“You’ll love him. Everyone loves him even if they don’t want to.”
“He sounds like a real character, but then, he’d have to be to handle you,” Mama says, a note of pride in her voice I don’t think I’ve ever recognized before. She’s missed so much over the years that at times, it felt like she didn’t notice me pursuing my dreams.
“He’s . . .” I pause, unsure how to describe Canon in a way that would make Mama understand why he’s so special. “He’s one of a kind. Hopefully you’ll get to meet him soon.”
“Well, I’m glad he makes you rest.”
I set my small suitcase on the bed so I can finish packing. I’m waiting for Canon to pick me up. I’ve tried to subtly give him space, pleading fatigue every time he’s wanted to see me this week after we finished shooting. He insisted we spend this weekend together.
“Mama, I need to go.”
“Okay. I’ll look at the information to get tested. Promise me you’ll talk to Terry soon. It feels strange, me knowing all this and not saying anything.”
“I want to talk to her myself.” Want is the wrong word, but I don’t need Mama asking for me.
“Then talk to her, Neevah. This thing with the two of you has gone on long enough. I want my girls to be sisters again.”
“Well, I don’t think a kidney will fix all our problems, Mama.”
“No, but maybe it’ll make you face them.”
When your mama drops the mic . . .
“Okay. Give me until tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow. I love you, Neev.”
“Love you, too, Mama.”
Takira walks across the hall to my room, slipping something into the suitcase open at the end of my bed. “How’s your mom?”
“Worried. What did you put in my suitcase?”
“Lube,” she says with a grin. “You’re lucky I didn’t yell out, ‘I’m packing this lube for you’ while your mama was on the phone.”
“My mom has no clue about lube.”
Takira falls onto my bed and chuckles. “Girl, I bet your mama knows all about lube. Your daddy passed a long time ago. Now you know your mama got her some at some point in the last twenty years.”
“Ewwww, David!” I scream, pulling from our Schitt’s Creek vernacular.
“We need to binge the last season, and you will thank me for that lube later.”
“I’m taking your lube because I want to normalize women carrying their own lube,” I say, but give her a wicked glance. “But we’ve never needed it.”
“Ewww, David!” She pretends to gag. “You will refrain from telling me how wet you get. Ma’am, boundaries.”
We laugh and I fall onto the bed beside her, forgetting for a few moments that I’m sick and just enjoying being alive. It feels like a regular day with my best friend. Except my suitcase is not just packed with lube, but with a battalion of bottles, meds to stabilize me until I can get a kidney.
“You know, if we don’t find a kidney soon,” I say, staring up at the ceiling, “I may have to go on dialysis.”
“I know.” Takira reaches for my hand. “If that happens, we’ll get through it. Whatever. I got you, Neev.”
“I know you do.”
I’ve been holding it together. Going through the motions of my life. Distracting myself with the work I’ve always dreamt of doing, but as soon as it all stops, the life-altering reality comes crashing back in on me. I’m racing against the clock in some ways, but will manage this condition in some shape, form, or fashion, forever.
Tears prick my eyes and leak from the corners. I swipe at them quickly because if I start now, I won’t stop. I’m at my emotional tipping point. In a matter of four months, I’ve starred in my first movie, fallen in love, and been diagnosed with a chronic illness that requires an organ transplant. I’m reeling. It’s a lot for me to process. I can only imagine how Canon is actually doing.