Nearly three weeks had passed since Starting Guard for the Detroit Pistons walked into Emani Bennett's salon with a six-year-old in glitter sneakers and an urgent need for portrait ready braids.
Three quiet weeks.
No surprise visits.
No emergency appointments.
Just one brief text from Ray saying Riley's pictures came out beautiful followed by three photos and a laughing note that Cade's mother had apparently shown them to half the family like a personal achievement.
She had replied with a simple heart and gone back to work. That had been enough. At least that was what she told herself.
By Friday night, Emani had fully shifted her focus elsewhere—meaning pajamas, a silk scarf tied loosely around her hair, and sitting cross-legged on Ray and Cannen's couch while Detroit's cold pressed softly against the windows.
Ray's house always felt lived in: warm lighting, throw blankets everywhere, candles she forgot to blow out until halfway through the night, and a kitchen that somehow always smelled like somebody had cooked even when they hadn't.
Their girls' night had started with takeout and promises to watch something neither of them needed to think too hard about. A dating reality show now played on the television while the coffee table held open containers of lemon pepper wings, fries, chocolate-covered pretzels, and sparkling juice poured into actual stem glasses, because Raychell believed presentation mattered even for lazy nights in.
Emani reached for another fry while Ray studied her from the other side of the couch.
"You know what your problem is?" The old friend asked.
Emani didn't bother looking over, "Here we go."
"You dismiss men too quickly."
"I dismiss nonsense quickly."
"The accountant was not nonsense."
"He corrected how I pronounced bruschetta like I asked for a vocabulary lesson."
Raychell laughed, she didn't care about the accountant. She needed to express that her friend needed to do more with her options. Emani always discarded them without a chance, a tier system.
"That could've been nerves."
"That could've been irritating."
"He was nice."
"He was exhausting."
Raychell leaned deeper into the couch. They got into this banter. Back and forth, forth and back like an old married couple.
"You are determined to stay single."
"I am determined to protect my peace."
There it was again. It was how their friendship thrived throughout the years. Not many people, actually no one at all could quickly check Emani Bennett like that.
"You can have peace and somebody buying you dinner."
"I can also buy my own dinner and avoid disappointment." Emani had her own money, she wasn't phased about spending it.
That earned a long dramatic sigh, "See? Impossible."
Bennett smiled into her glass, prepared to snicker. "And yet you keep inviting me over."
"Because Cannen's been talking sports all week and I needed estrogen in the room."
"Well, how bad?" Emani wondered.
"Yesterday he paused mid-conversation to explain a trade rumor I did not ask about."
"That sounds like love."
"That sounds like selective suffering."
Raychell shifted and narrowed her eyes.
"And before you pretend not to know, yes—I still think Cade noticed you that day."
YOU ARE READING
me & tomfoolery
RandomA book of nothingness and everything at the same time. Welcome to my mf thoughts.
