Page 16 of Touch of Smoke
two weeks later
The spring Pop UpShop at the community center was one of the annual events to take place in the neighborhood where she’d grown up. They were used as fundraisers for the center, to make up for the money that didn’t funnel down to them through the city’s budget. There were two pop up shops each year—spring and Christmas. And two candy drives; one at the beginning of the school year and another one the first of the year, those funds were earmarked specifically for summer programming.
Sariya knew all this because after years of volunteering at the center, she’d been asked to be on their planning committee. She’d agreed because her childhood held too many memories of this place to not want other children to share in its benefits.
The gym was filled with vendor tables, the scents of different food and treats from some of them making her stomach growl. She had a list of all the vendors so she knew exactly who washere today but in a little while she’d walk around and personally chat with as many of them as she could.
For now, though, she stood just behind the table where a few other volunteers were welcoming guests and giving them handouts about the center’s yearly programming as well as a map of the vendors on display.
“Hey,” Donyell said after she’d made her way around the guests, stopped at the table. “Sorry, I’m late. I had to wait for a furniture delivery at the lounge before I could head over here. Is your stuff in the back? I need to put these bags and my purse down, then I’ll be all yours.”
It occurred to Sariya while she listened to her friend talk just how much she and Ro resembled each other. They shared that same deep mocha complexion, the same expressive eyes and their love of talking. She’d lost count of how many times Donyell would hold an entire conversation with her, without Sariya having to say a word. Ro had that way about him too. Sariya had seen it more in the last two weeks since they’d been spending a lot of time together.
Initially, most of the time had been in meetings with another rep at his bank where they began to roadmap what her plan for the wellness center would actually look like. But that soon morphed into just as much time spent having quiet dinners at his home and breakfast in bed on Saturday mornings. Those had quickly become her favorite part of the week.
“Hey, you listening to me?” Donyell said nudging Sariya’s shoulder.
“Oh, yeah. Yeah, take your stuff on back to the supply room. That’s where I have my stuff all the way in the back inside that gray tub,” she told her.
Donyell narrowed her eyes at her, then said, “Okay. I’ll be right back and when I return, I’ve got a bone to pick with you.”
Oh boy, Sariya thought when Donyell walked away.
“Hey, baby,” Ms. Christine said a few minutes later when she arrived. “I’ve got more of those flyers you wanted for the church Mother’s Day concert.”
“Great, thanks. I’ll just put them over here on the table and they’ll hand them out when guests come in,” Sariya said and took the stack of papers from Ms. Christine.
When she returned to where the woman was still standing, she asked, “Where’s Mr. Ralph?”
“Oh, he said he might come along later. He ate something spicy down at the lodge last night so his stomach’s not acting right,” Ms. Christine said with a wave of her hand.
“Well, I don’t envy him that,” Sariya replied.
“What do you need me to do?” Ms. Christine asked. “I’m here to help.”
Sariya gave her the assignment of making the initial check-in with the vendors to see if they had everything they needed. When Donyell returned, Sariya would have her go up and down the block, handing out flyers for the event to the shops that remained in the neighborhood. So many had closed in the past few years, they almost had more vacant buildings than they had ones occupied, which wasn’t a good look for the community overall. But the shops that remained were owned by people who’d been brought up in this neighborhood too, so they were happy to help support the community center and its activities.
But when Donyell came out, she looked like she was ready to fight, or at least pull somebody up about something. Sariya hated that she thought that somebody was her.
“Okay, I need you to step over here for a minute,” Donyell said, not waiting for Sariya to agree or disagree, because she’d already pulled her by the side of her sweatshirt.
“I swear Ms. Christine birthed the bossiest children in the universe,” she mumbled as she came to a stop near one of the exit doors.
The event had started an hour ago and guests were really starting to pour in so that now the place was a buzz of activity and conversation. They had used somebody’s phone to hook to the speakers and old Motown tunes played softly throughout the space.
“What’s on your mind, Donyell?” Sariya asked because she knew that if Donyell had something to say, it was better to let her get it off her chest as quickly as possible. Then she could go on about her business. “And stop pulling on my clothes. I feel like that’s a form of assault,” she joked, but still frowned.
“Oh, I ain’t assaulted you yet, little miss keeping secrets,” Donyell said. She propped her hands on her hips and tilted her head. Her hair was in six cornrows with the length going down to just above her waist. The style always looked cute on her, but Sariya couldn’t wear cornrows, whichever stylist she had do them would always make them too tight and she could not stand that pain.
“Secrets? What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about where you’ve been most nights in the past couple of weeks,” Donyell said.
“I’ve been where I always am, home, church, my mother’s or your mother’s. Your house the third Sunday of the month because that’s when you make rice pudding and you know I don’t know how to make it for myself,” she replied.
Donyell narrowed her eyes. “Who is he?”
“Who is who?”
