Chapter Fifteen

Pasha

"Aye, Ms. P, let me show you this new dance!"

I sat out back in the break area at the grocery store where I worked part time. I'd been here for about two months now, and I was still getting used to working with a bunch of kids who had after-school jobs. They were so different from my girls and me at their age. All they wanted to do was take pictures and videos or dance. I couldn't be annoyed with them because they were just having fun.

Tucking my phone away, I looked up at Marshawn, the bag boy working my line today.

"Go on," I said.

He put on some music I was familiar with and started moving and gyrating. I covered my mouth to stifle a laugh. The song he was listening to was something from my era of music, but the dance was nothing like the original.

"Whatchu laughing at, Ms. P?" he asked, grinning.

"Marshawn, where did you learn this dance?"

"The internet. It's popular. You gotta get with the times, Ms. P."

"First of all, that dance is so far left from the original. I'm not sure what that was, but it wasn't it. Second, exactly how old do you think I am?"

He shrugged. "You ain't no spring chicken, as my grandma would say."

I scoffed. "Whatever. I may not be a spring chicken, but I'm not old enough to be your mother."

"My mama is thirty-five, and I'm sixteen. She was barely old enough to be my mama when she had me."

"Well, that's not my business. Come on, break's over. We only have about an hour left until closing."

He kissed his teeth. "All right. Don't start speed-sliding me those groceries like you do, either," he said, grinning as he opened the back door.

"Well, don't bag so slow."

We headed back to our register. While I had no customers, I took the time to straighten up a little and wipe down so I didn't have too much to do after counting down my register. Marshawn stood in the bagging area, scrolling through videos on his phone and trying to copy dance moves. I shook my head. He was so easily entertained.

"Pasha?"

I heard my name being called. When I looked up, embarrassment flooded my face. Raymond's best friend Carlos and his wife Emily were at my register. We used to have dinner with them at least twice a week. I'd been on vacation with these people. They knew things about me, and seeing them right now was overwhelming. Still, I was at work, and I had a job to do. Pulling back my emotions, I began scanning their items.

"Did you find everything okay?" I asked, avoiding eye contact.

"Yes..." Carlos answered slowly.

"Do you have a loyalty card?"

His wife handed hers over, and I scanned it before handing it back to her.

"Um... We heard what happened," she said quietly. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't," I said firmly.

"We didn't know," she continued. "It wasn't until he brought her over for dinner that we even had a clue things were over between you two. We've cut contact with him, Pasha."

"Well, I hope you didn't do that on my behalf."

"We did it on principle and morals. He was wrong on all fronts, and we can't condone that type of behavior. You were always such a sweetheart. I'm sure you're no saint, but I do know you didn't deserve that. If we knew, you would have been welcomed in our home."

I paused for a moment, finally able to look at them. Their eyes held pity, but more than that, they were sincere.

"Thank you," I said softly.

"Are things okay for you?" Carlos asked.

"Things are fine. I'm taking care of myself."

"Do you need anything?"

"No. I may not have everything I want, but I have everything I need."

Emily smiled. "Good for you. If you ever need anything, please... don't hesitate to reach out."

I knew I would never do that, but I decided to appease them so they could move on out of my line. I didn't feel like talking about my not-so-recent past with them. Not here. Not now. Probably not ever.

"Thank you," I said, sliding the last of their items across the scanner. "Your total is forty-four twenty-three."

He swiped his card, and Marshawn handed them their bags.

"Take care, Pasha."

I nodded, once again avoiding their eyes. It wasn't until they were gone that I could finally breathe again. I expelled a deep breath as I clutched my stomach.

"You okay, Ms. P?" Marshawn asked. I knew he'd been listening.

"I'm fine."

The next thing I knew, he was beside me, wrapping his arms around me in a brief hug.

"What was that for?" I asked, wiping my eyes.

"You just looked like you needed a hug."

"Thank you, Marshawn. That was really sweet."

"No problem. Aye, yo, Ms. P?"

"Yeah?"

"For what it's worth... Any man that would leave you is a damn fool. You fly as hell."

I shook my head. "Thank you."

"You know I'll be eighteen in a couple of years—"

I laughed out loud. "Not gonna happen! When you're eighteen, I'll be thirty. That might be grown, but not grown enough."

He grinned as he headed back to the bagging station. "It made you laugh, though. See, I'm useful."

"I guess you are. Get back to work."

We worked with minimal noise for the rest of my shift. Five minutes before it was time for me to go, I shut down my register and counted out. After taking everything to the back, I clocked out and went out front to wait for my ride. Avyn had to work late, so I scheduled a car to pick me up while I was on break. I had only been waiting a few minutes when they rolled around to the front of the grocery store. I quickly climbed into the backseat and strapped on my seat belt. I was set for at least a twenty-minute ride back to my apartment. Soft music played in the background.

I scrolled through my phone, checking messages from the girls. They'd been in our group chat trying to make plans for this weekend. I wasn't sure if I would be in the mood to do much, but if they wanted to go out, I might oblige them. I hadn't gone out with them in so long, but I hadn't forgotten how they liked to party. These days, I was more of a designated driver. I wouldn't drink excessively but wouldn't ruin their fun.

