Chapter 17
Sasha
Mornin’,” I said to Mya as I entered the kitchen. Vuitton hopped off the couch to greet me.
She sat at the island, scrolling through her phone. “Hey.”
She looked a little uneasy. I guess us having an argument in front of her would put her in a little bit of an awkward position,
especially after what I’d said. It’s not that I had any ill will toward Mya or how Courtney took care of her. The way Courtney
cared for her sister was truly admirable, and one of the things I loved about her. She was deeply loyal to the people around
her; I just wished that her attention wasn’t always so divided.
The overcast day fit my mood and helped my head because I couldn’t deal with too much brightness. It was taking every-thing
in me not to turn off the lights Mya had on. I didn’t have a full marching band going off, but the drumline beating a steady
rhythm was enough.
“You need me to fix you somethin’ to eat?”
She shook her head. “No, I made a bagel and had some orange juice.”
“Okay, I should feed you then, boy.”
“Oh, I already did.”
“And he ate?”
“Yeah.” She stretched out the word. “Was I not supposed to? He was whining, and I didn’t know when y’all would be up, so—”
I bent to pick up Vuitton, snuggling him close. Was I losing him too? “No, no. It’s fine. Thank you. He just usually only
eats if I’m down here. It just means he really loves his Auntie Mya.” I smiled at her and she returned it with an awkward
one of her own.
There was an awkward silence hanging in the air. Mya and I didn’t always have to talk, but this felt different. Tense. After
washing my hands, I went about fixing my breakfast while trying to work up the courage to clear the air. Mya was family, mine
and Courtney’s, and for my words to have implied she wasn’t despite that never being my intention was shitty.
“Have you seen your sister?” I asked as I put an English muffin in the toaster.
Courtney was gone when I’d woken. I hadn’t even heard her get out of bed. Though I was surprised she’d actually slept in our
room since she’d walked away like normal when she was done with a conversation, leaving me sitting on the couch. She’d been
fast asleep, back to me, by the time I’d trudged upstairs.
She nodded. “Yeah, she left. She said she was gonna go work out and that she’d be back later to get me to school.”
“Oh. Um, what time is your flight?”
Mya made eye contact with me for the first time. “Uhh, Courtney said we’re driving.”
Her answer surprised me. “Really? Drivin’?”
Last time Courtney drove to Tallahassee she said she’d never do it again.
We’d driven down there to move Mya in her freshman year.
Courtney had complained because the drive was ridiculous with the lack of direct interstate access without adding extensive time to the trip.
She was over all the small state routes we needed to take and had vowed to never do it again.
So for her to be driving, she really wanted away from me.
To leave me. Again. “Do you know how much that guts me? To not have your wife acknowledge the biggest moment of your career?” Some things were fuzzy and a lot of words were exchanged between us last night, but those were clear as fucking day, as was
the same pained expression she’d had the night she walked out on me.
Why was it so hard to admit a fuckup? To stop digging the hole? Because it was always more important to prove my point. That
was why we were even fighting to begin with, her reaction had pissed me off when all I was trying to do was help.
Mya stood and gathered up her dishes. The action pulled my attention and kept me from spiraling too much.
“Yeah, that’s what she said.” She rinsed the plate and glass before putting both in the dishwasher. “I’m gonna get outta your
way and get dressed and pack up.”
“Mya.”
“Yeah?”
I pulled the OJ and champagne from the fridge and set both on the counter along with the butter and strawberry jam. “Look . . .
I just wanted to—” I blew out a breath. “I just wanted . . . I didn’t want you to think . . . to feel like—”
She frowned at me, arms crossed as I stumbled over my words. She looked too much like her sister in that moment, standing
in judgment. I shifted my attention to opening the champagne as I worked to get what I was trying to say straight.
“Look, what I said, what came out in the heat of the moment, I never wanted . . . I never meant to imply that you, or takin’
care of you was an issue. It’s not.”
She shrugged and shook her head. “It’s all good.”
I filled the champagne flute. “No, it’s not. I shouldn’t have. You and your sister are close, and I know she loves you and
wants only the best for you. We both do. You are family, Mya. Our family. Okay.”
She shrugged again. “It’s cool, really. No big deal.”
I rounded the island to stand in front of her, suddenly desperate to fix what I’d broken with her. I took both her hands into
mine, squeezing them together. “It is. Mya. Please hear me. This mouth can be reckless, but never directed at you.”
