Page 64 of Pride and Protest

“Is that Mr. Thang?” Beverly pushed open the door from the adjoining suite. She, like everyone else, was already de-scarved and dressed. Liza finally found her phone twisted in the sheets. Why was her heart pounding?

I’m downstairs

Her heart hammered, and then she remembered. WIC, of course.Who else could it be?

We’re in room 1207

Liza answered with steadying hands.

Penthouse?

You know how we do!

She responded, then rushed to the bathroom to wash her faceand brush her teeth. She was throwing her headscarf onto the messy pile of sheets when she heard his soft knock. Liza looked around. Why was her family draped over the furniture like aVoguefront page?

Liza opened the door and beamed. WIC did the rest. He came with gift boxes and flowers and all the things to bowl everyone over with his magnanimity. Liza could not have played it out better. WIC floated in, all warmth and smiles, with fragrant pink roses for everyone and a cheesesteak for Maurice. He evenmistakenlycalled Bev by her oldest daughter’s name, “thinking” she was Janae, and coaxed Granny’s turban off and wore it around the suite for ten minutes pretending to be Madea. He had turned a gray day into a bright one. Liza leaned into his magnetism, late-night texts forgotten. Her sisters were all laughs and lashes.

“You’re famous again!” WIC said.

“Oh, the memes, I know.” The family gathered around WIC’s phone as he searched Liza’s hashtag #Bennett2winit on Instagram. As he scrolled through all the social media around the event, the banter and laughter faded at the latest memes that popped up with Dorsey and Liza dancing.

That feeling when your mom made you make up with your brother.

Black lives matter sees green.

When you get fried chicken at Asian carryout.

Hater to Dater.

Gentrify me, Mr. Fitzgerald.

Some Tiffany for Liza

There were also a lot of jokes about the “dark side,” and even more jokes with some combination of Asian and Black racism.

“This one was all over Reddit. Did he get you a Tiffany necklace?” WIC smiled. It was a great one. Everyone in the room relaxed a little. Liza only noticed how large his canines were.

Liza rolled her eyes. “No, he did not.”

“He got her an old book,” Bev said.

Liza’s hands popped to her hips.Is there anyone who hasn’t already looked in my gift box?

“What was it? A rare first edition ofRich Dad, Poor Dad?” WIC’s look was a notch past curiosity. “He’s using expensive gifts to try to get Liza off his neck. But it won’t work!” He clapped again. “But what was it?”

Liza had no idea why she was absolutely unwilling to tell him what was in that box, but she would rather rip it up than have him flip through it and see her doodles and notes on top of his notes. Hear him mock it.

Maurice stood between them. “WIC, my brother! Mr. Dorsey is nowhere to be found. Why does every conversation have to be about him? I’m very interested in your plan to save Netherfield Court.”

Liza squinted at her little brother. He had these flashes of intuition about people that sometimes surprised her.

Bev tsked. “I see Mr. High and Mighty ain’t out there contradicting this mess. He’s just gonna let you take the heat for how this looks.”

WIC pulled up his slacks and sat at the foot of the bed. “I hate to say this, Ms. Bev, but this is typical Dorsey. Letting the Brown people endure the blowback of his decisions. He’s enjoying this.”

Janae winced. “There are just as many disparaging Asian remarks as there are Black. He can’t be too happy about that.”

“The power differential is too high, Janae. He should be out in front because he has the power to do so. But he’s gonna let the laborers do the work for him,” WIC said.