Page 89 of Bring You Back

“You can have mine,” I say.

She smiles like I’ve made a joke, then turns somber. “I got a ‘That’s great, babe’ from my mom and a pat on the cheek as she walked out the door.”

“This is for you and Camille,” Naomi tells her with a hand glide down her back, backing up my statement, and Reyna gives her an appreciative smile that makes me roll my eyes.Yes, just forget I gave this “party” to you.

Naomi doesn’talwaysassociate Reyna with Valerie. She did when she first met her, and has since grown to know and care about her. But, old habits. Reyna is the smarter, kinder version of her mother, but she still sounds and looks the part. When you’re with her, you see mini Valerie. And I know, deep down, that Reyna isn’t the girl Naomi would pick for her son.

Banks leans, his stare drawing to Reyna’s ass. Tommy, who’s coming around behind him, notices, too, and flicks the back of his head as he passes him.

“Ow!” Banks’s hands fly to his head, pat at his hair.

I laugh. “Want a pacifier to go with that wah?”

Reyna scoffs at Banks as realization dawns and he winks at her. She eyes Julian who’s setting out the drinks Naomi poured, silent, head down like he’s trying to be invisible. Impossible for an elephant.

“Where are you?” she asks him, and he doesn’t respond. He’s all looks and no words. His eyes find his mom as she places the cake in the center of the table—his stare open, mouth tight, guarded—then they slip down to the plate in front of him. I’m assuming the last time the two sat around this table together was with Brent, before the news broke.

“Julian?” Reyna probes, and still, he says nothing. These two must have had a good week. There’s an edge to her voice when she says, “Did you hear me?”

“I’m not deaf, Reyna,” Julian snaps at her, and Reyna’s head snaps back like she’s been slapped.

“Hey.”

Julian’s eyes cut to Tommy at the scolding, their brief stare-down ending with a sigh from Julian.

“Sorry,” he says to the table, then looks at Reyna who manages a small smile. “I’mhere.”

We all start to take our seats, but I stop when I realize I forgot my spoon. I stop again when Julian’s hand reaches across the table and sets a spoon right beside my plate. My eyes snap up to his, and he holds them a moment before pulling away to take his seat.

I always eat cake with a spoon. It’s easier to catch all the crumbs.

I smile, let it warm me, and I don’t care if he sees. I hope he does.

Our seating arrangement hasn’t changed, either. Naomi sits at her end. To her right follows Julian, then Reyna. To her left follows Tommy, then me. The difference is Banks who, because he has no brain, has decided to take the other end of the table—Brent’s seat. It’s not necessarily Brent’s seat anymore, but Banks of all people should not be in it.

No one disputes, but I feel the need to say something. So I say it with my boot.

“Ow!”

“What’s your problem?” I ask, feigning innocence as four other sets of eyes land on him. “The dreaded table monster get you?”

“Yeah, one namedCamille,” he says, hard eyes on me as he reaches down to rub his leg.

I catch Julian and Tommy exchange a look, but it happens so quickly that I lose time to decipher it.

“Hey, you said it right,” Reyna teases Banks.

He shoots her a grin and leans in. “What do I get for it?”

She laughs and cuts the first slice of cake. “A big piece of cake.”

And it is. Reyna plops the too generous chunk onto Banks’s waiting plate, under his wide, waiting stare, and I shoot her a look.What the hell?

She answers with anI’m sorryheadshake and a shrug.

Banks shovels a bite, as do the rest of us once we each have a slice. We’re all silent, with the exception of food noises, the fact that we’re all together around this table—sober—with slightly new dynamics and changed histories has got our tongues.

I eye my cat. She’s watching us eat from her spot on the table beside the door, neck craned, being a nosy, good girl.

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