“There she is!” her mother squealed when she entered the living room.
“Here I am.” Niyah looked around and didn’t see Xander. He must have gone to change. It was either that or her mother had said something offensive and run him away. “Where’s Xander?”
“I’m here.” Xander walked into the living room wearing a T-shirt that clung to the ridges of his pronounced abs. Niyah’s eyes grew wide with lust before she could help herself. And judging by his smirk, Xander had noticed.
“Dinner’s ready!” her mother announced from the dining area. “Get it while it’s hot.”
Naomi made a face that made Niyah laugh.
“What’s funny, Niyah? Get in here!” fussed her mother in a heavy German accent.
“I’m laughing at Naomi, Mom!”
Naomi frowned. “Um-mm, lady, don’t try to throw me under the bus.”
Niyah rolled her eyes and grabbed Xander’s hand. “You ready for this treat?” she asked sarcastically.
In full understanding of her sarcasm, Xander raised a brow. “I don’t know that I am,” he muttered.
Niyah giggled and pulled him to the table. Xander sat, and Naomi sat next to him.
“Mom, do you need any help?” Niyah called into the kitchen.
“Nope.” She entered the dining area with two bowls in her hand. She placed one in front of Xander and the other in front of Niyah. Xander smiled. “Thank you, Mrs. Bauer.”
Ms.,” her mother corrected. “I’ve never been married. Better yet, please call me Gretta.”
“Thank you, Gretta,” Xander complied. “Smells good.”
“Great,” their mother beamed before disappearing into the kitchen. She came back out with two more bowls. She sat one in front of Naomi and carried the other to the empty seat that she chose. “Bon appetit.”
Xander grabbed his fork and went to work on the stew. Niyah and Naomi gave each other a look. Niyah picked up her fork and fished out the ingredients that she was willing to eat. Naomi did the same. “You don’t have to eat it,” she whispered to Xander.
“I like it,” Xander admitted with a shrug.
“Stop lying!” Naomi whispered through gritted teeth.
Niyah dropped her head and stifled her laughter. Xander waswhite white. Bland, European food probably suited him just fine.
Her mother tossed her blonde hair over her shoulder. “What are you saying, Naomi?”
“Nothing,” Naomi lied.
She glared at her sister with pursed lips. Niyah just knew she was about to give her a good read. But to Niyah’s complete surprise, she didn’t. She turned her way with an unexpected compliment. “That dress you had on earlier… I love it.”
“Really?” Niyah studied her mother to see if she was serious. She didn’t give many compliments.
“Yes. I like it when you dress like a woman. You’re either wearing those Hilary Clinton pantsuits or those God-awful scrubs.”
Niyah shook her head. She just couldn’t help herself. “Okay, well, thanks,” she muttered.
“Would’ve been perfect if your hair were normal,” she remarked.
Niyah peered at her mother. “What isnormalhair, Mom?”
“Combed!”
“Locs aren’t meant to be combed, Mother,” Naomi chimed.
