CHAPTER 7
What Respect Sounds Like
The community entrepreneurship dinner had been Safiya's idea.
That fact became important later.
Solomon had spent weeks preparing for it. Not because he was giving a speech or pitching onstage. He simply wanted to be in the room.
People building things.
People who understood ownership.
People who did not look at ambition like a hobby you were supposed to outgrow when bills got serious.
Safiya had found the event, sent him the link, and told him he was going.
"I don't network," Solomon said.
"You talk to strangers everywhere."
"That's different."
"How?"
"I don't call it networking."
Safiya stared at him.
"So if I rename it 'standing around eating tiny food while talking about money,' you'll go?"
"Maybe."
She bought the tickets.
Now, standing in front of the mirror, Safiya was beginning to regret every decision that had brought her here.
"I look like somebody's auntie."
Solomon looked up from his phone.
"You look good."
"That's not specific enough."
"What you want me to say?"
"I don't know. Something convincing."
He put the phone down.
"You look beautiful."
Safiya paused.
"Better."
"Come on."
She smiled and grabbed her bag.
* * *
The dinner went well.
That was what made the mistake so irritating.
Solomon was good in rooms like that once he stopped pretending he hated them.
He listened more than he spoke. Asked direct questions. Remembered names. Did not perform expertise he did not have.
Safiya watched him from across the room while talking to a woman who owned a small consulting company.
There was something deeply attractive about seeing somebody you loved become more himself.
Not louder.
More certain.
Later, a small group gathered around Solomon while he described one of the ideas he had been researching.
Safiya joined them.
A man asked how long Solomon had been working on it.
Solomon answered.
Then somebody said, "You seem disciplined. That's rare."
Safiya laughed.
It was automatic.
"Don't let him fool you. I have to remind him about half the stuff he says he's gonna do."
The group laughed.
Solomon smiled.
But Safiya knew his smiles.
This one stopped before it reached his eyes.
Her stomach tightened.
The conversation moved on.
She did not.
For the rest of the evening, Safiya noticed everything.
The way Solomon became slightly quieter.
The way he still introduced her proudly.
The way he did not embarrass her back.
The way he waited until they were in the car.
He started the engine.
Safiya buckled her seat belt.
They pulled out of the parking lot.
One block.
Two.
Three.
Finally Safiya said, "You mad?"
"I'm thinking."
"You think loud."
Solomon glanced at her. "What does that even mean?"
"It means your silence got an attitude."
His mouth moved like he almost smiled.
Almost.
Safiya looked out the window.
"I know what this is about."
"Then why ask?"
"Because I want you to say it."
Solomon drove another block.
"That joke."
Safiya nodded.
"I shouldn't have said it."
He looked at her briefly.
That was not the response he expected.
Safiya continued.
"I saw your face."
"Then why you ain't say nothing?"
"Because we were in the room."
"Exactly."
She swallowed.
"I thought it was harmless when I said it."
"It wasn't."
"I know."
Solomon's hands stayed steady on the wheel.
Safiya could feel herself wanting to explain.
I was proud of you.
I found the event.
I bought the tickets.
I helped you research.
Everybody knew I was joking.
All of it could be true and still miss the point.
She breathed.
"What did it feel like?"
Solomon was quiet.
Safiya waited.
Finally he said, "Like you made me small in a room where I was trying to be taken seriously."
The words landed cleanly.
No yelling.
No insult.
Safiya looked down.
"I'm sorry."
Solomon exhaled.
"I know you ain't mean it like that."
"I still did it."
He glanced at her.
Safiya's eyes burned.
She hated crying during accountability. It made her feel like the conversation could accidentally become about comforting her.
So she looked out the window and let the feeling stay hers.
"I'm proud of you," she said.
"I know."
"I need you to know that."
"I do."
They drove in silence.
This silence felt different.
Not punishment.
Processing.
Then Solomon said, "I should've told you sooner."
Safiya looked at him.
"You told me like fifteen minutes later."
"I mean other stuff."
Her stomach tightened.
"What other stuff?"
Solomon rubbed his thumb across the steering wheel.
"I've been irritated."
"With me?"
"With everything."
Safiya waited.
"Work. School. Family. Everybody calling. Everybody needing something. Then I come to you and sometimes I feel like I'm walking into another problem I gotta solve."
That hurt.
Safiya made herself keep listening.
Solomon continued.
"Not all the time."
"Okay."
"And I know some of that is me. I made myself available."
"Yes."
He gave her a look.
Safiya lifted both hands. "I'm listening."
"You're agreeing aggressively."
"Sorry."
That finally got a small laugh.
The tension shifted.
Safiya looked at him.
"I need to tell you something too."
"Go ahead."
"I've been trying so hard not to be another person pulling on you that I stopped saying what I needed."
Solomon's face changed.
Safiya kept going.
