I can’t believe any of it happened. I had the hottest, kinkiest sexual experience of my life in a darkened elevator stuck between floors. And we were both just drunk enough to call it our second mistake and end up right back where we started.
He could be grateful Tani showed up when she did so we didn’t take it any farther. Not that we could have. Who am I kidding? Even if he had been curious enough to try for round three, the unforgettable events of Hurlapalooza ‘19 had to have changed his mind forever. Which is why I’m never leaving this apartment and will most likely die alone.
Hangover Joey is a downer.
I tug on pajama bottoms and a shirt, hobbling down the stairs to squint at my bestie. “D’you sleep okay? Find your bedroom? I labeled it for you.”
“I noticed.” She holds up one of my oversized coffee cups that reads:
Testes
Testes
1, 2…3?
Classic ball jokes crack me up. Surprise.
“Drink this now.”
I take it obediently, bending down to her five-foot-two level to kiss her cheek. “Thank you, dearest.”
“Drink.”
I head over to my couch and sink carefully into the cushions, humming as I take my first sip. She added honey. It means she still loves me.
When she joins me, I notice she’s wearing her comfort clothes. Other people might have a comfort food, like ice cream or tiny bananas. For Tani, it’s all about soft fabrics, loose pants and butter-yellow sweaters. Yellow means she needs a hug. The dark circles under her eyes confirm my diagnosis.
We watch each other drink our tea in silence. I can tell by the sparks in her eyes that she wants to interrogate me about what she may or may not have seen or heard in the hallway. Not to mention what I may or may not have admitted with my cheek pressed to the bathroom floor as the sun came up.
I have a few questions of my own, but now isn’t the time for that. Because of that yellow sweater.
I set down my cup and turn to face her more fully, opening up my arms. “I’m glad you’re here, T-Diddy.”
In seconds, her cup joins mine and she’s in my arms, face buried in my chest as she finally lets go.
I’ve only seen her like this a few times. Once was after a boy she had a crush on pretended to ask her to a dance, only to mock her in front of his friends for being that “one-legged Indian.”
Don’t worry, I got four of my toughest brothers to help me beat the piss out of him.
The second was after her aunt died. She’d left a letter that Tani wouldn’t let me read, but after a night of crying, she agreed to be my business partner and started socking money away like a squirrel preparing for winter.
The last time was when she found out that she couldn’t have kids of her own. It was a bad month, but she came out of it with a new enthusiasm for our company and a quiet resignation that I wished I could snap her out of.
This time is different. Coming here wasn’t the plan, and Tani doesn’t do whims. “Are you ready to tell me yet?”
“No.”
I kiss the silky crown of hair that always smells like citrus and cinnamon. “How about now?”
“No.”
I pause, pressing my lips together. “Ready yet?”
She whacks my chest and pulls away from me with a glare. “You can’t give me a minute? What about you? Are you ready to tell me about what happened last night with the delectable neighbor?”
Delectable? “Don’t you read my texts? I went to Finn’s with Elliot. His mother yelled at him and he needed a bro beer.”
She snickers. “Is that what you’re calling it? He’s almost too handsome, isn’t he? Too masculine. It’s not right.”
I know what she’s doing. “That’s all you’ve got?”
“He’s really nice, which I didn’t expect. He was so worried about you he didn’t want to leave. We talked a lot while you were…” She points upstairs, her cheeks puffing out before she mimes being violently ill. “You know.”
Yes. I know.
“Great. I’m super glad you were both here to share that experience with me.” I cross my arms over my chest after my A+ sarcasm. “You’re stalling.”
Tanisha flops back on the cushions and picks at a nonexistent piece of lint on her pants. “I’m moving here like you asked.”
“Excellent. And when is this joyous event taking place?”
“Now. My house is already up for sale. Boxes should be coming tomorrow.” She sneaks a peak in my direction. “Only a few because I’m not a hoarder. And they’re all labeled.”
Now? “You’re selling your house and you’ve already packed? What the hell happened since the last time I talked to you? Does this have anything to do with Arush?”
Her oldest brother is my least favorite Chahal. A bloviating mass of penile dysfunction, always criticizing Tani for not living up to the family standard. It’s usually confined to family dinners, but when she doesn’t answer, I know it’s escalated.