WIFEY: So you got my text. Don’t debate me.
ME: WHY?
WIFEY: When ex-wives appear, people get testy asking about when this creature of the night is gonna leave? I’ll pass.
ME: You’re Zuri’s bridesmaid. How you gonna handle wedding stuff if you can’t attend a cookout with fewer people?
WIFEY: I’ll suck it up then. It’s a pass today, though. If your cousin is there, she’ll say something outta pocket. And I’m not afraid of Genèse anymore. Heartbreak has its perks
ME: Come … for me, bébé.
I turned around and placed my forearms on the hood of the Land Rover. Waited two minutes. Yep, I’d counted in my head. She wasn’t gonna respond. I sent one more message to the effect of, I always want you beside me, but I respect your decision.
Please.All I sent her ass was a thumbs-up because heartbreakdidhave its perks. And she didn’t like that emoji.
As I moved toward the door, I spied Montana walking hand in hand with Zuri, and the son he’d soon adopt at his other side. Darius had recently turned five, so close in age to Elijah. I didn’t know which made my heart tighten more: it hurting to watch him because of that or because they’d passed the spot where Madison went buck wild on my Bentley. I tried to blame it on the car since the little dude was a good kid. I needed to be comfortable around children again. I wanted children again.
Zuri looped her Sisterlock behind her ear and gave me a hug. “Aw, man, you’re solo? I spoke with Madison earlier.”
“How’d that work out for you?” I asked, nodding at my little brother. His expression signaled that we needed to get down to business.
“Maddy agreed to meet me later this week to discuss bridesmaids’ dresses … just not here. She joked about not being a cliché. Returning to the scene of a crime.” Zuri shook her head.
Montana chuckled, all teeth and ego. “Maddy still says it like it is, huh? I see why you’re tryna marry her again. Don’t steal our wedding date though, bruh.”
“I’m taking that woman down to the courthouse,” I said. “Our wedding was free in San Jose. California beach vibes. Bluetooth speaker. And a classmate-preacher who wore sandals that go between the toes.”
“Flip flops?” Zuri lifted a brow.
“That,” Montana barked a laugh. “Real men. We don’t do stuff like that. Momma’s still mad you ain’t let her preacher say the vows.” He kissed Zuri on the cheek and glanced down atDarius. “Go on in,chère. Grown-folk talk. Darius, we’ll ride Croc later.”
“Oh, yeah!” Darius perked up.
I frowned. “Ya’ll riding what?”
Montana smirked. “His horse. Zuri lost her damn mind the first time I mentioned it.” Montana watched them walk up the porch, then his tone dropped. “Bruh, we’ve got a problem.”
“I felt something was off with Momma hosting her Wednesday night dinners here instead of the Hot Chicken & Peach Pit Maison. Not like her to switch up. No word from Texas after all these months?”
My brother roughed a hand over his face as Tennessee’s truck rumbled up the drive. Ash from firefighting clung to his cornrows as he got out, eyes tired, boots heavier than his mood.
Montana said, “Man, I hired two PIs. One here. One in LA. Both swear they’re top dog. Both charge like they know it. Ain’t neither found Texas.”
“Uh …” Tennessee sat on the bottom step of the porch, elbows on knees. “Y’all’s pops … said he saw my twin.”
The air thickened. I always forgot that me and Montana shared that deadbeat. The twins had the daddy I still aspired to be. Marcel Babineaux was the dad who raised us. And he died too soon, all after he gave me and Montana his last name. A solid last name.
Montana leaned a shoulder against the Doric column. “Is he asking for money to give us something?”
“Ezekiel … may not do that,” I muttered. Then again, confidence wasn’t my ministry when he was involved. The family tree had sent out his eviction notice when I was five.
Tennessee shook his head. “Nah. Zek said Texas looked in a bad way.”
Montana’s shoulders went rigid. That swagger drained like bourbon. “Bad way? Like what?”
“Like he had enemies. Ezekiel said Texas disappeared out the back of the Dollar Store where he works. Some dudes had just walked in.” Tennessee’s jaw flexed. “Looked sketchy.”
“What looked sketchy?” Momma’s voice sliced clean through the air.
