“You mean with age,” my baby muttered.
“Aziza!” Kyleigh scolded.
Ola Kate looked at her over the top of her glasses. “Keep on. You’ll be stuck eating that dry ass turkey breast at these events, messing with me.”
After the plates were emptied and the dessert knives appeared, Mama disappeared for a second. When she came back, she had a shoebox in her hands.
“A’ight. Before everybody falls into a food coma, we got something to do.”
She set the box in front of Aziza. My girl’s eyes went wide.
“For me?”
“For you. And for this family.”
Kyleigh’s fingers went still on her fork.
Aziza opened the box carefully. Inside was a small, velvet case and a folded piece of paper. Her little fingers fumbled with the paper first. Truth leaned over to help her open it up.
It was a hand-drawn family tree. Somebody had gone all out. Names in neat script, little doodled hearts around certain boxes, branches that crossed and curled. At the bottom, in fresh ink, was a new branch. Aziza’s name sat there, connecting Christopher, Shipley, Grindley, and Mrs. Amanda all in one messy, beautiful knot.
She stared at it. “That’s… me?”
“That’s you,” Pops said. “We’ll put the official one in your room when we get it framed. This just the draft.”
Her fingers traced the lines. She smiled, slow and bright, like she could feel roots growing under her feet.
“What’s in the little box?” Serena urged.
Aziza opened it. Inside was a delicate bracelet with tiny charms—an A, a little hill, a tree, a tiny book, a music note.
“Mama.”
Kyleigh covered her mouth. Tears were right there, but she held them back like a champ.
“It’s a starter bracelet. Every year, you get another charm. From anybody who wants to claim you. This one’s from us. Next one…” Mama looked at Mrs. Amanda. “We’ll let your great-grandmother fuss about that.”
Mrs. Amanda sniffed. “I already ordered mine. A little gavel. For when she grows up and sues all of us for emotional distress.”
Laughter rippled around the table again.
Aziza slipped the bracelet on, looking more serious than I’d ever seen her. “It looks like the one you wear, Mama.”
Kyleigh’s eyes flew to me. “Zi—” she began.
“Believe she got it on today,” Mrs. Amanda said breezily.
Kyleigh’s eyes narrowed, but she didn’t move as I reached for her sleeve. She wore a silver bracelet. From it dangled only two charms: a book and a quill.
The bracelet I had given Mrs. Amanda for her so long ago. I met her eyes, understanding the significance of the fact that Aziza recognized it. She had kept it. She had worn it. I swallowed, blinked.
All I said though, was, “Only two charms?”
She gave me a little bittersweet smile. “It didn’t seem right for anyone else to put some on here.”
I nodded. Swallowed again. “I guess I got work to do.”
I glanced back to where my daughter was still marveling at her bracelet.
