CHAPTER TWO
By the next afternoon, Grandma’s house no longer felt quiet.
Bee had barely finished unpacking her suitcase when the first cousin arrived.
An auntie followed with two covered dishes.
Another cousin came through the front door without knocking.
A greeting rang through the house before the cousin asked where Bee was.
Within an hour, familiar voices filled the living room. Laughter drifted between the kitchen and porch. Bee sat on the couch with both hands wrapped around a glass of iced tea. Everyone moved through the house as if she had only been gone for a weekend.
Maya dropped onto the couch hard enough to make Bee bounce. She looked Bee over from head to toe with an expression that made Bee suspicious. Maya had always studied people before deciding whether to be nice or make their lives difficult for entertainment. Her smile widened as she looked at Bee.
“So you really came back,” Maya said.
Bee laughed and turned toward her. “I told you I was coming back.”
“You said that six months ago,” Maya replied.
“I was busy,” Bee said.
“Making videos?” Maya asked.
“Working,” Bee said.
Maya gave her a look. “That’s not an answer.”
Bee shook her head as a smile slipped across her face. “Yes. I was making videos.”
Maya leaned back against the couch and looked around the room. “Are you going to film everything now?”
Bee glanced toward the phone beside her. “Not everything.”
“You filmed yourself packing,” Maya reminded her.
“That was a moving vlog,” Bee replied.
“You filmed your empty apartment,” Maya said.
“It was part of the vlog,” Bee replied.
“You filmed yourself driving,” Maya added.
Bee laughed. “People like seeing the process.”
Maya looked toward the kitchen. Grandma was moving between the counter and stove. “Grandma, Bee thinks people want to watch her drive.”
Grandma did not turn around. “People watch many things they shouldn’t.”
The room erupted in laughter. Bee covered her face with one hand while Maya leaned against her shoulder.
“See?” Maya said. “Even Grandma thinks your videos are ridiculous.”
“I didn’t say that,” Grandma replied.
Bee lowered her hand and smiled. “Thank you.”
Grandma finally glanced toward them. “I said people watch many things they shouldn’t.”
Maya pointed at Bee. “That was worse.”
Bee laughed with them. The awkwardness she had expected began to loosen. Nobody treated her like the person from the internet. Nobody cared how many followers she had or which brands had emailed her that week. Maya was still Maya. Grandma could still embarrass her without even trying.
Her auntie came into the living room with a plate of food and placed it on the coffee table. She studied Bee for a moment before touching her cheek.
“You look different,” her auntie said.
“Everyone keeps saying that,” Bee said.
“You do,” her auntie insisted.
Bee tilted her head. “Different good or different bad?”
“Different grown,” her auntie said.
Maya shook her head. “No. She looks like an urban Native.”
Bee looked at Maya. “What does an urban Native look like?”
“Like you’re about to tell me how much your apartment cost,” Maya replied.
“I’m not like that,” Bee said.
“You’ve got a ring light,” Maya said.
“That doesn’t mean anything,” Bee replied.
“You own three cameras and the newest phone,” Maya added.
“They’re for work,” Bee said.
“You’ve got a little microphone,” Maya continued.
“You’re never going to let this go, are you?” Bee asked.
“Absolutely not,” Maya said.
Her auntie laughed as she sat across from them. “Leave her alone. She just got home.”
Maya nodded with a serious expression. “I’m welcoming her.”
“This is your version of welcoming me?” Bee asked.
“This is how you know you’re loved,” Maya replied.
Bee smiled because Maya was right. The teasing did not make her feel like an outsider. It reminded her that these people still knew exactly how to make fun of her.
More family arrived as the afternoon passed.
Each person seemed to carry another memory through the door.
One cousin reminded Bee about the time she had fallen into the irrigation ditch while trying to jump across it.
Another brought up the summer when Bee and Maya convinced the younger kids that Grandma could hear everything they said through the walls.
“You two weren’t fooling anybody,” Grandma said from the kitchen.
Maya looked at Grandma. “You didn’t see everything.”
“You two were loud,” Grandma replied.
Bee laughed. “That’s true.”
“You woke up half the house,” Grandma added.
“We were children,” Maya argued.
“You were old enough to know better,” Grandma replied.
Maya smiled. “You still let us stay.”
Grandma stopped what she was doing and looked at them. “Where else would you go?”
Bee’s smile softened. Grandma said it so simply that nobody else seemed to notice the weight of it. Bee did.
Maya reached for Bee’s phone on the coffee table. She looked at the screen before Bee could stop her.
“How many followers do you have now?” Maya asked.
Bee reached for the phone. “Why are you looking at my phone?”
“I’m curious,” Maya replied.
“You’re nosy,” Bee corrected.
