They collided in the middle of the foyer, hugging so hard they almost took Max out at the knees. He dodged at the last second, whimpering like he was offended, but wagging his tail anyway.
I knew Aziza had made friends with a little girl who walked by sometimes when she was at the bottom of the driveway with Serena. How ironic that she belonged to Jabali. She was probably how my secret had been found out. I stared for a second, taking ZoZo in. She had deep, glowing brown skin, those beautiful, liquid brown eyes, and her hair was in two big puffs, gold ribbons tied around them. She had that same “I’m cute, but I fight” energy Aziza had. It made sense… they were sisters, after all.
The daughter Jabali had had with Donique was gorgeous, but my stomach did something ugly. Not toward her; never toward this baby. A child didn’t ask to be part of grown folks’ mess. It was just the proof of Jabali’s relationship with Donique. That pissed me off because I was supposed to be over it, beyond caring. When I was pregnant and hiding in Houston, Donique had been posting pictures in Emancipation looking very unpregnant. I thought she’d had an abortion. I knew they’d gotten together again after I left. Maybe this baby had come after Zi was born.
“Hi, baby. It’s nice to meet you. I heard you and Aziza been talking through the fence,” I greeted, shaking her little hand.
“Yes, ma’am,” she said politely. “I’m Zoriah. Thank you for letting me come help y’all pick ornaments.”
“Of course. I’m glad your daddy brought you,” I said honestly.
I knew my baby got lonely sometimes. A sister around her age would be a perfect playmate… as long as Donique had matured. Jabali’s hand on my arm pulling me around snapped me out of my reverie. He was frowning at me.
“What are you talking about, Kyleigh?” he asked, his voice tight.
I opened my mouth but stopped when Zoriah laughed.
“He’s not my daddy! He’s my Uncle Jay,” she explained.
Uncle.
I blinked. I took a second to regroup, then looked at him.
“Uncle?” I repeated.
He frowned. “Yeah. She’s Zahara’s. My niece. You good?”
Heat rushed to my face. “Wait. This is Zahara’s daughter?” I knew I sounded silly, basically repeating what he was saying.
“Yes. Why did you think she was my daughter?” he demanded in a heated whisper.
I lifted my chin, defensive and a little embarrassed. “Donique was pregnant when I left. She looks old enough,” I hissed back.
His mouth dropped open. “What the—” He looked at the girls and stopped. “We gon’ talk. Later. For the record, Zoriah belongs to Zahara and Ishaan Meriweather.” He raised his voice. “Now that we got that straight, you ready to take all this chaos to the store?”
“Hey! We’re not chaos. Mama says children are blessings,” Aziza protested, grabbing her cousin’s hand.
Jabali raised an eyebrow. “Oh, you’re definitely blessings. Just loud ones.”
Zoriah giggled. “Uncle Jay, you wrong,” she said.
I exhaled, the knot in my chest loosening just a tiny bit. It didn’t fix anything that mattered, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t relieved.
“Okay, well, hi,nieceZoriah,” I gave Jabali the evil eye as I emphasized the word. “I’m Ms. Kyleigh. Y’all two ready to go completely overboard in a store?”
“Yes,” they chorused.
“Absolutely not. We’re going to be reasonable,” I corrected.
Aziza looked at me like I’d just suggested we celebrate Christmas with a single sticker. “Reasonable is so boring, Mama,” she said.
Jabali watched us, something amused and indulgent in his face. When his eyes met mine, he sobered a little.
“You sure you wanna go?” he asked quietly. “That village yesterday was a lot for you. We can let Zahara take them. Or Serena. Or my mama. You don’t have to go back down there and let people stare at you today.”
“I don’twantto, but I also don’t want to hide in this house while people act like I’m some myth on a hill.”
His jaw flexed. “Ain’t nobody gon’ bother you today. They can look, but that’s it. And if they look too long, I’ll look back harder.”
