We hit The Pour House first, like always. This was our tradition now. We’d stop for coffee, hot chocolate, and pastries, then go straight to the mall afterward.
The bell chimed, and I saw her. Solé was behind the counter, curls spilling down her back, tee and jeans fitting her like confidence. She wiped the espresso machine while helping a middle-school girl with homework, calm and patient. Her gentleness looked expensive, not delicate, disciplined. My chestwarmed so fast it startled me. I didn’t rush; I just stood there, taking her in.
That’s her,I thought, not just because I wanted her, but because I respected her. And my protectiveness rose like it already knew its job.
Before I could move, Reagan leaned into my side, eyes wide like she’d just spotted a celebrity. “Ooh, the pretty teacher! She helped me find my class yesterday! She works here?”
Reece stayed cool, but her voice sparkled. “That’s Ms. S. Everybody says she’s phenomenal. IhopeI get her for Honors next year, or her study group.”
My chest warmed and pinched. I could already see my sisters wanting to be under Solé’s wing—and the school trying to make it complicated. Guilt hit quickly; I wasn’t letting anyone play with my girl or put her in an awkward spot. Blessings always came with fine print.We’ll figure it out,I told myself.There’s always a way that keeps everybody safe.
“Ms. S! Ms. S!” Reagan and Reece called out like they’d known her forever.
Solé looked up and smiled at them—warm, real—and it hit me square in the chest.
“Hey, beauties!” she said, genuinely excited. “What y’all doing here this early on a Saturday?”
Reagan pointed at me. “Our big brother got a crush, and we caught him blushing this morning, so we came to meet the mystery beauty that had him blushing.”
I shook my head like I was disappointed, but I was amused—and a little touched. My sisters had no chill and no fear; that was what happened when kids grew up covered. Still, my mind clocked it. Solé could’ve been an opp, and Reagan was handing out intel like group chat gossip. I stepped up behind them, unbothered.
“Good morning, beautiful,” I said—because manners and intention mattered. Then I cut my eyes at Reagan and Reece. “And baby girls, I think she know, since it’s her fine self I been bothering ever since she flung that drink on me.”
Solé’s eyes met mine, then dropped quickly. Her cheeks warmed, and her freckles told on her. “I did not fling my drink on you, sir. It was an accident,” she said, sweet but firm.
I leaned on the counter and lowered my voice for her. “I saw you in here before that game, patient with them kids. I didn’t bother you. That was Big G putting you in my orbit twice. Spill whatever you want on me, Connie. I’m not going nowhere.”
Her lashes fluttered. She busied herself with the register like the numbers could save her, but her freckles lit up, and her mouth betrayed her, fighting a smile and losing.
“Good morning, Roman,” NanNan called from down the counter, sharp and warm.
I straightened and smiled.
“Morning, Nan. How you doing, beautiful?”
Her eyes gleamed with mischief. “I’m good, better if this gorgeous barista lets you take her out that door.”
My girls snickered like it was a show.
I shrugged. “You know I’m trying, Nan. I’m ready whenever she is.”
Nan slapped the counter. “My grandbaby better not play with you. That’s a good man right there, Santa Anna! Or whatever y’all youngins say.” Nan kept going, proud and fearless. “He been taking care of these pretty twins since he was a pup; now he a big dog. Woof! Woof!”
I laughed, head tipping back. NanNan was off the chain, lively and loud with the truth. And if she was on my side, I was letting her talk.
Still, in my head, I was already preparing to translate slang for her later. Even me, raised how I was raised, knew it was “He’sa good man, Savannah,” that little line referencing Whitney Houston’s character from the movie every lame man hated but every woman loved.
Nan waved a towel. “Don’t mess this up for me and my future great-grandbabies. You gon’ go with this fine man wherever he takes your homebody self, you hear me?”
Solé hid her face, laughing. “Nan, I’m literally helping you for free.”
“Exactly,” Nan said. “This your payment—love and good meat.”
“Wow.” I laughed. “The pressure in here is crazy.”
Right on cue, the bell over the door chimed again.
“Well, lookie, lookie . . .” Mel walked in, doing a full Sheneneh voice. “What do we have here?”
