It’s quiet, her looking at me and me looking at Mai.
“Don’t keep Jamal waiting,” I tell her, my voice even. “I don’t want you to be late.”
“Ezra, it’s nothing.”
“Right. You better go.”
She dips to kiss Mai’s cheek. “I’ll check on you guys tomorrow.”
“Thanks,” I say, giving her a smile that I know she knows isn’t real.
Mona’s heavy sigh speaks for her before she heads out toward the back exit.
As soon as the kitchen door closes behind her, I pick up my phone, my finger hovering over Kimba’s contact. I look down at Mai as if she might stop me before it’s too late. “I’m gonna regret this, huh, little girl?”
I dial anyway.
It rings four times and I’m formulating the message I’ll leave on Kimba’s voicemail when she picks up.
“Ezra?”
Her live voice throws me for a second.
“Uh, yeah. Tru, hey.”
I sound about as awkward as I felt at our middle-school dance. I just call her out of the blue like this? Like we talk every day? We don’t. We haven’t.
“Everything okay? Noah? The baby?” She pauses to clear her throat. “Aiko?”
“They’re sick. I mean, Mai’s been sick, but her fever broke. Aiko just got whatever Mai had, I guess. Noah’s Teflon.”
“Of course he is.” Her laugh is low and husky, familiar and missed. “And you? Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I’m fine. Who’s Israel Hammond?”
That was not subtle.
“Oh. Well, Iz and I—”
“Oh, it’s Iz? That’s what you call him?”
That was not low-key anything.
“That’s what all his friends call him, yes,” she says, her voice slowing, stiffening. “Did you want to ask me something, Ezra?”
“I saw a post on Instagram.”
“The Shade Room? Yeah. I heard about it. Somehow, I didn’t peg you as a Shade Room kinda guy.”
“I’m not.” I pause, give myself a second to get my shit together better. “Are you seeing him? Or…do you want to see him?”
“I’m not seeing him, no. Our interests intersect, and we’ve known each other for years. He has a girlfriend.”
“The Shade Room didn’t mention that.”
“He’s very…private.” She chuckles. “I actually think he’s a little self-conscious about it. She’s younger than he is and used to be his TA back in the day.”
I’d feel like an idiot if it wasn’t for the fact that my impulsive, jealous phone call means I get to talk to her.