Page 17 of Desperate Times

"Okay, if you want to pass on her whole fried catfish, spaghetti, and Caesar salad with homemade dressing, that's cool.” He grinned with a smug look. He knew her catfish was my favorite meal. He taunted me, he and I both knew it. “I’ll tell her not to make the garlic rolls, too.”

“Oh my God, she’s making the garlic rolls, too?!” Jah picked up his phone and pretended to dial her number. I knocked his phone out of his hand. “Now you know I love her rolls.” I sighed, then finally broke down. “Fine, we can go.”

Jahsir reached over and brushed his fingers against mine. Internally, I was a mess. I kept in contact with them for a while after he dipped. But slowly but surely, I pulled back. My anxietywas trying to take me down; I was too nervous about seeing them. Jahsir, on the other hand, was cool, calm, and collected, acting like he wasn’t throwing me into the belly of the beast. Maybe he wasn’t. It was possible that I was making things out to be worse than what they truly were. I kept reminding myself, ‘Crim, you’re a grown woman’- so it was actually time to stand on it.

Jahsir pulled up to his mom's house and turned the ignition off. Gathering my thoughts, I sat quietly preparing for one of two things. Either they would welcome me back with open arms, or they wouldn't; it was simple. Jahsir observed the concern on my face. He tilted my head towards his and placed a kiss on my lips. Then he said,

"All decisions aren’t permanent, Red. Start walking yours back today. I got you, aight? And Scarlett is exactly the kind of joy we all need right now. No matter who she comes from," he added.

Walking into the house, the whiff of fried catfish hit me instantly. I could smell all of my favorite seasonings lingering in the air. The scent was rich, but more importantly, it was familiar with a heavy memory of what we all once were. That same scent had filled the air the first time I came over for dinner, barely 17. It was one of those times when Rashad and I hadn’t eaten in at least a couple of days. There was only so much stealing from the candy store we could do before the junk food started making us sick. The first thing Ms. Jemma said to me was, “Get in here, lil girl. Don’t be acting shy, clearly Rashad isn't.” He was already seated at the table while I hovered in the living room. Today, the aroma in her home walked me through several years of memories. I only prayed we could make more.

“Look at Ms. Crimson. How you doing, baby?” She asked, pulling me into a hug. I sank into her embrace. Nothing likefeeling welcomed when you’ve felt the opposite so long. “And is this the little one, just as cute as ever.”

“Yes, Scarlett, this is Miss Jemma.” I smiled while Jahsir handed Scarlett to his mother. Scarlett was still in her going to any and everybody phase. But her taking a liking to Ms. Jemma nearly warmed my heart. I loved me some Ms. Jemma.

“Well, y'all come on and sit down and eat.”

“I can't impose.”

"Oh, chile, please. I know you ain't acting shy. You raided my refrigerator more than the boys did growing up."

“Dang Mama, don't put the girl business out there.” Jahsir's sister and my truest friend chimed in as she entered the kitchen.

"Zahara. Hey."

“Crim.” She sighed, pulling me into a hug. A sigh from her turned into a heavy breath from me, and we both fought back tears. "He's back," she whispered.

"I'm sorry," I whispered back, still in her embrace.

"It's okay. Not now, " she replied. Sniffling, we slowly pulled away from each other, and our eyes communicated our gratefulness for Jahsir's return and the rekindling of our friendship. Jahsir tugged my hand and nodded, assuring me that all was good.

We all moved about the kitchen, preparing to eat. Once they headed to the dining room, I fixed Jahsir a plate and handed it to him. After making mine, I joined them at the table. “Ms. Jemma, you have outdone yourself, as always. This looks so good.”

“When Jahsir told me he was bringing you by, I knew I had to make your favorite! There's a strawberry crunch cake in there, too. But you look like you had enough cake, baby.”

“Mama!” Zahara scolded her.

“What?! Was that mean?” Ms. Jemma asked, biting into a buttery garlic roll.

“No, Ms. Jemma, it wasn't mean,” I laughed, seriously not taking offense to her observation.

“Well, good. Because I think you look amazing. You've always been a cute girl, but you were a skinny mini all these years. For the life of me, I couldn't tell where all the food you'd gobble down was going. That baby weight filled you out nicely.”

“Very nicely,” Jahsir added as he squeezed my thigh under the table.

I caught Zahara and Ms. Jemma up on my year. Mending our bridges was effortless. After a plate of food, a slice of cake, and a very fulfilling conversation with the three of them, I realized time and distance mean so little when someone means so much.

After dinner, Jahsir and his mother dipped off somewhere down the hall. He claimed he needed to fix the ceiling fan in her bedroom, amongst other things. But Jahsir was dripping in jewelry and his finest clothes. I knew good and well he wasn’t about to get dirty.I knew it was more of a strategic exit than anything. While Ms. Jemma and Zahara played nice with me at dinner, Zahara and I had more to discuss. Once they disappeared, it was just me and her alone for the first time in a long time.

Settling into the living room, Zahara seated herself comfortably on the floor, her legs stretched out in front of her. Jahsir was gone so long that I forgot how much he and Zahara favored each other. Their eyes, skin, and curly hair were identical. I admired her beauty, watching her wavy hair fall to her face as she leaned over Scarlett. She tucked her hair behind her ears, scooped up one of Scarlett's chubby feet, removed the sock, and pretended to chomp down on her toes. “Mmh, such a tasty foot!” she said in a goofy voice. Scarlett squealed, her laugh loud and full of joy, her tiny hands flailing in excitement.

With nearly a year apart, we had lost too much time. Seeing Zahara love on Scarlett reminded me of how sweet and gentlea soul she was. The time I spent in isolation dealing with my postpartum issues could have been spent in laughter and safety. In a sea of missed calls, guilt, unread messages, and my pride, we had much to discuss. It was my fault, and I planned to take full responsibility. Guilt washed over me almost immediately. Zahara sensed it, because before long she said,

“Crimson Nicole Woods. You had a baby. You went through the pregnancy and delivery alone. That had to be hard for you, I understand that. But it hurt my feelings so bad, Crim, to not be a part of your life. How could you?”

“Zahara, I was wrong, I’m so sorry. You and I leaned on each other a lot in his absence. I just felt like I cheated on him. Hell, like I cheated on y’all. I couldn't bring another man's baby around you. Not after crying on your shoulder for 3 years solid about missing your brother.”

“I hear you, but it's never like that with us.” She turned her attention from Scarlett and settled on me. “I told you before, no matter what you and Jahsir go through, we need to stay connected. And besides, you stayed loyal to a ghost for 3 fucking years. Deciding to have some fun was expected. You are my girl, Crim. I'm always on your team. Whether you two are together or not.”

---