For the last seven years, Baya Mikaels has been living the fast life. Right out of high school she got the chance of a lifetime; to live her dream in LA as a songwriter. But are dreams always what you expect? It wasn't easy but Baya was independent...
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I've just gotten in from closing up the restaurant when my phone starts to ring. I'm exhausted, and I groan as I pull my phone out of my back pocket.
Lorraine's name flashes on the screen, and I collapse on the couch as I answer.
"Hey, sis," I exhale loudly.
"You sound tired."
"I am. It was a busy night. Special nights are always that way."
"Because people love your food, J." She pauses for a second while she whispers on her end, but it's too faint for me to understand. "Listen, I need a favor."
"What kind of favor?"
"My boss just called me and put me on call for the weekend because the other PA called out. I'm supposed to be in Charlotte tomorrow to pick up the furniture and arch for the wedding, but I can't be that far away in case I'm called in. Will you go and pick it up for me?"
"Sure, I can move some things around."
"Good, and I've talked to Baya. She knows exactly what my order is and to make sure that I'm not being shitted by anyone."
"She's coming with me?" My voice elevates at the thought.
"Absolutely. She is my maid of honor after all." My sister, cupid.
"Okay, cool. Yeah."
"Break her heart and I'll break your face," Lorraine threatens, and frankly, it pisses me off a bit.
"The one person breaking hearts is her—" I try to argue but my sister cuts me off.
"Nope. We're not starting with that bullshit. You're both moving past it and trying to see things from a different perspective, so no funny business, okay? I like having my best friend back home, thank you."
"I make no promises," I tell her honestly. "Just because I'm willing to give it a try doesn't mean that I trust her yet."
"I understand you; I do." Lorraine sighs. "But you can't let that get in the way of what could be, regardless of whether it blossoms into more or if you're just friends."
When did my sister get to be so wise?
I only realize that I said that out loud when Lorraine's laugh comes through the phone.
"I'm wise because I've had to be. Someone has to be the damn voice of reason in this family." She has a point. It elicits a laugh from me.
"Okay, what do I need to do?"
After getting very thorough instructions from my sister about tomorrow, I get ready for bed and fall onto the mattress, but not before pulling out my journal to write in for the night. Ever since I kissed Baya again, I've written in here daily.
I told her she made me feel... these words are my proof.
In these pages, I don't have to hide. I don't have to conceal my feelings, lie to myself, or hold back. I can be my imperfectly flawed, angry self.