by Kiley Reid
“Hey, you. Pickle-head,” she said. “Hey, I love you.”
Briar laughed from her nose—it almost seemed as if she were trying to blow something out of it—and she put her cheek on Emira’s shoulder. Just then, the lights went off in their end of the aquarium to signal that closing time was near. Briar screamed out, “Mira, I can’t find me!” Emira held her closer and said, “I still see you.” The lights came back on.
The bus got them home by six p.m. and Briar looked sleepy, which meant Emira had to hustle. She liked having dinner on the table by six fifteen, so that Briar could avoid a second wind before bath time at six forty-five. Emira cooked scrambled eggs and toast. She used a fork to smash half an avocado onto the bread while Briar sang to herself from the kitchen floor, occasionally sniffing a sticker on her shirt (Emira didn’t have the heart to tell her that it was not the kind that smells). In the last section of Briar’s divided plate, Emira placed bright orange pieces of a peach. For maybe the two hundredth time, the two girls sat side by side at the kitchen table.
Emira checked the clock on the microwave—it read 6:46 p.m.—and as she reached to remove the Velcro at the back of Briar’s bib, she caught herself thinking, Wait a second. I don’t want to give this part up either.
On her own and at her best, Briar was odd and charming, filled with intelligence and humor. But there was something about the actual work, the practice of caring for a small unstructured person, that left Emira feeling smart and in control. There was the gratifying reflex of being good at your job, and even better was the delightful good fortune of having a job you wanted to be good at. Without Briar, there were all these markers of time that would come to mean nothing. Was Emira just supposed to exist on her own at six forty-five? Knowing that somewhere else it was Briar’s bathtime? One day, when Emira would say good-bye to Briar, she’d also leave the joy of having somewhere to be, the satisfaction of understanding the rules, the comfort of knowing what’s coming next, and the privilege of finding a home within yourself.
Emira loved the ease in which she could lose herself in the rhythm of childcare. She didn’t have to worry about having interesting hobbies. The fact that she still slept on a twin bed meant nothing to Briar or any of their plans. Every day with Briar was a tiny victory that Emira didn’t want to give up. Seven o’clock was always a win. Here’s your kid. She’s happy and alive.
PART FOUR
Twenty-one
The moment Alix returned home from New York City she put Catherine down for a nap, set Briar up with the iPad, and quickly fucked her husband in the third-floor bathroom. Peter had his work clothes on and his face revealed a miraculous elation in the mirror as his belt buckle jingled across Alix’s hamstring. Alix had squeezed in a trim and blowout that morning in Manhattan before she boarded the train, and she liked watching her blond hair bounce as Peter plunged in from behind. They finished seconds before they heard Emira arrive and close the front door, which made Alix grin and hold her finger to her lips.
New York was like an ex who had worked out all summer. Alix had spent the last five days running through the city with Rachel, Jodi, and Tamra—sometimes just with Catherine—to all her favorite spots. She ate ice cream in a cone on 7th Street, standing under a lamppost in the snow. She bought Catherine a flowered beanie. And she wore heels for the first time in ten months when she attended an event for the Clinton campaign. Hillary Clinton herself wasn’t there, but hundreds of sharp, smart, and sexy women were. By the time her train pulled back into the 30th Street Station, she had an email in her inbox from a professor in communications at the New School: We’d love to talk about the upcoming semester. Let’s schedule a chat soon! Alix quickly responded, and then continued captioning future Instagram photos she’d taken in the city. She now had enough content for weeks to continue pretending that she still lived there.
“Hi!” With her pants back on, Alix jogged down the stairs and reveled in the flicks of fresh blond ends on her shoulders. Next to the kitchen table, Emira was kneeling in front of Briar, and Alix’s chest seemed to expand all the way up to her eyes. Oh, how she had missed both of them! Her chatty and nervous daughter, and the quiet, thoughtful person she paid to love her. It was enchanting to see that nothing had really changed. Briar still needed help putting her mittens on her hands. Emira still wore pilled neon socks below her black leggings. “I can’t believe I haven’t seen you in a week!”
