A Friend Indeed

*JAMIRA*

On the drive home, I had my share of things to think about, and my head was spinning. What was I going to do? Was I really ready to leave Chris? And for Eric? How had things become so complicated? How long do I have before things start to implode?

I tried turning up the music, but Eric’s words kept circling my head.

We’re not even together and barely talking, and he wants me to leave Chris? Let’s be honest, I didn’t even need him to tell me that to consider it. What Chris and I had was good and steady until recently when things started to fall apart. It’s been like a cascade of one messed-up thing after another that started with the death of his brother.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t blame him at all; shit like that happens, but if he hadn’t passed away, would Chris have still gone on to do the things he did?

I wanted clarity more than anything right now, and it feels as though I’m not getting any closer to getting it.

But Eric…Eric was something else entirely. He made me feel good and safe, like I can let my hair down and just breathe. Like the only thing that matters is his focus on me. He has this look in his eyes that drives me wild. It’s not quite hunger or adoration, but rather something in between.

Oh my god, that’s when my gears started to shift, and I kept returning to the same conclusion: I have feelings for him. I sat with that for only a moment before my phone rang. It was Ayana.

“Hello?”

“Hey girl, um… you think you can come over? I don’t think I can be alone tonight.”

“Alone? Isn’t your mom…”

Before I could finish, she interrupted me with a cracked voice, “I’ll tell you when you get here, please.”

She hung up before I could say anything else. I didn’t know what was going on, but it didn’t matter. My friend needed me, and I was going to be there. With that being said, I pressed the gas a little harder to get home and pack my things quickly to get to her as soon as possible.

When I got across the threshold, I did exactly that. I quickly gathered everything I’d need for at least the next two days and left a note for Chris.

I know I could’ve just texted or called, but this seemed more… personal. Like in that moment, this made sense. Also, I wasn’t sure he’d even check his phone. He rarely does unless it’s multiple messages or calls, but I didn’t have time for that.

I raced to Ayana’s house, turning a 30-minute drive into a 10-minute one. I’m surprised I didn’t get pulled over.

Once I got there, Ayana met me at the door, bawling her eyes out. They were puffy and red as if they were replaced by tomatoes instead. She sat on the couch, holding her knees in her arms close to her chest. Her hair was all over the place instead of neatly combed into her usual bun. Her clothes looked tethered like she’d been wearing them for days. It was when I saw the trash on the floor that I realized this wasn’t something that just happened. Whatever was happening to her had been coming to a head for some time.

Taking in everything, I stepped closer and hugged her close. It was all I could think to do in that moment. No talking or anything, just support. After a while, I couldn’t ignore the pungent smell coming from her pores.

“Yana.”

“What?”

“I know you’re sad and all, but you funky girl. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

She stepped back half offended, then caught a whiff of her own armpits. The look on her face told me she understood what I’d meant.

I went upstairs and cleaned out the bathtub to prepare her a warm bubble bath with her favorite lavender bath bomb and honey soap. I also lit a eucalyptus candle so she could relax and ease her mind.

I helped to ease her in and went to find her some clean pajamas. I brought her the clothes, a towel, and a washcloth. When she became settled, I went downstairs to make her some food. I made her barbecue chicken and mixed vegetables with a dinner roll. I covered the plate so it would be ready for her when she got out of the bathroom.

Next, I went to clean up the living room and the dining room areas. There was trash piled up and stains on the floor and table as if something was spilled, but nobody cared to clean it up.

Ayana finally emerged from upstairs looking refreshed and renewed. She stretched her arms above her head and sniffed the air.

“Whew, I needed that. Something smells delicious.”

I pointed to the kitchen.

“Your food is waiting for you.”

“Oh my god, seriously? You’re the best!”

I followed behind her and lit the stove once more to brew some tea. She’s clean, but she needed rest, so I put chamomile and vanilla tea bags in the pot.

When she finished her food, I handed her a cup of tea and sent her to the living room to watch one of her favorite movies. I cleaned the dishes and made a cup for myself, then joined her.

She looked so tired that it made my heart hurt. She wasn’t her usual vibrant and glowing self. Whatever happened was dark and sinister, something not of her own doing, but definitely something she had to deal with.

Ayana stayed with her mother, and not seeing her yet made me think something had happened to her. Her absence never seemed to bother her, but something really set Ayana off about it.

Ultimately, giving in to curiosity, I finally found the courage to ask.

“So you want to talk about what’s going on?”

She shook her head. “Do we have to?”

“I mean, look around you, Yana, this ain’t your normal living conditions.”

I understood all too well her not wanting to talk about it because it was too hard or too fresh to put into words, but again, this was not her. She was also stubborn, that we had in common.

With the heaviest sigh I’d ever heard, she began speaking.

“I knew she was sick, but it only got worse over the past few weeks.”

“Your mom, right?”

She nodded her head and continued. “I tried to help and reach out to her doctors and take her to her appointments, and nothing seemed to help.”

“What’s her diagnosis?”

“Cancer,” she said on the brink of crying again.

“They say it’s stage 4 and progressing rapidly.”

I didn’t know what to say so I stayed silent in hopes that something comforting would come up.

“What am I going to do without my mama Mira! She’s all I have.”

“Are there any more options?”

“Unless it just decides one day not to take her the fuck out it’s nothing more they can do but just continue chemo and keep her comfortable as possible.”

I thought to hug her again but instead I picked up a brush and started to brush her hair. The soft steady strokes always seemed to help her during the times she felt life had gotten her down.

The tension seemed to lift off her little by little with each stroke of the brush. Her eyelids began to drop so I knew she’d be out soon. I reached over the edge of the sofa and placed a blanket on top of her. She smiled softly, something barely noticeable.

Once I was sure she was sleeping I slipped out from the couch and took a shower and prepared for bed myself. I had a lot to unpack from Chris to Eric and now my best friend on the verge of possibly losing her mother and her mind while still holding on to hope.

This was one hell of a Friday.