“You can have all that.”
“I know,” she said, saucy enough to sound like herself.
“You can have everything,” I promised her.
She looked up at me, cupped my cheek, and whispered, “I already do.”
If it were possible, I fell even harder for my sweet wife in that moment.
“You want to go to Emancipation?” I asked suddenly.
She frowned. “Thursday? Yeah, we have to, crazy?—”
“Nah. Today. Right now. I feel like you need it.”
She sighed as she snuggled against me. “I feel like you right. How about my back rub first, though?”
“You got that,” I said, sliding a hand around her.
A few seconds later, she bit me on my chest.
“Higher, nasty ass!”
I sighed. “Yes, ma'am.”
My husband wasn’t playing.He rubbed my back while he texted to get a flight plan filed, packed while I called out directions from my perch on a heating pad in the bed, and promptly whisked me to Emancipation, Louisiana, population 10,000… on a good day. Once we got there, he almost immediately went to handle business with Real, leaving me in the welcome company of my family’s women.
I was currently under a heavy throw, head in my grandmother’s lap as she scratched softly at my scalp. She did that so good, I could barely keep my eyes open. Granny Nette’s living room always smelled like something good. Today, it was her chocolate pound cake and the faint scent of greens and the roast from what Granny had cooked earlier. Oh, and pine oil. Mygranny loved her Louisiana-brand pine oil. Label be damned, she didn’t dilute it either. The ceiling fan spun lazily overhead while southern soul played low from some speakers. Outside, the heat blazed over Emancipation, but in here, it was blessedly cool… and full.
My mama, Chastity, sat in Granny’s recliner with her legs crossed, looking pretty as ever. Aunt Cynthia occupied the couch beside Hyacinth, who was stretched out, mirroring me, with her head in her mama’s lap while scrolling on her phone. My aunt Elise sat near the window peeling apples with one of Granny’s little knives while her daughters Everly and Emory shared the loveseat. And my grandparents’ baby girl, Saraya, sat on the floor near Granny’s feet.
Every single eye in the room was on me. I should’ve kept my mouth shut about how I was feeling.
“You smiling too hard over there,” Hyacinth observed without looking up from her phone. “That married glow kicking your ass already.”
“It is not,” I denied immediately.
Emory snorted. “Girl, yes, it is.”
“It really is,” Everly agreed.
Mama narrowed her eyes at me. “You got that same look your daddy had when he first realized he was in love,” she bragged.
I pointed at her. “Don’t bring Daddy into this. He gon’ start asking a million questions, acting all overprotective if y’all tell him that.”
Aunt Cynthia laughed softly. “Baby, your daddy already act overprotective where y’all concerned.”
“That man looked ready to shoot Targen at the wedding,” Aunt Elise added.
“That’s because Targen scares everybody,” I muttered.
“No. That man loves you so hard. That’s what scares people,” Granny Nette corrected above me.
The room got quiet. I raised my hand slightly. My wedding ring flashed in the afternoon sun pouring through the curtains. It still caught me off guard sometimes, seeing it there.
Hyacinth finally sat up. “Okay, enough old people wisdom. No offense, Granny. We wanna hear the tea. You really happy?”
I opened my mouth to answer automatically, then stopped, really thought on it.