Emira said, “I know, welcome back,” as Peter came downstairs. He slipped a jacket over his shoulders as he kissed Alix and Briar. Then he was gone and it was just the three of them.
“Have you guys been having fun?”
“Yeah,” Emira said. “Same ol’ stuff, I guess.”
Alix turned to retrieve her coffee from the counter. With the cup in her hands she turned back around, tucked her hair behind her ear, and said, “Emira.”
New York City had reminded Alix that if she could talk to more than four hundred women about asking for a promotion, she could definitely talk to Emira about Kelley Copeland. The past five days had reaffirmed the confidence she had in herself, as well as providing clarity about this conversation. It would be much simpler than she had imagined. She wouldn’t be pushy. She’d stick to the facts. And she wouldn’t expect Emira to do something right away. Alix had once been twenty-five herself, and all this time later, she could still remember the Kelley Copeland effect well. Regardless, Alix would protect her sitter. Thanksgiving was meant to mark a shift in their relationship, and her desire for this hadn’t changed. She would step in to be an advocate in Emira Tucker’s life, and not just on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Alix smiled into the side of her cup. “Do you want to talk for a minute?”
“Ummm, sure?” Emira stood up from the floor. “Well, I was actually thinking of changing it up today and taking Briar to a movie.”
“A movie!” Alix made a face at her daughter. “That’s so exciting.”
“How come these has fingers . . .” Briar said, pointing to Emira’s gloves, “and mine has no fingers?”
“Because yours are mittens. They’re very warm.”
“Well, I’ll warn you that her attention span isn’t great,” Alix said. “I can’t imagine her sitting still in a theater for too long.”
“Oh, yeah, it’s the midday mommy-and-me one you suggested a long time ago. So the lights will be on and she can move around or whatever.”
“Neat!” Had Alix really just said neat? Alix kept her smile broad, but inside she was wondering, How are we talking about movie showtimes right now? Emira and Briar needed to stay inside the house. Alix had put Catherine down early for this reason: she and Emira had a lot to discuss. “I’ve been meaning to try that out,” she said. “It might just be on Tuesdays, though. But you know what—I can just give you the Amazon password if you guys want to snuggle up and do a movie here instead—”
“Can I just check and see?”
Emira always asked Alix if she could use the computer (Can I make sure my train is still running? Can I check to see if it’s going to rain?), but now, Alix watched her sitter shake the mouse and hit the keyboard with such familiarity that it made Alix’s head tilt hard to one side. Emira made two more clicks. “Perfect,” she said. “It starts at twelve forty-five.”
“Oh, great.”
“I’m just gonna email the address to myself really quick.”
“Mama?” Briar called, holding her blond ponytail in her hands. “Some fishes has no feet or tails? And that’s . . . that’s just how they are.”
“That’s very true,” Alix said. “Emira, that sounds great. I think it’ll be really fun. But do you mind if we talk for a second?”
Alix watched Emira click Send on an email before she turned around. “Sure, what’s up?”
This return made Alix fold her arms in a protective response. How had this gotten so far away from her? Was this what it would be like to have a teenager
some day? Someone dying to leave your space but also making it feel like it wasn’t yours?
“Well . . . let me get straight to it,” Alix said. She delivered this with a light laugh at the end that made her cringe. She took another breath and placed her coffee on the counter to create a moment between Emira’s movie plans and the news she’d been practicing the delivery of for the past seven days. “We had a such a nice time at Thanksgiving, and we were so glad you guys came. But . . . I’m sure it was a little odd for you as well. First and foremost? Thank you for being such a superwoman that night. I know I said it before, but once again, you completely saved us.”
“Oh, of course,” Emira said. She looked at Briar and said, “It’s no fun to be sick.”
Briar turned grave and told Emira, “I throwed up.” Emira nodded and said, “I remember.”
“And second . . .” Alix displayed both her palms. “I don’t want you to feel awkward at all about the fact that Kelley and I dated each other way back when.”
