“A few years of pure grumpiness. Him. Not me.” She chuckled. “My son humbled himself. Brought me here saying, ‘Momma,I want you near me when I ain’t in LA.’ Showed me that cottage.”
Virginia’s gaze found mine, steady and piercing. “But listen,” she said, lowering her voice, intimate and serious, “don’t let him fool ya! He don’t do seconds. You’re on a different level than Montana. You make him meet you up here, understand?”
I smiled. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Good, sugar. Now lemme tell you something more.” Linking my arm in hers, she gave an affectionate squeeze. “I might have called yousugar‘cause I reckoned your name wasn’t Journey. It’s a beautiful name, but not yours. Mind if I call you Zuri?”
He told you?
She squeezed my hand. “Montana told nobody but me.”
“Okay,” I whispered, letting it sink in. “Yes, you may, Miss Virginia.”
“Thank you, Zuri. Now, I called you sugar out of habit. But I’ll be honest. You’re asalt.”
“Salt?” I blinked. Like salty?Ugh, I should’ve washedbeforeshe arrived at the hospital?—
“And you are an overthinker.” She giggled, the corners of her eyes crinkling. “Sugar is nice. Makes medicine go down. Now salt? Salt preserves.Enhancesflavor. Heals.”
Speechless, I listened to her.
“My son? He’s had plenty of sugar all his life. Sweet things melt under fire. You?” She looked deeply at me, and I swore she glimpsed my soul soften. “You ground him. You last.”
My chest tightened. Nobody ever called me that. Professors had encouraged me. Edwin had placed me in the position to become chief resident—for his own illegal reasons.
Virginia leaned in with a teasing Creole cadence. “And lemme tell you something, Zuri. My boy’s fun. He’s gone try to sweep you up, keep you laughing. Get you distracted. Don’t let him fool you,non. Set the rules, dahlin’.”
I realized how much trust I must feel to talk with her like this. Virginia’s warmth, her playful jabs, the way she opened up, letting Creole slip into the conversation. I finally fit in.
“And, salt,”—she winked—“Montanawillrise to meet you where you stand. Despite how long it might take him, don’t you forget, you family now. Drive my boy crazy on the way.”
Warmth fluttered into my chest. This sensation? Acceptance and trust. She hadn’t brought me here just to show me the cottage Darius and I should’ve stayed at.
Or tell a story about her grandfather, their land, their legacy. She’d told me about the real Montana who appeared whenBig Countrybowed.
She spoke to me like a mother would. Something some children might neglect.
But me?
God, this could be my family …I almost smiled. Almost lifted a prayer, but Montana’s shouting pierced the silence. Furious and sharper than a scalpel.
“LaShawn, damn! Don’t you tell me my father is suing me.”
Virginia’s arm, looped in mine, tightened, as if she needed help to stand. After a beat, I spoke. “Did he just say he’s being sued … by his own father?”
montana
. . .
The man had me heated enough to backstroke in fish grease as a way to relax before putting my foot in his ass.
LaShawn’s huff came from the speakerphone on the counter next to me. “What did you think would happen? You pay a fleet of attorneys to handle crap, but you told them to ignore the settlement terms! We gotta get ahead of this, Montana.”
“I just got outta the hospital,” I gritted, inclining my head toward the iPhone, growling in pain as I straightened up.
“You should’ve invited the media.”
“I should’ve done a photo op of me being placed into an ambulance? I’m good.”
