Chapter Thirteen
Ezra
“Our beans are better,” Noah whispers to me behind his small hand.
I spear a green bean tucked beneath the stuffed chicken breast and pop it into my mouth. “You’re right. Our garden is the bomb. We grow great veggies.”
We execute an exploding fist bump.
“You know my favorite kind of vegetables?” Mona asks beside me, spooning up a portion of mashed potatoes. “Free.”
The three of us laugh, as usual with Mona. The awards committee provided tickets for two guests. Noah was the obvious choice, and Mona since Aiko is out of town.
“Thanks for inviting me,” Mona says.
“Thanks for coming.”
“This is really an honor, Ezra. The whole staff is proud of you. Wait ’til your book comes out. You won’t be able to shut us up.”
I can’t help but feel proud, too. I’m writing a book about the YLA journey, and someone actually wants to publish it.
“I heard Kimba’s coming,” Mona says.
My head snaps around. “What?”
“Yeah, I ran into Kayla in the bathroom and she mentioned it. I haven’t seen them in years. We all kinda went our separate ways, huh?”
After Mom and I left, we spent the summer in New York with family. I went to camp and assumed we’d head back to Atlanta. Mom didn’t get to stay in New York for long. Before school started, my father accepted a job offer in Italy. Moving there was the best and worst thing for me. The best because even though I didn’t speak the language and it was a foreign country, I looked like many of the people. I blended in. No one asked my mother if I was adopted or stared at us when I was with my parents. I could breathe in Italy in a way I hadn’t felt free enough to do before, and it came just as I was becoming a young man—just when I needed it.
The worst was losing contact with Kimba. Her family moved, changed their phone number. This was before Facebook or Instagram. I had no idea how to get in touch with her, and with us in Europe, she had no way to get in touch with me. Mona told me later she didn’t bus in for high school, but stayed in her district, so she didn’t see Kimba anymore either.
“I wonder if she’ll actually show.” I sip my water and peruse the room slowly, searching each table and aisle for her. I’ve seen her on television a few times, but her partner, Lennix Hunter, now the First Lady, usually spoke on behalf of their clients. “It’s almost time to give out the awards.”
“Kayla said something about her flight out of D.C. being delayed.” Mona shrugs. “I think she’s taking a little time off and hanging here in Atlanta for a few weeks. Hopefully we can get together while she’s in town.”
I take another sip of water, disciplining my expression into impassivity. Inside, though, anticipation churns through my body. Kimba and I will be in the same state, maybe around each other, for the first time since we were thirteen years old.
“Whose flight is delayed?” Noah asks, taking a sip of the sweet tea.
“No more.” I point to his glass. “Water for the rest of the night.”
He crosses his eyes, which is his new thing he learned to do last week. “Okay, but whose flight?”
“Our friend Kimba,” Mona says. “We haven’t seen her in a long time.”
“The one we met at her daddy’s funeral?” Noah asks me.
> “Yeah, that’s the one,” I reply, surprised he remembers. Though Noah has the memory of an elephant, so I shouldn’t be.
“I hate I was out of town for the funeral,” Mona says. “I would have loved to pay my respects and to see Kimba again. Funny how people you’re so close to when you’re kids, you don’t even see for years and years. Decades even.”
It doesn’t feel funny to me. It feels tragic that the person I thought I’d know all my life is now a veritable stranger. Someone whose sentences I used to be able to finish. The few secrets I had at that age, Kimba kept. Now I don’t know her at all.
“It’s time.” Mona nods toward the stage where Kayla stands behind the podium.
It’s hard to reconcile this mature, almost staid woman and her closely cropped hair with the Kayla who used to show off her gold package Nissan Maxima all around our neighborhood.
“Good evening, everyone,” Kayla says, spreading a warm smile across the crowd. “I’m Kayla Allen-Greggs, executive director of the Allen Foundation. I hope you’ve enjoyed the night so far.”