When I got to the restaurant, Terrence was already at our usual booth chatting with Nettie. I hadn’t been there since I’d first left for college, and watching such a familiar scene playing out in front of me felt like I was in a time warp. Had it really been more than five years since I’d been here? What had I been doing all this time?

Terrence saw me watching them and motioned me over. Nettie turned to see who he was gesturing at and the smile that lit her face was as warm and inviting as a slice of her sweet potato pie.

“Well, well, well, if it ain’t little Miss Lila!” Nettie swept me up in a big Bishop hug, pulling me into her softness and warmth in a way my aunt and grandmother never did. I smelled cocoa butter, the scent I always associated with her, and breathed in deeply.

“Lord, Miss Nettie, I’ve missed you so much.” I tried to keep the tears out of my voice, as well as off my face, as I hugged her back.

“Then maybe you should come visit more often, hmm?” She pulled back and chucked me under the chin. “Now go sit with Terry and I’ll be back for your order. You still drink sweet tea?” She looked at me sternly, as if that one thing would be the final tipping point between us.

“Only if you make it, Miss Nettie. Nobody can do it like you do, especially not in Chicago.”

Nettie lowered her voice. “Is it true they drink their tea unsweetened?”

I nodded. “And if you ask for sweet tea, they’ll bring you the tea with ice and a bunch of sugar packets. It’s horrible.”

She shuddered. “You poor thing. OK then, two sweet teas, coming right up.”

I watched her walk away with the usual spring in her step. Her black, tightly curled hair had always been shot with premature grays, and her dark brown skin remained soft and smooth. All that cocoa butter, I assumed, the familiar smell enveloping me like one of her hugs. I’d only been away a few years, but it seemed like so much had changed while I was gone. The fact that Nettie remained steadfast was an anchor, a blessing.

I joined Terrence at our booth. His hands were folded in front of him, resting next to the unopened menu I saw Nettie place on the table.

I grabbed the one at my seat. “You’re not eating?”

“Already know what I want. Come here often enough to have the menu memorized by now.”

I smiled. He was right. As I looked over the options, the only thing that had changed was that the once-flimsy paper menus had been replaced with a laminated version rocking a fun, funky cover design.

“They changed up their logo! Wow, it’s really good. I should ask them who their graphic designer was. Our restaurant could really use a rebrand.”

Terrence frowned. “I did it. I do freelance graphic design as well as my construction work. You don’t remember?”

I flushed. “Oh. Right. Well, after all this is over, maybe we can talk concepts and prices and whatnot. Assuming we still have a restaurant after this whole mess is over.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

Silence settled over the two of us, as heavy and leaden as a weighted blanket. I took the opportunity to see the differences that time had brought to my friend. Terrence’s gray-green eyes still sparkled with humor and warmth and his full lips were still distractingly perfect. But deep lines around those features marred his otherwise smooth, deep brown skin. And though he kept his hair shaved down to a number-two fade, I could see hints of gray threaded throughout. He wasn’t quite thirty yet, but the truth was staring me in the face. My friend wasn’t the sweet, goofy teenager I had once known. We were both adults now. The way his eyes swept over me, I could tell he was analyzing me the same way. What changes had he noticed that I hadn’t? Hope I passed muster.

Nettie stopped by, order pad in hand, interrupting our silent evaluations. “You two OK?”

I picked up the menu and pretended to look over it again. “Yeah, we’re fine. You order first, Terrence. Having trouble making up my mind.”

He ordered the brisket platter with hush puppies, collard greens, and mac and cheese as sides. I’d been eyeing the same thing, but knowing that I could steal some of his made my decision easier.

“Can I have the fried catfish special, but fries instead of the hush puppies?”

“Of course, sweetie. Back in a bit.”

As she hustled off to the kitchen, Terrence shook his head. “You’re making a mistake. Their hush puppies are the best.”

“It’s cool, I’ll just steal one of yours.”

