I poured her some water anyway, placing it in front of her, and leaned against the sink across from her. “Momma.”
“Boy, don’t make me shame—I raised you better.”
Okay. Progress. She didn’t switch to Louisiana Creole in anger—proper Miss Virginia adjacent.
I said, “Don’t know nothing about Adelle swinging by. Zuri ain’t tell me her last name. Or the name of Darius’s dad. She’s evasive!”
“Pah. She need to tell you about her past? For why?”
“She’s working as a waitress, not using that 3X head.”
“3X …?” Momma sipped her water, then light and comprehension danced in her eyes. “Boy, stop it!”
“Can’t. She has too much potential for HC&PP. She’s …” I glanced toward the line of French doors, as if I could see past the rolling hill, the horse stables, and into my momma’s cottage. See … her. “She’s stubborn.”
“Consider the emotions behind it. Why she set in her ways?”
“Yeah …”
“Non,non! Zuri is smart. Sweet. The girl makes you laugh, Montana. When was the last time a woman made you laugh?”
“Madison—”
“Not family did that? Maddy’s my daughter-in-law until I die.”
“No woman ever made me laugh,” I replied, brave enough to answer. “I’m not feeling her secrets. Gotta know her last name. Have you asked Darius about his dad?”
“I’d never.”
Me either. Little Dude had no filter, but she’d trained him well. “I think his dad put hands on her. The other morning. We were … I mean, I … checked her for scars.”
“When I arrived?” Momma smirked.
“Yeah. She might’ve had scars not everyone could see.”
Momma chortled, stared at me sideways, then her attention panned across the room. “See that rolling pen.”
“Always so violent. Who rubbed off on you? Ezek—” I cut myself off with a fake cough. Damn, Zuri and her jokes. “Sorry, Momma.”
She took another sip of water. “Bébé, say his name.Ezekiel. I done forgave him a long time ago. Best you learn to forgive, Son. You never know how long you’ve got to forgive him.”
My shoulder lifted. “If he dies tomorrow?—”
“Not for him! For you, Montana. Some people been abused all their lives. Thefooldies, and they still hold on, keeping evil alive in their hearts. Whatchu think that does?”
“Momma. The dude reeked of prison. Then he walks up to me, says,Good game.Like he ain’t once told me to stop playing thatwhite-boy gamewhen I was a kid!”
“I know, B?—”
“I was part of Mookie Betts’s program, tryna change that. Tryna show little Black kids they belong on that field.”
“Mon cher,” she sighed.
“I could’ve let him in my head.” I pressed a stiff finger to my dome. “Could’ve let that poison crawl until I’m out here slanging char-broiled oysters for a living. Then he says,I created greatness, now slide your old man a couple bucks.”
“Montana! Don’t you go dwelling on what he said.”
What? She acted as if I brought up old crap.
