23. Clarissa

I pullup to Rissa’s shop, and I’m still in awe. She worked so hard to get here, and every time I see that glass with her name, I get giddy. But my mood from yesterday still lingers. I can’t put my finger on where the issue lies. Maybe I’m just restless in preparation for the wedding, or maybe it’s the concern that I should be doing more with my life.

If you listen to Tyson for any more than ten minutes, it’s clear the exciting life he’s lived. Hell, Rissa is the same, and even Tyree has a great career with travel perks too. I don’t know. She always tells me her job isn’t that glamorous, but she literally rubs elbows with celebrities. I’ve never cared as much about my career. I was fine googling IT issues and dealing with repetitive tasks, but I don’t know. Sometimes, I feel stuck, I guess.

Tyson was a huge help for a little while, though. He took my mind off those nagging questions rolling around my skull. So, instead of questioning my existence and what my focus should be, I smelled the most beautiful tulips. I dipped my toe in an oasis of colorful roses…metaphorically, and it was amazing.

I grab my purse and walk into the store. Light vanilla notes fill my nose, and I wave to Jonathan, who is speaking on the phone in the front. He nods but moves on with his conversation, something about fall dates booked and winter being the next option. I smile because I love that for my friend. Sure, it means we can’t hang out as much, but I’ll get over it. It’s why I’m stopping by the shop anyway. I’m off for the rest of the day, and we’ve been missing each other, so she’s dragging me along to run errands with her and then we’ll grab lunch.

I wave to the other staff. About five people are huddling next to mannequins with pins in their mouths and fabric pinched in their fingers. Measuring tapes are slung around their necks, and their focus is immovable.

I knock on Rissa’s door in the back but push it open before she responds, “Heffa, I didn’t say come in.”

“But you were going to,” I say, plopping down on her pink leopard print chair.

Like her home, her office is a collage of fabrics, textures, and sparkles. Her clothes aren’t as flashy, but the combinations grab your attention. She might wear a hoodie with a frilly skirt and combat boots or joggers with a button-up blouse and heels. It’s always unexpected but gorgeous, so today is no different. She’s wearing a military-style jacket that is a little baggy, with a bralette top, shorts, and ankle boots. Her legs are crossed as she sits behind her glass desk, typing on her computer. Her monitor is turquoise with a variety of dresses, pants, and shirts decals adorning it.

“Let me just finish this, and then we can go.”

I nod but don’t speak as I throw my head back. A crystal chandelier hangs from the ceiling that she searched high and low for. I remember it was on backorder for four weeks. I scanned the vinyl album covers framed and positioned perfectly along the wall. She has all the classics over the decades.

“Okay, and we can go,” she says, moving to stand.

I stand too, and she gathers her purse, a medium-sized box, and a small bag.

“Where to first?”

“Post office, bank, lunch.”

“I must be losing it because why am I doing this on my day off?”

She nudges my shoulder and pushes the box into my arms. “Because you love me.”

We walk to the front, and the five employees remain in their spots, sewing details onto what must be a gown for an award show or gala. It’s midnight blue and has strategically placed sheer panels, with precious gems adorning the skirt portion.

Jonathan comes up to Rissa and starts talking. “I completed the scheduling for Angela and Meg, but we need to talk about your vision for the Spring collection.”

Rissa nods and stops walking. “That’s fine. I need to run a few errands and grab lunch with Lis. Put something on the schedule,” she says before moving closer and lowering her voice. “Watch the group; please make sure their stitching is correct. Also, I think Angela mentioned stopping by, so keep DeMarcus in the back. I can’t have another fainting episode.”

I furrow my brows, trying to piece together who she’s talking about. When she sees my face, she rolls her eyes and whispers, “Ms. Angela.”

Seeing as how I almost faint just hearing the prospect of breathing the same air as her, I can’t fault DeMarcus for losing his cool.

“You know I will,” Jonathan says with a wave. His hair is in his signature barrel curls and reaches past his shoulders. A thick beard frames his face and his lips.

“Skin. I just want your skiiin,” I whine with a frown.

“Says the gorgeous chocolate drop.” He winks, and I laugh. My complexion is nice, but I always make it a point to show his skin love. It’s too beautiful not to mention. We wave to everyone and leave.

I dump the package in the back and hop into the driver’s seat as Rissa gets in on the passenger side.

“So, what’s been up with you? You haven’t called me for wedding stuff in weeks, which might as well be months,” Rissa says as she buckles her seatbelt.

I buckle up and put the car in gear, reversing from the parking spot. “Nothing much. I’ve been feeling a little blah lately.”

“Blah? What happened?”

“That’s the thing, it’s not rooted in anything. Like work is good. Nobody is breathing down my neck about all my days off.” I snicker under my breath because I barely gave twenty-four hours before I requested today off. “Dad is retired, and they’re in Paris. Your work is awesome, and you’re styling the Mrs. Bassett,” I say, putting the car in drive and taking off down the road. “Maybe I’m tired.”

