“You handled it like a professional,” Zaire complimented.
She turned toward him. “You did too. You’re good with them.”
He shrugged. “Kids see through bullshit. I ain’t got the energy to fake it around them.”
“That’s why they like you,” she told him. “You don’t talk to them like they’re stupid.”
He lifted his eyes to her. “You don’t either.”
They stood there for a moment, just looking at each other, the day stretching out around them. No Magnolia crying out. No investor calling her phone. No cameras in his face. Just grass and quiet and a handful of range balls waiting to be picked up.
Meadow broke eye contact first. “Grab a bucket,” she said. “Since you staff now.”
He smirked. “I get paid?”
“You got free food and my presence,” she replied. “You’re welcome.”
“Your presence?” he repeated. “That’s part of the compensation package?”
“Premium benefit.”
He chuckled. “You crazy, cuh.”
They walked side by side, picking up balls, dropping them into the wire buckets with dull clinks. Every once in a while their hands brushed when they both reached for the same one. Neither of them mentioned it.
As they worked through the field, Meadow glanced over at him again.
“You meant what you said, earlier?” she asked.
“About what?”
“Out here being the only place you can breathe sometimes.”
He didn’t rush his answer. “Yeah.”
She nodded slowly. “Same.”
Zaire watched her pick up another ball and toss it into the bucket …without looking. “This your 19th hole too?”
She thought about it. About the kids…her mama…Ray…the land people kept trying to buy. The way standing on this ground made her feel connected to something bigger than all of it.
“Yeah.” She nodded. “I think it is.”
He held her gaze with something in his eyes she hadn’t seen before. Not flirtation, not play…just understanding. “Good,” he told her. “You deserve one.”
Her chest tugged.
So did his.
They bent back down for more balls, the moment sliding into the quiet again, but neither of them walked away from what had just settled between them.
Whatever it was, it had roots now.
Meadow lay across her bed,bonnet on, wearing a tank top and shorts, her legs kicked up behind her. She hit the FaceTime icon without thinking, still smiling from the kids’ chaos earlier.
Tia answered on the second ring, hair wrapped, lashes off, robe sliding off one shoulder like she owned the night. “Hey, ho.”
Meadow snorted. “Hi, bitch.”