Emira laughed. “Well, sure.” For a moment she looked out to the wall of windows and put her hands into her puffy vest pockets. “It was like . . . high school, right?”
This rebuttal felt like Emira had taken an unprompted guess at Alix’s age and overshot the number by too many years. At her feet, Briar hopped on one foot and said, “Mama? Bees don’t like when you do gymnastics on they’s heads.”
“Exactly, yes,” Alix recovered. “I’m just making sure. But . . . well, Emira, will you sit down for a second?”
Alix picked Briar up into her arms and sat at the kitchen table; the toddler began to play with a frayed string on her mittens. Emira said, “Okay . . .” and half sat into the next chair over. She kept her posture upright, as if she were afraid the chair had recently been painted and she wasn’t sure if it had dried.
“Alright, so . . .” Alix said. “I think you guys seem very happy together, and if you’re happy, I’m happy . . .”
“If you’re happy and you know it?” Briar declared. “Then row row row your boat to the store.”
“The Kelley I knew way back when, well . . .” Alix sighed with the weight of unfortunate news. “Well, he wasn’t very nice.”
Alix had the floor again. She could feel Emira leaning in to her words and her bored resistance fading into mild intrigue, which was a lot coming from Emira. “Emira, you’re so smart,” Alix went on, “and I know that you know what you want out of a relationship more than anyone else, and I also know that people can change. I just . . .” Alix ruffled Briar’s hair and kissed the back of her head. “I wouldn’t feel right not letting you know about my experience with Kelley, especially when I think the same issues may come up in yours.”
“I mean . . .” Emira crossed her legs and folded her hands in between her thighs. “I know you guys didn’t have the best breakup . . . I don’t know details or anything, but that’s cool. It happens.”
Ahhh, so he hasn’t told you, Alix thought. Of course he hasn’t, because he knows he was wrong. “Well, I wish that were the bulk of it,” she said. “Kelley and I . . . we didn’t date long, but . . . if I can be really candid about this . . . I had some issues with Kelley not respecting my privacy, which led to a lot of harassment from other classmates on my end. But more importantly, and why this may involve you, it was fairly common knowledge that Kelley had a habit of fetishizing African American people and culture. I won’t get into the details . . . but I’d be so completely crushed if Kelley ever used you in the same way.”
Alix’s delivery had arrived in the light tone she’d mentally practiced in cab rides, in the shower, and while she applied her mascara over the past week. She was merely supplying information for Emira’s benefit, not anyone else’s, and she’d said the words African American and culture without lowering her volume to a suburban hush. And yes, she remembered Tamra’s advice to not bring up what Kelley had done with her letter, but she didn’t say Alix couldn’t allude to the fact that he’d done something terrible. Alix expected Emira to pry—that was what Alix would have done—into what Kelley had done or said, and when. But Emira kept her hands between her legs. She swung her hair onto her back and said, “This was all like . . . sixteen years ago, right?”
“God, was it that long ago?” Alix laughed. It was fifteen years ago, but okay. “I know, it’s a lifetime ago. I’m also saying this to let you know why I may have come off as rude when I first saw him at the door.” Alix pivoted. “At first I was just so stunned to see him at all. But knowing him as well as I did, I became a little concerned about his reasons for dating you.”
Emira flinched and looked at the floor. “I don’t know. I think I’m like . . . pretty chill and dateable.”
“Oh, Emira. No no no. That’s not what I meant at all.” Alix used her right hand to shake her fingers and waft her words out of the air. The fuck fuck fuck feeling from Thanksgiving was once again pungent in her home and her stomach. “There’s no doubt in my mind that he’s smitten with you. But I’m just making sure it’s for all the right reasons.”
“I see . . .” Emira sighed. “Well, I definitely know what you’re talking about. And I’ve met guys who are like that, but I haven’t really seen that with Kelley so far? So yeah, I don’t know. I also did some really dumb things when I was in high school. Like, okay—this is really embarrassing, but I definitely thought that Asian people were just smarter. And I definitely used to say things like, ‘That’s so gay.’ And both of those things are so offensive and awful, and now I can’t believe I ever talked like that. So yeah. I really appreciate you telling me, but it would feel weird to make it a thing now when it hasn’t been a problem.”
