Page 1 of Throw Away the Key
CHAPTER ONE
“Em! Where you at?”?
“In here!” Emma sat on the beige carpeted floor in her bedroom taping boxes together as she hummed along to the Cowboy Carter album playing from the Bluetooth speaker on her nightstand next to her scent diffuser, which was currently filled with green tea and lemongrass essential oils. More than once, she’d lost the edge of the packaging tape and had to go picking at the roll with her fingernails.Over here fuckin’ up my gel manicure.
“What you doin’ in here?” Zora asked, leaning against the doorway in a pair of joggers and one of her boyfriend’s sweatshirts. Her curls were unkempt, as expected, given the level of sextasy Emma heard going on the night before. “Are you really packing?”
“Yeah, it's time for me to go. I've reached out to a few different buildings to schedule tours and have decided that I am actively looking for a place. I want to get out of your hair.” She finally got enough of a corner of the tape released to pull some across the folded seam of a freshly assembled box, snipping the excess and folding a corner of the packing tape before setting the roll down. “Your girl is all grown up now!” Emma flippedher boho braids behind her shoulder and started to assemble another box.
“But you're not a bother to us! Just because Reid is moving in here doesn't mean that you have to go anywhere. It's not like he's going to use your room.” Zora stepped further into the room and ran her fingers over some clothes folded on Emma’s unmade bed, a lacy pink bra flung over the corner of her teal upholstered headboard. The floor was the only neutral color in the room–the space was filled with bright colors, gold accents, and cherry blossom string lights. “Don’t get me wrong–my man, my man, my man,” she gushed, “but no one replaces you.”
Emma rolled her eyes. “As if anyone could ever!” she tsked. “But you gotta remember, you are just one door away from me. Iknowyou love your man. I just want to be able to give you your privacy because, uh–and I don't want to embarrass you–but you're not exactly the quietest when you two are having yourloving moments,” Emma grinned at Zora with a wink. Quiet they were not–Emma was pretty sure one of the neighbors stood out on the porch for the grand finale of that second round.
Zora's face colored. “I mean, I could be quieter,” she stammered, breaking eye contact.
“Yeah, but who wants to worry about volume when you're in the middle of clappin’ cheeks? I want you to be able to enjoy yourself–I want you to shout when you need to! Seriously, sis, if he's not making you scream like that, he's not doing it right. So trust me when I say it's perfectly fine. Hell, get some for me too,” Emma smiled to herself as she stood and handed an empty box to Zora. She placed flat boxes against the foot of the bed. “You might as well make yourself useful, if you’re gonna be in here.”
“But is this how you're going to spend your Saturday night? You're not going out tonight?” Zora scratched her scalp, smoothing her hands over her hair as she felt its dissheveled state. “You coulda told me I looked like a damn cockatoo.”
Emma smirked. “I needed to imprint this vision on my brain first. And, no, I don't have anything lined up.”
“What happened to that one who you usually went out with on Saturdays for movies and whatever else? Mr. Film Buff…”
“Yeah, I kind of got rid of everybody. I got tired of them. Sort of a social entanglements cleanse.” She stepped into her closet and brought out an armful of clothes still on their hangers, making a pile in front of Zora before she moved over to her lime green bookcase to fill another box. She set another empty box on top of her matching green desk, which she’d carefully painted herself in Zora’s backyard. The wall was covered in Black girl magic–colorful paintings and prints of Black women adorned with flowers, dancing, traveling, and glowing.
“Wait,allof them?” Zora blinked in awe, holding a half-folded shirt in midair.
“Hey, it's not like there was an entire football league, you know,” Emma grimaced, clutching her pearls as Zora cackled. It was true that Emma preferred to date around. She’d found too frequently that the men she dated in DC had diagnosed themselves as allergic to commitment, so she reached out to different people to satisfy different needs. Most recently, there had been the film guy, the foodie, and the deejay. Each served their specific purpose, and compartmentalizing helped her avoid emotional complications.
“No, but you do carry a basketball team with a couple of possible alternates from the bench once in a while,” Zora quipped, removing the clothes from hangers and folding each article to place neatly in the box.
Emma rolled her eyes. “It was just three guys and the rotation was getting a little stale. A couple of them were getting kinda clingy and one of them literally asked me if I knew where we were going. Nevermind that film guy is forty-five and lives with his momma and the foodie and I have nothing else incommon. Neither of them are people I’d consider for anything long-term. I just felt like I needed some fresh air.”
“So, are you looking to build a new roster then?” Zora motioned for Emma to come over to her with the tape as she flattened the cardboard, folding it and holding it closed as Emma taped it together.
“No, I feel like I'm done with that.” The finality of Emma’s tone felt a lot like freedom. Something was missing from her romantic life–namely, the romance.
“Wow,” Zora’s mouth gaped open. Her wide stare was riddled with disbelief.
Emma threw her hands up in the air. “What?” She was perfectly capable of flying solo. It’s not like anyoneneededto maintain a rotation at all times, did they?
“You've had dating rotations as long as we've lived in this house together. I just wasn't sure I would see the day when you would make the choice to stop.” She regarded her best friend with wonder as her eyes narrowed. “So does this mean what I think it means?”
“What's that?” Emma bit her lip as she turned and pulled more clothes from the closet.Why does this chick always read me like a book?
“You always said that when you stopped your rotation, it meant that you were ready to date another woman and fall in love.”
It had been a long time since Emma’s last relationship–her only love. Things didn’t end on good terms and she didn’t like to talk about it even though her therapist seemed to bring it up with far more frequency than Emma felt was warranted.
Emma shrugged. “I'm more open to it, but I don’t think dating was the reason I decided to end things… I just know I'm tired of trying to keep up with these guys, so I decided to give it up for a while.”Maybe I’m ready…
“Okay,” Zora nodded, accepting the next pile of clothes.
“Y'all up here?” Granny Marion called as she neared the top of the stairs. “How are my babies?” She stepped into the bedroom, a smile on her ruby lips as she smoothed the front of her slacks. Her bronzed brown skin was moisturized with Vaseline and shea butter, her dark eyes bright with mischief and framed by laugh lines.
“Granny, we could have come downstairs!” Zora chided her grandmother.
Ms. Marion stood just as elegantly as ever, her silver hair pulled back into her signature chignon, her dancer’s feet poised in fourth position. “Nonsense. I came here to help my girl pack. “That's why I have my casual attire on today.”