Eventually, a smile cracked the facade, and I instantly felt twenty pounds lighter even before she wrapped her arms around
my neck. It was a small win, but I was taking what I could get. Mya was the easier sister. I had no clue how to fix what was
broken with Courtney.
“I love you both,” Mya said, pulling away. “But . . .”
“But what?” I encouraged her to continue as I completed fixing my muffin. It wouldn’t be as warm, but I still needed the carbs.
“I try not to get in the middle of y’all’s business, so I won’t comment on whatever y’all have or don’t have going on with
the fertility clinic situation. I will say my sister’s not perfect, but I do know she works hard. She always has. She’s been
basically taking care of me my whole life. And now she puts that same energy into you. Courtney has always busted her ass
to do what she needs to do to make sure everyone else is taken care of. She’s a doer. That’s how she shows up.”
She gnawed on her lip and shifted her weight from side to side.
“Anyway, hearing y’all . . . I guess that sometimes I’ve forgotten how much she does for me. And, well . . . she has a lot
on her shoulders, Sasha, but like I said, it’s not my business.”
Mya gave me a slight nod then started to walk off, but stopped.
“One more thing. I see your point too. Courtney does work a lot. She’s gone often, but she does it for you.
For us. Do you think she likes missing holidays and things like that because she’s always working?
I’d like to think she’d rather be home.”
She paused for a moment as if giving time for her words to sink in. “I get being lonely and wanting to hang out with her.
I’ve been there. There were times when we were kids, she’d be out doing whatever part-time gig, and I’d be home by myself.
I mean, our folks would be there, but they didn’t count,” she said with an eye roll. “I mean, I hate to say I’m kind of glad
she couldn’t go overseas this season. I like that I got to see her for the holidays. Don’t get me wrong, I’m thankful you’ve
let me crash your family get-togethers, but it was nice having Courtney around this year.”
“It was. And I’m lookin’ forward to Christmas, and decoratin’, and havin’ you both here.”
“It’ll be a good time.” Mya headed upstairs, then turned back. “Last thing. Courtney is my big sister so I’m always going
to be protective of her. But you’re also my sister, and I’ve gotten used to having one that I can go get my nails done with.
And talk makeup, and hair. So, y’all need to put your big-girl panties on and figure your shit out.” She darted up the stairs
before I could say anything.
It wasn’t a conversation I’d expected to have, but it didn’t surprise me Mya had stuck up for her sister. The two were close.
But she also had the misfortune of sort of being in my shoes with wanting Courtney’s attention. It wasn’t a club of one as
I’d thought. A unique outside—but not really—looking in perspective.
I picked up my drink then strolled over to curl up on the couch.
Vuitton waited until I was settled before moving over to snuggle beside me.
I started to take a sip, but paused as Courtney’s hurtful words replayed in my head.
I’d said plenty of out-of-pocket stuff, mainly because lashing out to hurt before I got hurt was the way I rolled.
She usually tried to keep the more level head.
Sure, in the heat of things she’d made a dig or two, it was to be expected, but the comment about giving our hypothetical baby alcohol .
. . did she truly think I was that irresponsible?
She hadn’t apologized or tried to walk it back.
I looked at the champagne flute, scraping my tongue along the bottom of my teeth, the desire to finish my mimosa drained away.
Instead, I picked up my dog and held him close. “You don’t think I’d be a bad momma, do you, boy?”
He responded by positioning himself for belly rubs. She didn’t really think I’d be a bad mom, did she?
I stroked Vuitton’s silky fur and tried to calm my worries. How could a person claim they loved you, but in the same breath
say they wouldn’t want to raise a family with you because they didn’t trust you as a parent? The two were in conflict.
I pressed the heels of my palms to my eyes and groaned. Mya said Courtney was a doer and Courtney was good for listing off
all the things she provided. And even better at shutting down conversations when she was tired of them.
“It works both ways.” The last thing she said to me last night before she left me sitting alone. Was I being unreasonable to want more than what
she was giving? To want my wife to actually be around?
I needed a distraction. Tanisha and Denise had been on my case about the lack of girl time lately. I set Vuitton next to me
then pulled out my phone to fire off a text to my group chat.
“It’s been a minute since you invited us over,” Denise said as she plopped her bag on the island, then crossed her arms, giving
me an accusatory look.
“It’s nothin’ personal.”