Alix had definitely described things as gay in high school, too. She used the word Oriental until she was in college, and only stopped because a roommate told her to. And there was a point in time when—if someone was described as Indian—Alix thought it was funny to say, “Dot or feather?” But this was different, how did Emira not see that? Kelley had a penchant for othering black culture that had started in high school and continued to develop in adulthood. He still didn’t think that what he was doing was wrong. What had Kelley told Emira to make her reject this information? In high school, Kelley’s admiration for Robbie and his friends had been so palpable and excruciating. Had he been fetishizing black people for so long that he finally became believable? Alix knew she was doing the right thing, but she somehow felt the same way she had when her roommate had looked at her over a cup of noodles to say, “Dude, you can’t say Oriental unless you’re talking about a rug.”
Alix said, “Totally,” and she hugged Briar closer. “This is exactly what I wanted to hear. If it hasn’t been a problem, then, wonderful. I just wanted to—”
“Sorry.” Emira bit the side of her bottom lip and took her phone out of her pocket. Looking down at it she said, “The theater only has one showing today and I just wanna make sure we don’t miss it.”
“Oh, of course!” Alix placed Briar on the ground. She stood and immediately felt dazed and dehydrated. Briar sang, “Ella-meno-peeee,” as Alix took her phone from the counter thinking, How did I . . . What did she . . . What the fuck just happened?
“But you’re cool with it, though?” Emira stood too. She took a second and balanced her knee against the seat of the chair as Briar performed deep squats underneath the table. “I do realize that it’s extremely random and weird. I’m just making sure . . . you’re good with it, right?”
For a second Alix thought, If I said no, would you really stop dating him? But she shook her head violently and said, “Oh, a hundred percent!”
“Mira, look!” Briar reached her hand out from under the table. “Is dis my knuckles?”
“Kind of. Your knuckles are right there.”
Alix bent and kissed Briar’s cheeks. “You guys have so much fun!”
Emira slipped her jacket on, but she didn’t leave. Alix stood at t
he other end of the table and refreshed her Instagram for the third time in the last ten seconds. Emira kept standing. Alix finally looked up.
“Sorry . . .” Emira said. “Peter would just leave cash on the counter.”
Moments later, as Alix stood in the window and watched her sitter walk hand in hand with her firstborn child and thirty dollars in her pocket, she slipped her jacket over her back. She applied lipstick in the girls’ bathroom above the child-sized toothbrushes, toothpaste, and baby lotion. She pushed her hair in front of her shoulders, and then she walked out the front door with just her keys and her phone.
It was as if she’d taken a breath at the front stoop and landed herself on the snowy sidewalk, her gloves on and booties tapping beneath her. The last time she’d come from New York, Philadelphia all looked the same, but now she knew her way around. It was twelve sixteen p.m., just enough time to get there. She’d looked at Emira’s text messages enough to know where he worked and what time he went to lunch (Rittenhouse Square, twelve thirty p.m.).
There were several twenty- and thirty-somethings in button-downs and peacoats walking in groups and carrying brown to-go bags. The sidewalk was huge here in front of the colossal buildings, and Alix watched people pass as she leaned back against a fountain that was frozen over with ice and grime. For a moment she prepared herself to go inside the office and ask to speak with him right there. It would probably be one of those stupid modern offices with brightly painted walls and an open seating plan, and they wouldn’t get much privacy but she could make it happen. And maybe the shock of her presence, and the calmness she’d deploy, would be enough to let Kelley know that he’d been caught. But it wasn’t long before she saw him. He wasn’t exiting his place of work but coming toward it, and fast. Alix’s gut twisted inside her and she felt the urge to shield it in the same way she had when she was pregnant. Instead she straightened and stood. She kept her hands coolly in her pockets as she walked.