Page 78 of Girl, We Go Together
Kass
By the time I made it to the sixth floor, my knees were reminding me that I wasn’t seventeen anymore. The building’s hallway smelled like somebody just cooked fish, and the walls had that city wear to them. The building, I was sure, saved a ton of money by not having an elevator. The least they could have done was upgrade the vicinity. Even when I walked through the lobby toward the stairs, the little laundry room they had looked a mess. But when I got to Cayla’s door, and she opened it, it was like stepping into a whole different world.
Her apartment was spotless. The new gray carpet I’d helped her get installed was spread clean across the floor. It lay soft and plush under my shoes. The air smelled like vanilla candles and Pine-Sol, with a hint of her perfume floating somewhere in between.
“Okay,” I said, stepping inside with a grin. I placed the bag of wine on the floor as I stepped out of my sneakers. “You've been in here working. Your place looks good.”
She smiled a little, the kind of smile that didn’t reach all the way to her eyes. “Yeah, I just wanted to clean up while Oriana’s gone.”
I nodded, scanning the space. “You did your thing. That carpet really set it off.”
“Mm-hmm,” she said softly, adjusting the strap of her tank top. “It just feels like a fresh start, you know?”
Something about the way she said it made me look closer. Her eyes were a bit red around the rims, like she’d been crying earlier. I wanted to ask, but I knew better. Sometimes it was best to just let a woman breathe.
“You hungry?” she asked, reaching for her phone. “I was gonna order DoorDash. I’ve been craving Mexican food.”
“I’m always down for tacos.”
She laughed under her breath and started scrolling. I took a seat on the couch and noticed how much had changed since the last time I was here. The cable box light glowed blue when she didn’t even have service before. A few toys were neatly packed into a basket, and the throw blanket that used to be tossed on the couch was folded just right. She was trying to put the pieces of her life back together, I could tell.
When the food came, she spread it across the coffee table and sat next to me. We mainly ate in silence while the television filled the space between us.
“You ever notice how quiet it gets when a baby’s gone?” she asked after a while.
I nodded, although I couldn’t relate like she could because I didn’t have any children, but she seemed at peace with the silence.
“Yeah, I feel you.”
She nodded back. Her eyes were fixed on the screen, but I could tell she was not watching. It was evident that her mind was somewhere else.
“This is good,” I said, breaking the quiet. The last thing I wanted was for things to be awkward between us. “You got good taste,” I quickly added.
That earned me a small smile.
“I just like authentic Mexican food,” she said before grabbing a napkin from the coffee table to wipe her mouth.
“Then this right here qualifies.”
I could tell that by the salsa that the restaurant gave in little containers that someone’s Abuela was back there in the kitchen mixing with a wooden spoon. For a second, the tension eased. She laughed, and her eyes finally softened as she leaned back on the couch. I didn’t push her to talk, and I didn’t pry into what was eating at her.
I just sat there with her as the glow of the television flickered across her face. I knew firsthand that sometimes showing up meant more than saying the right thing. Only people who really care about you can hear you when you’re quiet, and to me, although those lips didn’t move, she was screaming right now. While sitting in silence, I could feel in me that something was wrong with her, and honestly, the connection was spooky.
I had a tight feeling in my chest just from knowing she wasn’t at ease. I wondered what the fuck had happened that had her feeling this way. I wanted to fix whatever problem she had and take the load off her shoulders and place it onto mine.
She was a damn good woman, and she shouldn’t have gone through half the shit she did, and I’d be damned if she went through anything else. Without her even asking, I was stepping into the role of her protector. I wanted to fix all leaks in her life before she even noticed the water. I twisted my mouth, debating whether I should poke at what I knew was bothering her. Although deep down it was bothering me, I decided not to pry and sit in the moment that she was allowing me to be a part of.
The food was gone, the empty platters were pushed aside, and the television was still running on low volume. Some random movie played. You know, one of those that you don’t really watch, you just let it fill the room while you do other shitwith your time. Cayla had her legs tucked underneath her, with her head resting against the arm of the couch. I could tell she was fading, but she wasn’t ready to sleep. Her mind just looked like she was out of it.
“You ever feel like you keep trying to heal from the same person over and over?” she asked suddenly as she sat up straight.
That made me look at her. I caught the pain in her eyes.
“Yeah,” I said after a moment, “yeah, I know that feeling.”
She nodded slowly while her fingers picked at the edge of the throw blanket. I could tell she was trying to steady herself before opening up to me, and I was going to let her take whatever time she needed.
“I thought I was past it. I really did. But then, something happens when you’re healing. It’ll be a picture, a song, or whatever, and it’s like I’m right back in the same pain. Like it never left.”
