Malachi and I

sp; “Wait!” I reached out to him mid-step.

“What now?!”

Forgive him, he has a fever.

Clamping my mouth closed I shook my head. He merely rolled his eyes and continued on his way up towards his room.

Reaching into the back pocket of the ever-so-stylish late 90s high-waisted jeans with the hole in the knee that I now wore, I took out my phone and texted what I wanted to say instead.

MALACHI

Happy Birthday! It’s why I said wait. I wanted to say it to you but I get that I’m probably not making it all that happy. Also about your mom’s clothes…I’m sorry for going through your stuff. I kinda ripped my pants moving you onto the couch. And before you say I’m a klutz remember I was moving dead weight in skinny jeans! :D Lol. Yeah but thanks for all of this. Starting tomorrow I’m going to be much more professional. We’ll get the book done! Lastly, as I said, I’m your biggest fan and run your fansite. I decided to replace the site with a countdown to your birthday and told everyone to reflect on why they are fans, then send videos of their thoughts, it’s live now. Thank god I set it before my laptop was stolen! Here’s the link… www.LordNationOnline.com/LoveyouMalachi01/HB_wishes

Part of me, the suppressed egotistical part of me, was tempted to look. But the rest of me knew that Li-Mei would be among the messages and I didn’t want anything else to trigger a memory. If her rings alone could do that, then what could a video do?

Closing her message I realized something else—she now had my number.

“…this life,” I whispered as I contemplated whether or not I should save her number. I was just about to hit delete when Alfred’s call came in. Relaxing, I answered.

“You’re still alive.”

“So are you. Thirty-two missed calls though? I’m a little touched, Malachi.” He chuckled and strangely sounded much better.

“What happen to you?”

“This and that but the drugs they gave seem to be helping actually.”

“So how do I return your granddaughter?”

“Aye, she nursed you back to health didn’t she?”

“She put an ice-patch on my head, which has left a strange red rectangular mark behind, and—”

“And she ripped her jeans lifting you onto the couch.”

She’d told him that too? “Honestly, does she not have any filter? Or the ability to stay on her feet—”

“Give her some slack you ungrateful little …” He sighed. “She’s shy around new people so she tends to either do too much or freeze up. Besides, it doesn’t help that she doesn’t know how to treat you.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means she knows I basically raised you after your mother passed. So you’re like…cousins.”

“Cousins?”

“Exactly! To her you’re like a long-lost successful cousin and she wants you to like her.”

“And you know this how?”

“She said so when I called.”

She’d said so? Of course. Us, cousins…The more I thought about it the more I actually felt a little relieved. “At least she isn’t in love with me...”

“Yes, because you’re so easy to love and women are falling at your feet on a daily basis.”

“Your sarcasm is unappreciated.”

He laughed…but it was followed by that cough again. He coughed so loudly that even though he pulled the phone from his ear I could hear him just as clearly.