Magnolia didn’t see him. Didn’t hear him. She curled into herself like the room was unfamiliar and everyone in it meant harm.
Rena stepped forward, breath quick. “She must’ve woken up confused. Maybe she?—”
“Were you not in here?” Meadow asked sharply, still keeping her voice soft toward her mother but not sparing Rena from the edge in her tone.
“I stepped out for two minutes,” Rena snapped. “I wasn’t expecting her to?—”
“You were in the kitchen flirting,” Meadow cut in. “That’s what you were doing.”
Rena recoiled. “You not finna talk to me like I don’t do my job.”
“That isexactlyhow I’m finna talk to you,” Meadow fired back, voice still low because Magnolia was trembling, “because while you were smiling in someone’s face, my mama had a full episode alone.”
Rena folded her arms. “You blaming me for five seconds of confusion?”
“I’m blaming you for not paying attention.” Meadow frowned. “That’s literally the thing you’re here to do.”
Zaire stepped in. “Meadow, chill.”
She turned on him next. “Don’t say a muthafuckin’ thing to me.”
“Rena ain’t the whole problem.” He leered. “You don’t gotta do all that.”
Meadow’s breath shook. Not because of him. Because of everything. Because Magnolia was staring through her like she was glass. Because Ray looked like he was holding himself together with one frayed thread. Because she had slept too long. Because she had no room for grace this morning.
“You turned off my alarm,” Meadow reminded him, staring right at him. “That’s the only reason I wasn’t here.”
Zaire’s chest rose. “Aye, I was tryna help.”
“Next time, don’t.”
Zaire didn’t argue. He hated arguing with her.
Rena didn’t either.
Ray finally sat on the edge of the bed, reaching for Magnolia again. “I’m right here, sweetheart. I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”
Magnolia blinked hard, her confusion pulsing through the room like fog.
Meadow climbed onto the bed beside her mother and wrapped her arms around her gently, humming the tune Magnolia always recognized on her bad days. Slowly, Magnolia’s breathing eased, her shoulders lowering inch by inch.
The whole room exhaled with her.
Nobody said anything while Meadow jumped in with all the world on her back to calm her mama when she needed comfort too. But life didn’t comfort Black women. It just handed more and more shit for them to fix— more shit for them to hold. Never being allowed to hold anything they wanted— always what the world needed.
After Magnolia finally settled down, after Ray stopped shaking long enough to sit on the bed and breathe again, after Rena left the room muttering under her breath, Meadow stood there with her palms pressed into her thighs trying not to crumble. Zaire stayed in the doorway, watching her like he wasn’t sure if touching her would make things better or blow the whole house up.
She brushed past him, heading toward the hallway. Zaire followed her because everything about her energy said she was about to break something or someone.
“Meadow,” he called quietly.
She ignored him.
“Meadow.”
Nothing.
By the time they hit the living room, Zaire had enough. He reached out and grabbed her wrist—not in a hurtful way, just enough to stop her spiraling feet.
