Page 33 of Can't Get Enough

Me:Yesssss. Black folks are there too. Naked and unashamed and steamy and eating sushi.

I’m actually not too sure about the Black-to-other-folks ratio, but I just love pushing Soledad beyond her comfort zone because hilarity always ensues. I’ll sit around naked for it just to outlast her.

Soledad:I’m not sure how I feel about my sushi that close to somebody’s bare ass.

Yasmen:They’re not preparing the food naked! Okay. I’m down!

I’m actually low-key shocked that Yasmen is going along with this.

Me:I dare you, Sol.

Soledad:That’s not fair. You know I’m too competitive to let that go. I can’t stand y’all. OKAY!!! I’ll give it a try, but if I feel uncomfortable, I’m wearing a towel and nobody better take it from me.

Yasmen:Deal

Me:Deal… I guess, but watch your back ’cause I might snatch. hehehe

After a long soak in bubble bath and oil that costs so much it borders on immoral, I’ve just put on silk pajamas and slipped between my satin sheets when the phone rings. I reach over to grab it, sitting up straight when I see the caller.

“Aunt Geneva?” I reach to turn the bedside lamp back on. “Hey. Everything all right?”

“We’re fine,” she says. “How are you? How was Miami?”

“It was good. Business, but fun, too. I’m sorry Saturday night was rough. I’ll get home soon. There’s just so much stuff I have to be here for this month. I need to be on set for a couple of my clients and—”

“Hen, it’s fine. I didn’t call to make you feel guilty or put no pressure on you. Your mama’s good. Already asleep for the night. Adding that magnesium like you suggested has helped a lot.”

“Oh, good. I got in late, but I’ll FaceTime early enough tomorrow to catch her before she turns in.”

“That’ll be nice,” she says and then clears her throat. “I did need to talk to you about something.”

My body goes on high alert. All the lassitude from my wine and hot bath coils into anxiety that starts in my belly and fans out across all myextremities. I tuck the silky duvet under my arms and lean forward in bed. “What’s up, Aunt G?”

“I’m having a hysterectomy.”

It’s the last thing I was expecting her to say, and it lands on me and sinks in for a few seconds before I respond. A woman Aunt Geneva’s age doesn’t have much use for reproductive organs, but it’s still a major surgery.

“Oh, wow.” I frown. “Are you okay? When is the surgery?”

“Later this summer. They’re backed up and that’s the soonest I can get in, but I wanted to let you know far in advance because I’ll be on bedrest for a few weeks and won’t be able to adequately monitor Betty. She has a few doctor’s appointments that fall during my recovery time. We could bring in a nurse—”

“I’ll come home.” The words are out before I have time to think about what it will take to be away from Atlanta for weeks or what I’ll have to rearrange. Most of the time I feel so helpless, unsure what I can do to make life easier for both of them. This feels tangible and necessary. They need me and I’ll be there.

“You sure?” Despite what Aunt Geneva actually says, she sounds relieved.

“Of course. I’ll come take care of Mama and you, too.”

“You ain’t gotta take care of me, honey.”

“Yeah, I do. Unless Ellie’s coming from Costa Rica?”

“Naw.” Aunt Geneva makes a scoffing noise that manages to sound affectionate. “Not with them babies and the bar. It’s too much.”

Between two kids under the age of four, and the bar she and her husband own and operate, it’s hard for my cousin Ellie to get home, but Aunt Geneva makes sure to see her grandkids a few times a year.

“Don’t worry about a thing,” I tell her. “I got you.”

“If you have questions about something or need anything for your mama, I’ll be around, just off my feet. And they’ll arrange a meal train at the church for me, I’m sure, so you won’t have to worry about food.”

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