Heart Bones

Ice cream actually sounds like heaven right now. I need something to cool me down. “I’d love some.”

Alana pulls a bowl out of the cabinet and I take a seat at the bar. She takes ice cream out of the freezer and begins scooping it into the bowl. “I’m sorry if we embarrassed you earlier.”

“It’s okay.”

Alana pushes the bowl of ice cream across the counter. I take a bite and it’s so good, I want to groan. But I stay quiet and eat it like ice cream has always been something I had access to. In reality, we never had it at our house. I learned not to keep much frozen stuff because when the power gets cut due to lack of payment, cleaning out a freezer of melted and rotten food is never fun.

“Can I ask you something?” Alana says.

I nod but keep the spoon in my mouth. I’m nervous for whatever it is she’s going to ask me. I just hope she doesn’t ask me about my mother. Alana seems nice and I’m not sure I can lie to her, but I certainly don’t want to tell her the truth right now.

“Are you Catholic?”

That’s not what I was expecting her to ask. “No. Why?”

She flicks a hand toward the ceiling. “Saw the picture of Mother Teresa in your room.”

“Oh. No. It’s just…it’s more like a souvenir.”

She nods, and then says, “So you aren’t religiously opposed to birth control?”

There it is. I look away from her, down to my ice cream. “No. But I’m not currently taking it. I’m not…you know.”

“Sexually active?” She says it so casually.

“Yeah. Not anymore, anyway.”

“Well,” she says. “That’s good to hear. But if you think you might find yourself in a situation this summer where that might change, it wouldn’t hurt to be prepared. I can make you an appointment.”

I take another bite of my ice cream to stall my response. She can probably see the flush in my cheeks.

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Beyah.”

“I know,” I say. “I’m just not used to talking about things like this with people.”

Alana casually drops her spoon in her empty bowl and walks it to the sink. “Your mother never talks to you about this stuff?”

I stab at my ice cream. “No.”

She turns around and looks at me quietly for a moment. “What’s she like?”

“My mother?”

Alana nods. “Yeah. Your father never knew her that well and I’ve been curious. She seems to have done a good job with you.”

I laugh.

I wish I wouldn’t have laughed because I can tell my reaction just filled Alana with a dozen more questions. I take a bite of my ice cream and shrug. “She’s nothing like you.”

I meant that as a compliment, but Alana seems confused by my answer. I hope she didn’t take it as an insult, but I don’t really want to get into it even deeper or I’ll end up telling her the truth. I want to save the news about my mother for my father. I feel like I should tell him before I tell Alana.

I definitely should have told him before I told Samson. But I can’t seem to control my secrets around Samson for some reason.

I push the half-eaten bowl of ice cream away from me. “I do want to get on the pill. Not that Samson and I are…” I look up at the ceiling and blow out a breath. “You know what I mean. I’d like to be safe, just in case.” God, this is hard to talk about. Especially with a woman who is essentially a stranger to me.

Alana smiles. “I’ll set up an appointment tomorrow. No biggie.”

“Thank you.”

Alana turns around to wash my bowl. I use the moment to escape to privacy upstairs. I’m about to walk into my bedroom when I hear Sara say, “Hold up, Beyah. I need a detailed report.”

I pause and look into her bedroom. Her door is open, and she and Marcos are sitting on her bed. She looks at Marcos and waves him away. “You can go home now.”

He looks like he isn’t used to being dismissed. “Okay, then.” He stands up, but leans over and kisses Sara. “Love you, even though you’re kicking me out.”

She smiles. “Love you too, but I have a sister now, so you have to share me.” She pats the mattress where Marcos was sitting and looks at me. “Come here.”

Marcos salutes me as he’s walking out of Sara’s bedroom.

“Close the door,” Sara says to Marcos.

I walk to her bed and sit on it. She pauses the television and then repositions herself on the bed so that she’s facing me.

“How’d it go?”

I lean against the headboard. “Your mother trapped me in the kitchen with ice cream and then talked to me about my sex life.”

Sara rolls her eyes. “Never fall for the ice cream trick. She uses it on me all the time. But I’m not referring to that and you know it. I saw you walking over to Samson’s house earlier.”