Page 67 of Pride and Protest
Good.
I wanted to come by before we left. It just got a little...
I know.
I underestimated how interested in us people still are.
Had you come it would have been a
It’s sick
Yes. I’m seeing some terrible stuff
It will go away
Still, you OK?
Steady streams of cat gifs are helping.
You?
You’re helping.
Warmth crept up Liza’s cheeks. She looked around and pulled the phone closer to her. Maybe they should make a statement?
Long term strategy tho, we should publicly denounce it at some point right?
Let them know we’re not #crazyinlove
Three wavering dots.
Would that be the truth Liza?
The question felt electric, and her fingertips buzzed as she flipped the phone screen facedown on her lap. When her heart wouldn’t stop pounding, she pushed the phone down to the bottom of her purse. The question still didn’t feel far enough away.She shoved her purse under her other bags despite herself. Dorsey’s directness steadied Liza’s whirling thoughts. He was a lot of things, but not a liar. She didn’t feel up to the challenge of answering his text.
What does he want me to admit?
What is he admitting?
They pulled up to their apartment in record time.
Colin was waiting outside the building. No doubt Bev had told him when to show up. Liza pulled at her suitcases. Colin did not offer to help her but buzzed around her anxiously.
“Can we take a walk, Liza?” he asked.
“I’m a little tired,” Liza started.
“Liza, you been staring at that phone for two hours. Stretch your body out. It will do you some good,” Bev said. “Y’all take a walk.” Liza rolled her eyes. Bev was always trying to orchestrate something with Colin, and Liza was over it. She got out of the van and slammed the door behind her, leaving Colin to talk with Bev. If she loved him so much, letherget wrapped in one of his endlessly self-referential conversations. When Liza got to their door, she saw a small brown paper package with her name scrawled in calligraphy.
LeDeya’s eyes rounded. “WIC is so sweet. What is it?”
“It’s for me.” Liza snatched the box. It was cold. Inside, when she finally neatly cut away all the packaging, she saw the gold rim of Blue Bell Homemade Vanilla ice cream. It was one of her answers to the thirty-six questions. She’d told Dorsey about the time she had spent with her father in Texas and the taste of Blue Bell ice cream. Liza blinked back hot tears.
Deya was unimpressed. “Why would WIC get you off-brand ice cream?”
Liza’s voice was thick. “It’s not from WIC and it’s not off-brand.”
Colin cleared his throat. Lest anyone forget for a second that he was here. “Liza, I’m sorry if this dessert is making you so emotional, but”—he let out a shaky breath, then nodded at Bev—“I’m not leaving until you talk to me.”
