“We’re almost done,” Alonzo said from his seat on the front porch.
Amir was huffing and puffing, covered in sweat. He stopped to wipe his face with his t-shirt and then finally took it off. “We?” he asked, looking at the crates of records currently piling up in his garage. “Are we almost done? ‘Cause I’m certain I’m the only one hauling all these records.”
Alonzo shrugged. “I’m here for moral support. Only a couple more crates left.”
Amir couldn’t help but laugh. What else was he gon’ do besides shake his head and get back to work?
“Oh, hello, neighbor.”
Amir turned to see who Alonzo was speaking to. He’d lived in this condo for two years, and he’d never spoken to any of his neighbors. Mostly that was because no one had lived in the condo next to him for the same amount of time. But he was also rarely here. He worked too much and spent most of his free time in Oakland with Alonzo or the city with Maya to get to know his neighbors.
But clearly, that had been a mistake.
“Hello,” a woman he had never seen a day in his life replied to Alonzo. There was a confused smile on her face as if she wasn’t used to chatting with the neighbors either.
“Just moving in?” Alonzo asked. His question made Amir take notice of the broken-down boxes in her hands.
“Um…yes, sir.”
Alonzo waved a hand in the air. “Call me Alonzo. I’m just moving in too. This is my son’s place.” He gestured toward Amir, and her eyes turned to him and then widened.
“Oh,” she breathed.
“Amir, come help this nice young lady with her boxes.”
It took a few seconds for those words to sink in. When they did, Amir rushed forward, forgot the curb, and tripped. “Damn,” he mumbled in embarrassment.
“Language,” Alonzo warned.
“Pops, come on,” Amir whined while his neighbor covered her mouth, trying to stifle her laughter and failing.
When he made it to the bottom step of her porch, he smiled, and her eyes widened again, darting from his face to his bare chest and back again.
“Hey…neighbor,” Amir said. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he wanted to punch himself.
“Hey.”
“Um, my name’s Amir, and that’s my annoying father, Alonzo.”
“I already said all that,” Alonzo groaned.
She was still trying not to laugh at them or ogle him too openly. If Amir hadn’t been so damn physically tired — and Alonzo hadn’t been right there all in their business — he might have commented on that. He could not flirt with a girl in front of his father.
“My name’s Imani,” she said once she got herself together.
“Oh, that’s a good name,” Alonzo interjected.
“Beautiful,” Amir said.
She was losing the battle to hide her smile, and the more he saw of it, the more he liked.
“Boy, if you don’t take those doggone boxes from her,” Alonzo ordered.
Imani lost it then. She laughed so hard she dropped her boxes.
Amir rolled his eyes and stooped down to pick them up for her. She crouched down, and they were eye-to-eye for the first time.
“I’m sorry.” She was still laughing.
“Don’t be. I know what he’s like.”
“I can hear you,” Alonzo muttered.
Amir decided to ignore him. “When’d you move in? Ain’t nobody been here for a while.”
“This weekend. I didn’t think anyone was in your place, either.”
“Oh, yeah, I’ve been helping move dad out of his house in Oakland.”
“Oh, is that where you’re from?”
“Yeah, born and raised. What about you?”
“Virginia.”
“You just moved here from Virginia?”
“Yeah. I, um, I got a job opportunity, and I couldn’t pass it up,” she said, stacking the last flat piece of cardboard onto the stack for him.
Amir made sure he could hold the stack securely before he stood and looked up at her. “What do you do?”
“I’m a violinist. I’m joining the Oakland Symphony.”
“Oh,” Amir breathed. “Wow.”
Ada used to tell her children to follow their gut, that they could never go down the wrong road if they listened to their instincts. And instinct told Amir that Imani was something special.
“Well, thanks,” she said after Amir had been staring at her for far too long in silence.
“Oh, yeah. Yeah. No problem. Recycling pick-up is on Tuesdays. I’ll put ‘em in my can if you don’t—”
She shook her head. “I don’t. I called the city before my move, and they told me they’d have a can here when I arrived, but they didn’t.”
Amir nodded. “That’s not a shock. You’ll probably have to call a couple more times.”
She rolled her eyes and sighed. “I figured. Thanks again.
“If you have any other recycling, I’m just next door,” he said. “I mean, until your can shows up, you’re welcome to use mine.”
Her eyes darted to his chest one more time. “Thanks, I’ll probably take you up on that.”
“Please do.”
She smiled at him fully for a long moment, and then she turned to his dad. “Nice to meet you, Alonzo.”
“Nice to meet you too, Imani. See you around.”
Amir watched as Imani ducked back into her house, and maybe a few more seconds after that.
“Okay, boy, don’t be weird,” Alonzo said.
Amir sighed and turned to glare at his father. “You’re one to talk.”
“What? If it wasn’t for me, you’d still be standing at the curb looking foolish.”
“Pops.”
“Amir,” he laughed. “Put those boxes in the trash and get those last few crates into the garage. We can reheat something for dinner and watch a movie. And in a couple weeks, we’ll call Toonie and have him bring his saw over. We’ll start building a shelf for these records.”
“Build? Pop, we can just buy some.”
“The hell we can. You know how expensive those are? Besides, we’ll do it out here in the driveway. Maybe your new neighbor’ll bring you some lemonade.”
“Pop, keep your voice down,” Amir hissed, dumping the boxes into his recycling can.
“For what? Look, listen to me when I tell you that when you meet a woman who might could be the one, you don’t want to play it safe. You miss too many opportunities being cautious.”
Amir shook his head as he headed back to his car.
“You laughing, but you gon’ realize I’m right one of these days.”
“Am I?” Amir laughed.
“Damn right.”
“Language,” Amir teased, and they both laughed as Amir unloaded the last of Alonzo’s records in what seemed like the blink of an eye.