Zaire almost choked.
Meadow blushed so hard, she looked away.
Making dinner turned into something sacred. The kitchen hummed with laughter. Ray told stories about Magnolia’s younger days. Lesha cracked jokes about Zaire’s childhood. Meadow cut vegetables while Lesha told her which cousin had too many kids and which uncle owed her money.
It felt like a first family gathering…a beginning.
Hours later, they all sat around the table with plates piled high. Zaire reached over and grabbed Meadow’s thigh under thetable, a quiet anchor keeping her on earth. Meadow glanced up at him and found his eyes already on her. Her skin heated under his intense gaze.
He mouthed, ’You good?’
She nodded, ready to eat.
Halfway through dinner, Lesha pressed her hands together. “Before we eat, somebody needs to say grace. Zaire, you wanna do the honors?”
Zaire straightened up like he’d been asked to recite the Declaration of Independence. “Uh…yeah.”
Meadow hid her smile behind her glass. She’d never seen him nervous before.
He bowed his head. Everyone followed.
“Father God,” Zaire began, his voice deeper than usual. “We thank you for this day. Thank you for bringin’ us together. Thank you for Meadow’s Mama, for Ray, for my Mama bein’ safe on her flight. Thank you for love…thank you for wins…thank you for the Meadow.”
Meadow’s breath stuck in her throat.
“Amen.”
“Amen,” everyone echoed.
Magnolia wasn’t in a good mood they didn’t force her to join them. These days were always sour moments for Meadow. Every time they sat down to eat without her was a reminder that one day, her last dinner with them would really be her last.
Dinner plates were pushed back, yams half-finished, shrimp tails piled neatly on napkins. Laughter still clung to the walls like wallpaper.
Ray stood from the table, patting his stomach dramatically. “I’m goin’ in there with Magnolia. Lesha, you put your foot in that food. I’m gon’ sleep good after that.”
Lesha waved him off. “Go on, ole man, I got your house handled.”
Ray chuckled and disappeared down the hallway.
Zaire kissed Meadow’s temple, squeezed her thigh, then slipped out the back door to smoke…quietly, like he knew Meadow needed space with his Mama.
The second the door shut behind him, Lesha exhaled like she’d been waiting all night for her real audition.
She rolled up her sleeves.
“Aight, baby,” Lesha said, swinging a towel over her shoulder. “C’mon let’s clean before your man try to come in here and act useful.”
Meadow snorted. “He’s helpful.”
“He is…but he’s slow,” Lesha whispered, lowering her voice like she was spilling government secrets.
Meadow burst out laughing. “Lesha-”
“Mmhmm, and don’t look shocked. You know that nigga slow, all them muscles take up too much room.”
Meadow nearly dropped a plate, flustered. “Please…stop!” she cackled..
Lesha slapped the counter lightly. “Oh look, she blushin’! You really love my boy.”
