t know her. What the hell else is there to know? Two months really don’t mean shit when you’re with a person every damn day. Y’all just put the relationship on fast forward.”

I couldn’t believe that Will was making sense. I heaved out a heavy sigh. “Yo, I like this girl.”

“No shit.”

“I mean, I really like her. I would take her back to Chicago with me in a minute. I mean, just tuck her little ass right inside my suitcase and stash her at my crib. Do you know how much stress it would relieve if after a fucked-up practice or a loss, I knew I was going home to her? But my world on Jackson Island is one hundred and eighty degrees different from my life in Chicago.”

He cocked his head to the side and bugged out his eyes. “Nigga, ain’t she from Chicago? You think she can’t figure out how to make a life for herself outside of you in her hometown? Dog, be easy. You’re overthinking this.”

“If she wants to come back to Chicago with me… I’m open to that,” I admitted for the first time. I didn’t know why I was being so transparent with Will. Probably because he was so vulnerable and hurt about the loss of his child and his girl. I knew he wouldn’t give me hell about sharing my thoughts and feelings. “I don’t think she does, though. Every time we talk about our future, she’s… hesitant. She says she needs to make sure that she didn’t trade her dependency on the last dude for a dependency on me.”

He was silent for a few moments, contemplating. “Do you feel like she’s trying to slide you into dude’s place?”

“Not at all. But it doesn’t really matter what I think or feel if she doesn’t trust herself. She needs to trust herself. I’m not about to rush her or force her to do it.

“So…” he dragged the word out, “you willing to live without her?”

“Ay.” Brooklyn and I were seated side by side at the kitchen island, eating some type of jerk chicken salad she made. As soon as we finished eating, the plan was that we would head to the deck to watch the sunset. “I was hanging out with Will today. He said something profound.”

She smiled as she glanced over at me. “Will said something profound? That’s cool. Do tell.”

“He said that if I leave you here on Jackson Island while I go back to Chicago, then I need to be willing to live without you.”

She finished chewing the bite of food that was in her mouth and washed everything down with water. “Not necessarily—”

I cut her off. “Are you willing to live without me, Brooklyn? Because on my mama, I don’t know if I can say the same.”

“Cameron,” her voice caught in her throat, “it’s not that I wanna live without you. I wanna be with you every minute of the day. We’ve had this conversation. Before we get any deeper, I just think we should make sure that we’re not jumping without a net. We’ve only been doing this for a few months.”

“How much longer do you need, baby? You willing to have me sick as shit to prove that our feelings are real? Make it make sense.” Subconsciously, I entered her personal space. Before I knew it, her jaw was in my hand. “You’re my person, Brooklyn and I don’t say that shit lightly. You’re my person. You’re who I want. Why do I need to be away from you to prove that? How is me being away from you gonna prove that?”

“What do you want me to do, Cameron?” She moved back so that my fingers fell off her face. “What do you want me to do? Pack up my stuff and move to Chicago with you? I packed up my stuff and moved for my last guy. We both know where that got me.”

“I’m not that nigga.”

“You’re not, but I’m the same Brooklyn. I’m the same Brooklyn who gave up agency over myself to be connected with somebody who claimed that they loved me and saw a future with me, because I suffer from complex PTSD. I cling to people because I don’t want to be alone. I can’t do that to us. I won’t do that to you. I need to make sure what we have is pure.”

“You don’t know that?”

“I know that, but at the same time… I need to know that. I have to be sure.”

I turned to walk away. I wasn’t the type to keep going around and around in circles if the situation wasn’t going to get figured out. And the situation clearly wasn’t going to get figured out.

She grabbed my arm. When I turned to look at her, I saw the tears pooling in her eyes.

I brought her into my arms and held her. “I’m not mad at you, Brook. I’m mad at the situation. I’m mad that I know giving you this… time apart is right, because it’s what you say you need. But I don’t wanna give it to you. I don’t wanna give you space. It’s selfish, but I don’t wanna give you space away from me.”

“I don’t want to want space away from you, Cameron. I’m so fucked up that I’m fucking up the best relationship I’ve ever had. A gorgeous, sweet, successful, giving, affectionate man wants to live in my skin. I’m pushing him away because my brain tells me fucked up shit that seems logical.” She sighed.

“Then let’s just do long-distance until you figure it out.” I took her face in my hands and kissed her softly on the lips. “You can stay here on the island and whenever I can get away—on off days and breaks—I’ll come home. Stay here in the house. On breaks I can come home to you. I want to come home to you, Brook.”

The love making was soft and sweet that night. I was gentle with my baby as I tried to show her physically what my words weren’t able to express verbally. She cried while I loved on her. My eyes watered a little bit too.