Zaire’s eyes widened. “Cuh…ain’t no way.”
Lesha adjusted her purse on her shoulder and started up the walkway like she was on a mission.
Ray stood up, his bones creaking. “Zaire…that your Mama?” He could see the resemblance.
Zaire rubbed his forehead, torn between dread and amusement. “Yeah…that’s Lesha.”
Meadow’s mouth parted just enough to show her shock. “She came here?”
“She didn’t say nothin’,” Zaire muttered, stepping onto the porch.
Lesha reached the steps just as he did. She stopped, stared up at her son for two long seconds, then smacked his arm hard enough for Ray to jump. “You really been out here livin’ without callin’ me?” she fussed, voice sharp, love sitting under every note.
Zaire laughed and tried to block her second swing. “Mama-”
“Don’t you ‘Mama’ me,” she swatted. “I raised you better than that. You think just ‘cause you’re big and grown you can disappear on me? Boy, I had to call True and threaten that nigga’s entire peace to get this address.”
Ray chuckled under his breath. “She fiery,” he murmured.
Meadow remained still, unsure if she should interrupt or hide inside the house. She’d never met anyone’s Mama, let alone the mother of the man she fell so hard for over golf balls and vulnerable secrets.
Lesha finally stopped swinging and grabbed Zaire’s face between her freshly manicured hands. “You okay?” she asked, tone softening the way only mothers in the flip of a switch.
Zaire’s expression melted. “I’m good.”
“You sure?” She tilted his chin to the left, then to the right, inspecting him like he was five years old again. “Ain’t nobody mess with you? Ain’t nobody talkin’ crazy to you? You eatin’? You sleepin’?” Her Cali accent was thicker than Zaire’s.
Zaire grinned. “Ma, I’m fine.”
She sighed and pulled him into a tight hug. “I missed my baby.”
Meadow’s heart fluttered. She didn’t know why - maybe because the love was palpable. Maybe because she saw where Zaire got his tenderness from…maybe because something about a Black mother embracing her son always felt holy.
Lesha stepped back and finally glanced over Zaire’s shoulder. Her eyes landed on Meadow, standing in the doorway.
“Oh!” she gasped, hand flying to her chest. “Is this the girl?”
Ray nearly choked on air.
Zaire blinked, gazing back at Meadow then toward his Mom again. “Cuh…chill.”
Meadow straightened her shirt even though it didn’t need straightening. Her voice came out a little breathier than she meant. “Hello.”
Lesha’s face beamed like she’d been waiting all day. “Oh, you’re pretty…real pretty. I see your little glow, see your edges swellin’ up from all them smiles my son been givin’ you.”
Zaire groaned, “Please don’t do this.”
Lesha ignored him and stepped forward to hug Meadow without asking for permission. It wasn’t a light hug either - it was deep, tight, full of warmth, the kind that made Meadow’s shoulders drop because someone else was finally holding her.
“You feel familiar,” Lesha whispered. “I like that.”
Meadow blinked, a little stunned. “Thank you. I-I’m happy to meet you.”
Lesha pulled back and cupped Meadow’s cheeks. “Baby, you got beautiful eyes, and good energy. My son don’t ever bring nobody around us. I been waiting on this.”
Zaire rubbed the back of his neck. “Mama-”
“I’m proud of you,” she cut in. “Love gon’ soften that tough mouth of yours.”