As I backed out of the message thread, I saw the thread belonging to Callum. I'd texted him so that he could have my number, but we had yet to have a conversation outside of the one we had this past Sunday. I smiled as I thought about that day. I'd really enjoyed his company, and even if it wasn't a good look, I took great satisfaction in watching him hem up Raymond. He could have easily walked away when he saw me, yet he chose to be an asshole—a disrespectful asshole at that. I couldn't feel bad about him continuously getting hands put on him.

I hovered over my keyboard for a moment before typing a short message and pressing send before I chickened out. A few seconds passed before the little bubbles populated on the screen.

Callum:Hey, beautiful. I'm happy to hear from you.

Me:How are you?

Callum:I'm alive. Not in the best headspace, but I'll be okay.

Me:What's wrong?

Instead of responding, he called me. When I answered, I could hear in his voice that something was bothering him.

"Hey, love," he said.

"Hey... What's the matter? You don't sound so good."

"I'm just dealing with a situation right now. Um... My mother's youngest brother died, and I'm struggling with whether I should go to the funeral."

"I'm so sorry."

"It's okay, really. I haven't seen that man in years. We haven't spoken since I was eighteen."

"Wow. Why not, if you don't mind my asking?"

"There was a big blowup over money my mom's side of the family thought they were entitled to when my parents died. It didn't have to go the way it did, but I overheard some things that had me looking at them sideways."

"That's horrible. Fighting instead of grieving?"

"That was the day I decided that my sister and I would be okay with just us. We didn't need people who weren't genuine with their motives. They would have spent that money and left us with nothing. My dad always told me I had to be cautious of certain family members. He had this discerning spirit about him. I guess growing up the way he did, he had to learn to be extra observant of those around him."

"It's sad that the people you think wouldn't do you like that are the very people that would do you like that."

"It is... but enough about me. How are you, beautiful? How was your day?"

"It was okay. I'm on my way home from work."

"Any plans for when you get there?"

"Just relaxing. I think I'm gonna light some candles, run me a nice bubble bath, and read a book. I haven't read in a while, and I just bought myself a Kindle. Maybe that will be my escape from reality for a little while."

"Nothing wrong with that. Hell, that sounds like a good idea."

I giggled. "I can't see you as a man who likes bubble baths."

He chuckled. "Maybe not the bubbles per se. But I will put some lavender oil in the water and turn on the jets. All I need after that is some music and a cigar, and I'm in chill mode."

"That's the vibe I'm going for tonight. Maybe not the cigar. I'll take a glass of wine, though."

"Don't get too tipsy by yourself, now."

I giggled. "I know my limit."

He was quiet for a moment. "It's good to hear your voice," he said softly. "I was beginning to think this friendship would be a figment of my imagination."

"Well, you said you were on my time."

"Always. You'll never have to worry about me pressuring you, Pasha. Your voice and feelings will always matter."

I teared up at the sound of that. I sniffled. "Thank you."

"No need to thank me."

"No... You don't know how much of a blessing you've been to me, Callum. Even as a stranger, you extended kindness, which is so rare nowadays. I feel in my heart that you are a good person... a good soul."

"I just try to put out what I want to get back. Nothing more, nothing less. My sister and my friends think I have this savior complex or something, but it's nothing like that. I just believe in showing the kind of love I wish someone had shown me when I needed it most."

I could tell he harbored a lot of pain from his past. I couldn't imagine losing both my parents as a teenager and then becoming a parent to my sibling. He was still a kid himself. Eighteen was barely an adult. He needed somebody to care for him. Somebody to stand up for him. Somebody to love him. His heart could have hardened after that experience. Instead, it had seemingly bloomed into the beautiful heart it is today.

We continued to talk as the car pulled up to my building. I climbed out and headed up to my floor.

"You're home?" he asked as I jiggled the keys in the lock and pushed the door open.

"Yes. I just walked in."

"I'm glad you made it safe. Do you work tomorrow?"

"No, I'm off all day. You?"

"I'm on uncle duty this week, so no work for me. I mean, I don't do real work anyway. The business basically runs itself, and my team handles the rest."

"Isn't that the best way to work?"

"Most of the time. I do enjoy my time with my niece, though. She keeps me on my toes."

"Do you want children?"

"One of these days. If the good Lord sees fit to send me a wife, I will give her as many as she allows me to. Would you... Would you ever want to try again?"

I swallowed hard as I lay back across my bed. "I don't know. I'm afraid. I know what happened to my son wasn't my fault, but that doesn't stop me from wondering if there was anything I could have done differently. I love children and want to be a mother, but having another baby would feel like I'm replacing him. I never really got to say goodbye the way I wanted to." I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting back tears. "I just don't know. Maybe with the right person, I would consider it."

"That's fair." He was quiet for a moment. "I should let you go. I'm sure you want to get out of your work clothes and relax a little."

"Yeah."

"Be good to yourself, Pasha. You aren't where you were. Always remember that. Good night, beautiful."

"Good night."

I disconnected the phone and tossed it on my bed. He was right. I wasn't where I had been. I wasn't there, and I couldn't allow my pain and fears to take me back there. I had to move on eventually, but how?