He laughed. “Good luck with that.”

The laughter erased the lines I’d seen earlier and made it easier for me to say what I had to say. I put my hand on top of his. “You probably don’t want to talk about this, but I need to get this off my chest. I’m so sorry about Janet.”

He pulled his hand back and wrapped them around his glass of sweet tea.

I mimicked his movement. “Sorry. This probably isn’t the place.”

“No, it’s not that. I’m sorry. I’ve been trying to work up the nerve to talk about her. Her and Derek and what the hell is going on. So go ahead. Ask me anything. I know you want to.”

Outside of Adeena, Terrence had been my best friend, but we drifted apart after high school. Not because of the distance, but out of respect for his relationship with Janet and to acknowledge how things were different now that Derek and I weren’t together. It was amazing how well he knew me, even after all this time. I should’ve known though. We’d never been the type to have to chat every day to feel close—that’s not the kind of friendship we had.

I sipped at my sweet tea, the golden nectar as comforting and syrupy sweet as it had always been. “How is she? Have the doctors said anything?”

His hands gripped the glass so tightly, they started trembling. “Not much. She’s in a coma. They did some test and said there’s brain activity and it was a good sign, but that’s all. No idea on when she’ll wake up. Or if.”

He’d already pulled away from my grasp, so I didn’t want to force my physical comfort on him. Instead, I stretched my hand out to the middle of the table and left it there in case he changed his mind.

“Hey, I don’t want to be that person trying to comfort you with sappy greeting card phrases. But we both know that Janet is one of the strongest, most stubborn people to ever grace Shady Palms. If anyone can pull through, it’s her.”

He laughed, finally loosening his grip on the glass, and reached out to give my fingers a quick squeeze. “Too true. Thanks, Lil’ Mac. I know you two don’t have the best relationship, so I appreciate how positive you’re being.”

I sighed. “High school was a long time ago. I’m a different person now, and I hope she is, too. For your sake.”

His face grew serious. “Just ’cause I love her doesn’t mean I don’t recognize her flaws. I’ve seen how much she’s tried to be better. She even told me she was real petty to you at the hospital and wanted to apologize.”

Ha, could’ve fooled me. “Really? When was this?”

He thought back. “That day she first saw you outside her office. Said she wanted to be the bigger person, so she promised me she’d help you. She called after you two arranged that lunch date, though. Told me she not only didn’t apologize, but basically forced you into meeting for lunch.” He shook his head. “I don’t know what it is about you, but you bring out the worst in her. I told her to bring you a small peace offering. When she heard you were back in town, she made a dachshund sculpture. It reminded me of your dog, so she was going to give it to you as a gift.” At my surprised look he said, “I guess you never got it.”

I shook my head. “We never got to meet. I thought she stood me up, so I ate lunch by myself then went to the hospital to confront her. I was the one who found her in her office. Well, me and her assistant, since we went up together. I don’t remember seeing a sculpture, but I could’ve missed it with everything that happened.”

We both sat in silence until Nettie came by with our lunch platters. We tore into our meals and the food was every bit as good as I remembered. Chicago may have Luella’s Southern Kitchen—which was boss—but Shady Palms had Nettie in the kitchen and George at the grill, bless them both.

Once the edges of hunger were gone and I could eat at a more leisurely pace, I asked Terrence, “Do you have any idea what Janet wanted to talk to me about?”

He swiped a fry off my plate. “Don’t get too excited. I asked her to tell me what was going on with Derek’s case, but she said patient confidentiality prevented her from sharing that info with me.”

“Even though he’s dead?”

“That’s what I said! Supposedly it lasts for fifty years after the person’s death or something like that. Anyway, all she’d say is that she got real curious after you’d come to visit and she went to go schmooze the medical examiner. Said he told her something interesting and she needed to talk to you immediately.”

“I don’t understand though. Why me? If there was something strange in the tests, why didn’t she just tell Amir? Or better yet, the cops?”