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“She must be talking to you.”
    Now, Michellelee knew that wasn’t true because in all the time I’d known Miriam, she’d never once tried to set me up.
    â€œYou know who I’m talking to.” Miriam set her hands on her wide hips and spoke in that mother-scolding voice that she used.
    â€œFirst of all, I do not need you to find me a man. I mean, look at me.” Michellelee stopped for a moment, then twirled like the ballerina on the music box that my parents bought me the first time they took me to Paris. “Out of the three of us, who’s beauty personified?”
    Michellelee’s question was a rhetorical one that made Miriam and me roll our eyes, though I couldn’t really be mad at Michellelee.She always said those kinds of things, but not out of conceit. She was simply stating a fact, and my parents had taught me never to be mad at the truth.
    Michellelee continued, “So, I don’t need your help ’cause I have no problem pulling dudes.” She flopped down on the sofa next to me and picked up one of the magazines she’d been flipping through earlier.
    Miriam whined, “But you never pull the right one.”
    â€œSays who?”
    I leaned back and closed my eyes. I’d heard this track before. My best friends would go back and forth—Miriam would tell Michellelee about some guy she thought was perfect for Michellelee, and Michellelee would tell Miriam to mind her business. They would keep at it until Miriam stomped away, because that’s how it was going to end. Miriam would be mad and Michellelee would shrug her off.
    Helping Michellelee find the right man seemed so important to Miriam. I guessed it had something to do with the way she was raised. From the moment we met, she’d made it known that she wanted a husband and a family more than she wanted even her college degree. It seemed to me that she was going to get her wish; her boyfriend, Chauncey, was the only guy I knew who wanted to get married as much as Miriam did. So, I guessed, Miriam wanted the same thing for her friends—well, at least that’s what she wanted for Michellelee.
    Of course, she probably wanted the same for me, though she never did anything to try to help me. Maybe it was because she thought life was different for white girls. Or maybe she thought life was just different for me.
    Actually, she had a point. While I was still in my mother’s womb, she and my daddy had already planned for my wedding day. Accordingto their dreams, I was going to marry Waldorf Astoria the Fourth. That was not his real name; that was just what I called Clarkson Wells, the son of my father’s medical business partner and best friend.
    â€œThis time, I’m not trying to set you up.” Miriam’s voice broke through my reverie. “You’ll be doing Chauncey a favor. His best friend in the whole world just came home.”
    â€œWhere’s he been? Prison?” Michellelee smirked.
    â€œNo, that would be your last boyfriend. By the way, is Pookie out yet?”
    I couldn’t help it, I had to laugh.
    â€œHis name is Luke,” Michellelee said, as if she was more insulted by what Miriam had called him than by what Miriam was saying about him. “Not Pookie, and he wasn’t in prison. He just had to take care of some outstanding warrants.”
    â€œWhatever!” Miriam said. “Look, Chauncey’s friend just got back from Mississippi.”
    My eyes popped open. “Mississippi?”
    â€œNot your part of Mississippi, Emily.”
    What was that supposed to mean?
    â€œHe’s been in Mississippi taking care of his grandmother,” Miriam explained. “She died two weeks ago, and he’s finally back home. Chauncey wants to cheer him up and he thought you two would have fun together.”
    â€œOh, great. Just what I need, some guy crying on my shoulder all night about his dead grandmother.” Michellelee shook