Maya smiled. “That too.”
Bee took the phone from her and glanced at the number. “Enough.”
Maya stared at her. “Enough?”
“Yes,” Bee replied.
“That’s not a number,” Maya said.
“It’s enough of a number,” Bee insisted.
Maya shook her head. “You used to be normal.”
“I’m still normal,” Bee replied.
“You just said ‘enough’ instead of telling me,” Maya pointed out.
Bee laughed. “I knew you were going to make fun of me.”
“Of course I am,” Maya replied.
Bee looked at the number for another moment before locking the screen. “It changes all the time anyway.”
Maya watched her expression. “Do you like having that many people watching you?”
Bee hesitated. “Most of the time.”
The teasing disappeared from Maya’s face. “What about the rest of the time?”
Bee looked down at her hands. “Sometimes it feels exhausting.”
Maya leaned back against the couch without interrupting. She waited for Bee to explain.
“People think they know you,” Bee said. “They watch your videos. They know what you eat and what you like. Then they start thinking they know everything about you. Sometimes they’re right. Sometimes they’re completely wrong.”
Maya nodded slowly. “That sounds annoying.”
“It can be,” Bee admitted.
“Why keep doing it?” Maya asked.
Bee thought about the question before smiling faintly. “Because I like it too.”
Maya considered that for a moment. “That makes sense.”
Bee smiled at Maya. She could say both things without having to choose between them. She loved what she did. Loving it did not make every part easy.
By late afternoon, the kitchen had become the busiest room in the house. Someone made coffee while another person wrapped leftovers. Grandma kept telling everyone there was enough food for the next three days. Nobody had asked her.
Bee stood near the counter and stacked containers. Maya came up behind her and nudged her shoulder.
“You remember where everything is?” Maya asked.
Bee looked around. “Mostly.”
“Mostly?” Maya repeated.
“I’ve been gone,” Bee reminded her.
Maya opened a cabinet and pointed inside. “You used to know where every snack in this house was.”
Bee laughed. “I still do.”
Maya reached behind a few cans and pulled out a bag of chips. “Then what are these?”
Bee stared at the bag. “I don’t know.”
Maya looked toward Grandma. “She’s officially not from here anymore.”
Grandma shook her head. “She missed one bag of chips. Calm down.”
Bee smiled at Grandma. “Exactly.”
“You still need to learn where everything is,” Maya said. “People ask questions when you make videos about coming home.”
Bee looked at her. “That’s what I want.”
Maya lowered the bag of chips. “What?”
“I want to show people home,” Bee explained.
Maya studied her expression. “What do you mean?”
“I want to show people what it’s actually like here,” Bee said. “I don’t want to film only the things that look pretty. I want to show the food and the roads. I want to show the family stuff. I want to show ordinary things.”
Maya smiled. “Grandma’s going to love that.”
Grandma looked over from the stove. “No, she’s not.”
Bee laughed. “Why not?”
“I don’t want a camera in my face while I’m cooking,” Grandma replied.
“I wouldn’t do that,” Bee said.
Grandma gave her a flat look. “I’ve met you.”
“I promise I’ll ask,” Bee said.
Grandma gave her a look that made Bee laugh. Maya leaned closer to Bee and lowered her voice. “You want to film her.”
“I’m not,” Bee replied.
“You absolutely do,” Maya insisted.
“I’m not,” Bee repeated.
Grandma pointed a wooden spoon toward both of them. “Neither of you better start.”
Bee and Maya laughed. Bee understood the warning beneath Grandma’s sass. Being home did not put Grandma’s life on camera. Permission mattered. Some moments belonged only to the family.
Dinner was louder than the afternoon. Plates covered the table while people squeezed into every available chair.
Several conversations happened at once. Bee barely took a bite before someone asked about the city.
Someone else asked whether she was staying permanently.
Another cousin wanted to know if she had met any celebrities through her work.
Bee answered as best she could. She laughed whenever the questions became too ridiculous.
Her auntie leaned across the table. “Are you staying?”
Bee paused with her fork halfway to her plate. “I haven’t decided.”
Maya looked at her. “You don’t know?”
“I just got here,” Bee replied.
“You’ve been here since yesterday,” Maya said.
“That’s not enough time,” Bee told her.
Her auntie smiled. “She’s right.”
Maya leaned back in her chair. “I just want to know if you’re staying long enough for us to catch up.”
Bee smiled at Maya. “You could’ve called me.”
“I did,” Maya replied. “You were always busy being important.”
Bee rolled her eyes. “I’m not important.”
Maya looked around the table. “Did everybody hear that?”
A few people laughed. Bee shook her head while Maya grinned across the table.
“People wait for you to post,” Maya said.