"Then I got resentful because you didn't notice."
He was quiet.
"I don't want to be a problem you solve."
"You not."
"Sometimes I feel like I have to become one before I get your full attention."
That sentence stayed between them.
Solomon did not defend himself immediately.
Safiya appreciated him for that.
At a red light he looked over.
"What you mean?"
"I mean I don't need to be first every second. Your boys are your boys. Work is work. Life happens."
He nodded.
"But I don't want our relationship living on leftovers."
The light changed.
Solomon drove.
Safiya stared at the road ahead.
"I don't want to keep waiting until I'm hurt enough to say something."
"Then don't."
"I know."
"And I don't want you thinking you gotta compete with my kids."
"I don't."
"I know. I'm saying it."
Safiya nodded.
"And Zahra?"
Solomon asked.
Safiya thought before answering.
"I don't want to compete with her either."
"You shouldn't."
"I know."
"Then what do you want?"
There it was.
The question she had made complicated for weeks.
"Privacy."
Solomon nodded slowly.
"Protected time."
Another nod.
"And I don't want to find out regular things about you through somebody else."
"Fair."
Safiya looked at him.
"That's it?"
"What you want me to do, argue with fair?"
She laughed.
"No."
"Okay then."
Safiya shook her head.
"I hate how easy you make things after I've suffered dramatically for three weeks."
"That's a you problem."
"See? This is why I almost didn't apologize."
Solomon laughed.
The car felt warmer.
Not fixed.
But honest.
* * *
They stopped for food before going home.
Nothing romantic.
A drive-through with bad lighting and fries that were somehow both too salty and not salty enough.
Solomon parked.
Safiya stole one from his bag.
"You got your own."
"Yours taste better."
"They came from the same place."
"That's not relevant."
He moved the bag away.
Safiya reached across him.
"Stop."
"Give me one."
"You got a whole bag."
"I want yours."
Solomon looked at her.
Safiya froze.
Then both started laughing.
The sentence was too close to the entire problem.
Safiya sat back.
"Okay. That's funny."
"Very."
She ate her own fries.
For several minutes they talked about the dinner.
Not the joke.
The people.
The ideas.
The woman Safiya had met.
The man Solomon wanted to follow up with.
Safiya watched his energy return.
That mattered.
She had not destroyed the night.
She had hurt him.
They had addressed it.
Those were different things.
Before they left, Safiya said, "I need one more thing."
Solomon looked suspicious.
"What?"
"If something I do embarrasses you, tell me."
"I did."
"I mean before you build a whole courtroom in your head."
He smiled.
"Same for you."
Safiya sighed.
"I knew there was gonna be a condition."
"Same for you."
"Fine."
"No 'it's fine' when it ain't fine."
Safiya stared at him.
"You're doing too much now."
"Say it."
"Fine."
Solomon lifted an eyebrow.
Safiya laughed.
"Okay. No fake fine."
"Good."
They shook on it because they were ridiculous.
* * *
The next morning, Safiya called Zahra after Fajr.
Not to report the argument.
That was new.
Zahra answered sounding half asleep.
"Somebody better be dying."
"Nobody is dying."
"Then why are you calling me at this hour?"
"You have a child. You've been awake since 2009."
"Goodbye."
Safiya laughed.
"Wait."
"What?"
"You wanna get breakfast later?"
"With who?"
"Me."
A pause.
"Just you?"
Safiya smiled.
"Just me."
"Okay."
They met at a small breakfast place after Zahra dropped Layla off.
Safiya told her about the entrepreneurship dinner.
The room.
The people.
The woman with the consulting company.
She did not tell Zahra what Solomon said in the car.
She did not tell her the exact joke.
She did not tell her how his face looked.
Zahra noticed.
"You being mysterious?"
"No."
"You usually would've told me every word by now."
Safiya stirred her coffee.
"I think some things can stay between me and him."
Zahra studied her.
Then nodded.
"Okay."
Safiya smiled.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"No, what?"
"I thought you were gonna feel some type of way."
"About not knowing your argument?"
"When you say it like that, it sounds stupid."
"It is a little stupid."
Safiya threw a sugar packet at her.
Zahra laughed.
Then her expression softened.
"I don't need to know everything to be your friend."
Safiya looked at her.
"I know."
"Do you?"
"I think I'm learning."
They ate.
Talked about Zahra's housing.
Layla.
Safiya's job.
A ridiculous video Zahra had seen.
The friendship did not collapse because Solomon was not discussed.
That felt important too.
* * *
Over the next week, Safiya and Solomon practiced the new rules badly.
That was more realistic.
On Tuesday, Solomon forgot they had planned a call.
Safiya waited twenty-three minutes.
Old resentment began warming up.
Then she texted:
We still talking tonight?
Solomon called immediately.
"My bad."
"You forgot."
"I did."