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drama with Fatima, and Camille’s husband is on the verge of putting her out.  But we still need to celebrate my baby.  Shoot, Peach has moved her gelatinous behind to Atlanta and y’all don’t see me tripping.”
    “Bryan is not putting me out,” Camille says.  “We’re actually doing great.”
    Sydney and I stare at Camille.  Her denial is too real.  She and Bryan are doing the opposite of great. 
    “So, when you called Grandma and was crying on the phone what was that about?  Were those tears of joy?” I ask.
    Camille narrows her eyes at me.  “You should mind your own business.”
    “You should stop trying to pretend like you guys are all good and you’re not.  We’re your sisters Camille.  You don’t have to lie to us,” Sydney says.
    Camille blinks several times, probably trying to hold back tears.  “I don’t want to talk about me and Bryan, okay?”
    The quiver in Camille’s voice makes me feel horrible for going hard on her. 
    “I’m sorry Cami,” I say.  “I shouldn’t have said anything about the phone call.  You know we’re all pulling for you guys.”
    Camille dabs at her eyes with the corner of her napkin and clears her throat.  “ You know what?  I’m gonna go now.  I’ve got to get back to work.”
    “What about your food?” Sydney asks.
    “I can pick something up on the way back.”
    “Don’t leave, Camille.  I said I was sorry.”
    A tear falls from Camille’s chin as she stands.  “Just because you apologize, it doesn’t mean that I have to accept it.”
    Sydney glares at me as Camille rushes out of the restaurant.  “Dionne!”
    “Look, I didn’t mean to hurt her little judgmental feelings.  You know she would’ve done the same to me.  Shoot, she has done the same to me.”
    “Was she really crying on the phone to grandma?”
    “Yeah.  I think he’s making her go to a therapist or something for her gambling addiction.”
    Sydney looks at the ceiling and shakes her head.  “When did we confirm that there was an actual gambling addiction?  I remember Bryan trying to say that and I also remember Camille saying that it wasn’t true.”
    “Girl, I don’t know.  She and Bryan are super churchy anyway.  Why doesn’t she just take it to the king or something?”
    Sydney’s laugh comes out sounding like a snort.  “You been listening to Gospel music?”
    “No honey!  They play an inspirational song on my favorite radio station right before they do the gossip.”
    For some reason this is insanely funny to Sydney.  She doubles over with laughter and tears fill her eyes.  She’s laughing so hard she can barely catch her breath.
    “Don’t start choking.  You know I can’t help you with my gut full of human.”
    “Okay, okay.  Well, since the only Jesus you get is on the radio station before the gossip, I’m going to pray for our sister.  I think we need to do a better job of being there for her.”
    I roll my eyes and sigh.  “She needs to communicate with me.  I can’t just read her mind, and neither can you.”
    “Well, the reason for this lunch was my situation,” Sydney says.  “Let’s not forget.  I need a plan on how to deal with Fatima!”
    “You’re going to continue to do what you’re doing.  If Lucas steps to Fatima, we’ll know who he really is and then you can cut him loose.  I’ll hook you up with one of Rod’s friends.”
    “Uh, no you won’t,” Sydney says.  " I am not going to be doing drive-bys with you and Hailey.”
    “We don’t do drive-bys.  We do reconnaissance missions.”
    Sydney slides down in her chair as the laughter returns, and I smile at her.  I’m glad that she’s laughing and not thinking about her man and Fatima.  That’s the whole point of these sister lunches anyway.  We’re supposed to forget about our problems. 
    As Makenzie walks out of the restaurant wearing a smirk on her face, I think we may need a few more of these lunches in the very near future.  It looks