Mina turns her head from the receipts on the counter and smiles at Suna. The pen drops from Mina’s hand as she steps toward the fan. Together, Mina’s voice joins Suna’s in a chorus of ahhhhs, ohhhs, and hmmms.
Soft laughter at the back of the store travels forward until Ysrael emerges from behind a row of plastic-shrouded clothes. He joins them at the fan, adding his raspy tenor. He leads them along a valley of eeees and zzzzzzs.
Suna hears their voices, their laughter merging together. Their shoulders touching, heads tipped together, each trying not to break the circle even as their faces ache from the effort of keeping back crumbling laughter. She hears them across her oceans until the voices seem to be coming from within her head, her world. She closes her eyes and she holds the moment, holds their voices, their faces, behind her eyelids. Suspended against the darkness. The three of them like that. Just like that.
mina
I PRETENDED TO BE just passing by. Another trip to the bathroom or to the back office for something I forgot. And even as I realized how obvious it must be, how ridiculous I must look, I couldn’t help myself. I had to see him. If only for that nod or that smile. There wasn’t much we could say to each other under Uhmma’s watchful gaze. But those moments, those times that I saw him, made everything bearable. The heat, the rude customers who double-checked every receipt finding mistakes where there weren’t any, Uhmma looking over my shoulder to see what I was studying, and even Suna. Suna, who was always at the edge of my vision. Suna, who always seemed to be standing behind me, watching. When Ysrael looked up from the press, his forehead still bunched with concentration, his eyes searching for mine. When Ysrael smiled for me, lightness brushed my skin. Made me so giddy, I had to walk on my tiptoes.
Only Uhmma could bring me back.
Mina-ya, Uhmma said, approaching me at the front counter. She had a men’s dark blue suit draped over her arm.
I clinched my jaw in recognition.
Take this, Uhmma said and held it out to me. Jonathon has an important dinner tomorrow night with some people from Stanford.
But it’s not closing time. Who will watch the front? I protested.
Uhmma waved me away. Do not worry, Uhmma said. I will do some mending up front until it is time to close. Now hurry. I told Jonathon that you would be there shortly. And do not worry about coming back to the store. We will meet you at home. Make sure to ask Jonathon if he has any more advice for you about college. Make sure you ask all your questions now before he leaves.
I yanked the suit out of Uhmma’s hands.
Yah, yah, Uhmma yelled. Be gentle. You will wrinkle it.
Jonathon’s black convertible was parked in their driveway. I parked on the street and sat in the car, listening to the last of the song playing on the radio. My hand lingered on the key. I could just leave, I thought. Throw the suit away and pretend I had delivered it. Jonathon had other suits. He would live. I turned off the engine. I just couldn’t risk what he might do to make it up to me.
I rang the doorbell and held the suit out in front of me.
The door opened.
“Hey, Mina,” Jonathon said. He was dressed for the beach. Long, baggy surfer shorts and a blue T-shirt.
“Here,” I said and thrust the suit into his hands. I turned on my heel to leave.
“Wait,” he said and stepped forward.
I froze.
“Don’t you want to come in?”
“No,” I tossed over my shoulder hoping to sound casual. “Uhmma needs me to watch the store.”
“Come on, Mina,” Jonathon said. “You don’t even have time for a cone?”
I sighed. All that time we studied together, we always made time for an ice cream break.
“Come on, Mina. I got your favorite flavor.”
I scanned the skies as though looking for rain.
“Look,” Jonathon said carefully. “I’m sorry about what I said last time. I just want us to go back to being friends. Can we do that?”
I peeked back over my shoulder to see his face. He smiled.
“Here,” he said and stepped back into the house. “I’ll leave the door open and you can come in when you’re ready. Or you can just leave and that’ll be it.”
His footsteps receded into the house.
I quickly walked down the path toward my car. Was it going to be that easy? I could walk away and that was it? I stopped. Did he really want us to go back to how it had been before? Would he really let us? I thought of our first study sessions, when all he seemed to do was laugh and imitate my math teacher at the board, spit flying everywhere. I wanted to believe Jonathon. Wanted to believe we could just step away, unharmed, from this car wreck of a friendship that we had created. I turned around.
I stepped into the cool of the house and closed the door behind me. I could hear Jonathon opening and closing the cupboards.
I walked into the kitchen.
“Hi,” he said, closing another set of cupboard doors. “I can’t find any cones. Would you settle for just a bowl?”
I sat down
