Page 56 of Leave It to Us
“Because I’m obviously the one who accepts how good we are together,” he said.
“Gabriel—” she started, but he cut her off.
“Ah, c’mon, Tam, don’t do that.”
“Don’t do what?”
“Don’t say my name like you’re getting ready to start some bullshit.”
“Whoa, wait a minute. You don’t know what I was getting ready to say.”
“Bet I do,” he said, and then, before waiting for her to respond, he continued, “We’re just friends with benefits. Remember, we decided that’s what we were going to be.” She suspected the high-pitched tone he was using was supposed to be mimicking hers, but Tami wasn’t amused.
“If you know the truth, then why are we having this conversation?”
“Because you know that truth has long since changed. I haven’t been with another woman in six months,” he told her. “And unlessyou’ve been lying to me—which I know you haven’t ’cause that’s not who you are—you haven’t been with anybody else either.”
“First,” she said, feeling her mouth go dry but forging on anyway, “that’s not true; you went out with that Walgreens clerk right after my drunken booty call.”
“I went out with her, but I didn’t sleep with her. I haven’t slept with another woman since your drunken booty call.”
“Oh.” That statement hit her unexpectedly. “Well, that’s not true, either, because you and I slept together that night of my interview when you brought over the pizza.”
“You, Tami. I’ve slept with you and only you in the last six months.”
She knew that’s what he’d meant; she just didn’t like the spurt of joy that had soared through her at his admission. She sighed. “I can’t talk about this right now,” she said. “It’s out of the blue, and it’s uncomfortable, and I have so much other stuff going on. I’ve got to get through these renovations with my sisters. Lana’s acting weird. Yvonne’s probably sleeping with the contractor. No, I take that back—Yvonne’s not bold enough to sleep with the guy, but I know she likes him and he likes her.” And that wasn’t the line of conversation she wanted to circle back to with him. “We might have plumbing problems, although I hope not, because Lana will lose her shit and Yvonne might just say to hell with it and put the house on the market as is.”
She paused long enough to move her hand from her midriff and rub her fingers over her now-throbbing forehead.
“Stop,” he said, with more bass than he normally used when talking to her. At another time, she might’ve thought that was a little sexy. Tonight, it was just more confusing. “Just stop and take a breath. I’m not asking you for a commitment tonight, Tami. I’m just saying I think we need to stop skirting around this thing that we both know is growing stronger between us.”
She sighed again, this time closing her eyes. She should say something, do something, decide something. But she couldn’t.
“Look, I’m sorry,” he said when she remained silent. “I’m sorry if me bringing this up has upset you. That’s the last thing I want.” He sighed, frustration clear in the sound, and she felt awful for being the cause of it. “But I want to be with you, and I’ve tried to go along with your ‘friends with benefits’ only mantra, but I don’t want to do that anymore. And I just thought it was time I just said it.”
“And what if I don’t want the same thing? Do I lose my best friend?” she asked, hating how her heart had started to thump wildly in her chest while she waited for a response.
“I ...,” he started, but she shook her head and cut him off.
“No. No. Don’t answer that. Just ... don’t.” She kept her eyes closed, like it would somehow make the painfully irritating conversation go away. “Can we just talk about this when I get back? That may not be a fair thing for me to ask, but I can’t ... I just need to ...” She didn’t know what she needed to do. All she knew was that she didn’t want to lose him, and she didn’t want to commit to something that she wasn’t sure she could handle.
“Tami, baby, listen to me,” he said. “We can stop talking about it. I don’t like hearing you sound so off-balance. Just ... if you could just breathe. Tackle one thing at a time. How are your plans for the kitchen coming along? Did Deacon go for the change in the style of cabinets you wanted?”
And just like that, Gabriel had done what he was somehow always able to do with her—calm her, assuage her, see her.
The remainder of their conversation consisted of talk about cabinets, floor types, and backsplash. Gabriel had started watching the shows on HGTV that Tami told him she watched, so he knew all the jargon and had even added some suggestions of his own. Not that she was taking any of his suggestions, because they were stark, modern ideas that she didn’t think would fit in with the almost-rustic vibe she considered their Lowcountry theme to be. But by the time they said goodnight, they were on an even keel again. She wasn’t feeling overwhelmed or afraid—she only felt happy to have such a good friend.
Hours later, Tami tossed and turned in bed, her dreams causing as much anxiety as the reality she lived in.
She’d spent years hating this woman, hours wondering what she could have possibly done in a former life to be cursed with the life she’d been given. The youngest child of parents who’d divorced a year after she was born. A tumultuous childhood partially due to a delayed diagnosis of ADHD, years of therapy to just get her to a point where she wasn’t being suffocated by depression every day. And now this.
She still held the phone in her hand, unable to throw it out of the window or put it back to her ear to hear the rest of what Yvonne had said. She’d checked out of the conversation right after her sister had said, “Mama’s had a stroke. She’s at Gaithersburg Memorial.”
Everything had stopped at that moment. Whatever she’d been doing, she’d forgotten. She breathed—she knew because she could feel the rise and fall of her chest, could hear the quickened beat of her heart. Her eyes blinked because warm tears rolled down her cheeks. And she wanted to scream with the deceiving pain that ripped through her chest.
Her mother, Alfreda Hanson-Butler, the woman who could do no wrong. The esteemed multidegree-holding superintendent of the Lehigh County School system. The strongest and smartest Black woman Tami knew, coming before only her sister Yvonne.
She’d had a stroke.