I shrug. Rissa looks over, and I turn from traffic to meet her frown. “You’re not getting sick, are you?”

“No, I don’t think so. I’m sure it will be fine. Soon, I’ll be back to my shenanigans and calling you for gift bag assembly.” I dart my focus to her before it’s back on the road.

“Girl, ugh,” she groans, and I laugh.

“You knew what this was, baby girl.”

She laughs, and I shake my head. As I’m driving, my phone buzzes.

“You have a text from Tyson. Would you like to read the message?”the stilted, robotic voice of my handsfree says.

“Read the message,” I command.

“Hey, Issa. I just wanted to check and see how you were feeling. If you want me to scoop you up for the botanical gardens again, I’m in. Also, I found a dope ice cream shop, and before you rant about it being February and too cold for ice cream, this place is divine. They have lavender chocolate, and I know you’ll love it.”

It’s funny to hear the robotic voice read Tyson’s words, but he has me intrigued with that suggestion. I’m not an ice cream connoisseur by any means, but this place sounds fancy, and I love it. Enjoying good food is probably a love language for me.

“Wow, that sounds good,” I say, nodding along to the idea. It takes root and solidifies in front of me. Maybe when Rissa and I finish lunch, I can meet Tyson.

“Y’all going with just the two of you?” Rissa asks with her brows dipped low.

“Yeah, I told you I was feeling blah yesterday. And I know you’re busy with the shop, and Tyree was at work, but when I mentioned it to Tyson, he took me to that botanical garden close to downtown.” I shrug. That ended up being the highlight of my day.

“You’re my girl, and I know you’d never do anything questionable, but that doesn’t seem odd to you?” she asks, turning her body toward mine. I shift my gaze from the traffic to her and tilt my head.

“Uh, no. He’s just really nice. Plus, he helps with wedding stuff too, so I’m not bugging you during peak hours.”

“I guess it’s my brain. Tyson is fine as hell, and he has that accent. But you’re right, he’s just nice, I guess.”

I narrow my eyes as I focus on the road and mull over her words.

Is this weird?

No, it’s not weird.

He’s just nice. He’s Tyree’s friend, so it makes sense that he would want to get to know me since he’s been gone for so long.

I bite my lower lip and squeeze the steering wheel, finally pressing a button to reply to the message.

“That sounds great, but I’m running errands with Rissa. Maybe another day.”

The robotic voice asks if I want to send the message, and I say yes.

Is it weird? Now I’m torn. The ice cream sounded amazing, but maybe I should wait until Tyree is free.

Rissa looks at me, and I return her gaze, feeling the hole she’s been burning into the side of my head.

“I’m not being serious, Lis. I’ve known you since you were ten. You should know I didn’t mean anything by it. Plus, Tyree is your person. Please don’t get in your head about it.” I nod but don’t speak as she continues.

“Do you think I moved too fast?” I ask, biting harder into my lip.

“What? Where is this coming from?”

I groan and squeeze my neck. “I think I’m tired.”

“No, tell me how you feel. You don’t have to act like you’re fine if you’re not.”

“It just seems like everyone has found their lane. They’re traveling or at great jobs. I don’t know. What if I’m making a mistake?”

“Lis, first of all, nothing is stopping you from doing what you want. You and Tyree can travel at any time. You could get a different job. I didn’t mean to say anything to upset you. I wasn’t serious.”

“I know, it’s not that. Ugh, I don’t know!” I release a breath.

“Lis.”

“I’m just in my head. Really, I think I’m tired. I didn’t get good sleep last night, and I’m still finalizing wedding stuff. I really think that’s what it is.”

I pull up to the post office, but she doesn’t move to exit. “Lis,” she says, grabbing my hand and pulling my focus. “You know I’m here if you want to talk about anything. If you’re having second?—”

I cut her off, already shaking my head. “No, I promise it’s not that. I love Tyree. I even get along with his family. Who else has future in-laws as great as them? I’m just tired.”

She squeezes my hand and nods. “Okay.”

With one last look at me, she grabs the package and runs into the post office. My phone dings, and instead of listening, I pull up the message to read.

I smile and press the phone to my chin. I start to type I’m fine but delete the message.

Tyson: Damn, well, that’s cool. Maybe another time.

Me: Sure.

Tyson: Are you still feeling blah? I really think ice cream would clear that right up. No pressure.

Me: Lol, rain check.

Tyson: Absolutely.

A few minutes later, Rissa comes running back, and I pull out to drive to our next location. She has her weekly deposits to drop off, and then we’re off to lunch.

“Did I tell you about Derrek’s surprise?” she says, scooting back in her seat.

I sit up straighter and dart my eyes over. “Do tell.”

That quickly, my weird mood and doubts are pushed to the side, and I’m grateful. I was just in my head about it. Rissa takes over, telling me about Derrek setting up a date night at this new restaurant she’s been dying to try. It’s all too easy to get lost in her words and feelings about Derrek and forget about the melancholy mood I’ve been immersed in recently. I’m sure it’s fatigue. And for a minute, I think it might be true.