“Hey, pretty lady. Why didn’t you let Daddy do this?”
“Because he won’t do it the way I want. How are you, Sweet Pea?”
I kissed her cheek before responding. “I’m good and hungry. Is it almost time to eat?”
“The food is done, and we can start bringing it out once your brother gets here.”
“He’s here. He was talking to Nyeem out front.”
“Okay. Let’s go inside and start bringing out the food.”
“What did you cook?” I asked as we headed toward the house.
“Your father marinated some chicken breasts and thighs overnight in teriyaki and jerk sauce and grilled them this afternoon. I made fried rice, corn fritters, and grilled asparagus.”
“My goodness. That sounds so good. I’m starving.”
My brother, Nygel Jr., who everyone called Robby, which was short for his middle name, Robert, entered the kitchen with Nyeem behind him, just as my mother and I entered the patio door.
“Hey, Mimi!” Nyeem greeted my mother, Robyn, excitedly, then hugged her and kissed her cheek.
“There’s my baby. Where’s that lil girl you call yourself dating?”
“Dang, Mimi. You sound like Mama. Why y’all keep coming for my girl?”
“I don’t know what your mother said about her, but I just asked where she was.”
“Yeah, but you said that lil girl. Everybody knows what grown Black women mean when y’all put ‘lil’ in front of something.”
“You right, Nephew. They’re letting you know they don’t like her in the nicest way possible,” my brother said.
“Whatever, Robby. I have nothing against that lil girl. Wash your hands and grab a dish to bring outside. You too, Nyeem,” my mother said.
A few minutes later, we were seated in the gazebo. We held hands as my father blessed the food, then we began piling our plates with food.
“So, what’s new, Sweet Pea? How was the singles mixer?”
“Nothing’s new, Ma. The mixer was fine.”
I did my best to control my facial expressions while thoughts of Kilo ran through my mind.
“You didn’t meet anyone you wanted to go out with?” she pressed.
I shook my head. “Not really, but we had a good time.”
“Damn, I planned to go to that, but I got caught up,” Robby said.
My father laughed. “It was probably better that you didn’t go. All those damn women you’re messing around with would’ve started a damn brawl.”
“Don’t do me like that, Pops, but you ain’t wrong. That would’ve been a disaster.”
“What’s up with you, Grandson?” Dad asked.
“Nothing much. I’m just trying to finish the school year and track season strong.”
“You know, college track is a lot different from high school. You could be running against men who compete at the highest level. Are you ready for that?”
Nyeem nodded. “I know, GP, and I’m ready.”
