He rounded the corner and saw a flight of stairs, but before he could make it that far, a small, but firm voice pulled him into another room.
A voice so faint, it cracked between breaths.
Someone singing an old hymn under their breath.
Zaire stepped into the doorway.
A woman sat in a rocking chair near the window, wrapped in a shawl and looking out at the early morning light. Her hair was silver. Her hands fragile and folded in her lap. Her eyes seemed distant like she was watching a movie only she could see.
Magnolia turned her head just enough to see his shape. Her eyes softened in a way that tore straight through him. “Ray?” she whispered.
Zaire froze, his throat tightening. “Oh…” he murmured. “No, ma’am…I?—”
“Ray,” she repeated again, reaching her shaky hand toward him. “Come here , baby.”
Zaire’s chest caved in. He stepped forward slowly.
She smiled - a small, grateful smile, one someone gives to the person they love most but haven’t seen in too long.
“You came back,” she whispered. “I knew you would. I been waiting on you all morning.”
Zaire gulped. His eyes burned still, as he crouched down beside her, hands trembling. “I ain’t him,” he said softly. “But I’m here. I’m right here.”
Magnolia brushed her fingers against his cheek the same way a mother touches a child she raised. “You look tired, Ray. You been carrying too much again.”
Zaire closed his eyes. Her touch steadied something in him he didn’t know was wobbling. Even if her words weren’t for him, her comfort fit the moment too well. “I’m alright,” he stuttered, “I’m alright, ma’am.”
She nodded as if she believed him. “You always say that. But you never fool me.”
His spirit shattered. Leaning forward, Zaire let her fragile hand rest against his cheek. He didn’t move or breathe. He just let himself be somebody’s love for the moment.
“Zaire?” Meadow’s question pulled him back to the moment and the reason why he was trekking through their home in the first place.
He opened his eyes.
Her silhouette filled the doorway.
Her face collapsed the second she saw it…her mama touching him like he was Ray.
Her Mama smiling
Her Mama present for the first time in days, maybe weeks.
Tears hit Meadow’s cheeks fast.
“Mama…” she gasped, stepping inside. “Mama, it’s me.” Meadow was always so desperate to be remembered.
Magnolia stared at her, confusion washing over her face. She pulled her hand away from Zaire and squinted. “I’m sorry, baby…have we met?”
Meadow’s strength broke.
Zaire stood up quickly, reaching toward her on instinct. But Meadow stumbled back, shaking her head, trying to hold herself together and failing.
“It’s me, Mama,” she choked. “It’s Meadow…your daughter.”
Magnolia stared at her, searching her face like the answer was buried there but she couldn’t find the right memory.
Zaire felt his chest tear wide open. He reached for Meadow again. She didn’t move this time. She leaned against him like her legs might give out.
