~9~

“Winny!” immature vocals cried and right away, I heard the pitter-patter of little feet coming my way.

I dropped to my haunches after closing the door, and placed the bag of groceries on the floor next to me. My arms opened wide and welcoming. “Shelly!”

I grabbed his tiny frame in my arms, lifting my nephew off his feet, and shook him in the air.

He pulled back. “Shelly a girl name, Winny!” He pouted.

So smart.

“But it’s a nickname for Sheldon, lil guy.” I ran my hands over his soft braids. “You’re getting so tall. What’re you now, seven?” My eyes widened playfully.

He giggled. “I three, Winny!” The tot tried pushing three fingers in the air. I could tell he’d been practicing. “See?”

“Well, let’s fix you right,” I mumbled, arranging his little digits for him. “There you go!” Sheldon laughed, proudly gaping at his handiwork. I stood to my heeled feet. “You’ve been here all day?” My question was futile. He was too young to know what that meant.

“Mmmmhmmm…” he answered, top lip sucked into his mouth, and little brows pinched as he tried perfecting the length of his fingers.

“Stop lying, LS.” My eyes flew up to find his mother. She was still tiny, still almost like a child herself. Her eyes landed on me lit in awe—of me now being married to one of the most recognizable names in the business, I was sure—and then dimmed in shame, as they always did. “We only been here a few hours, waiting…”

“Waiting on what?”

I shouldn’t have asked. I told myself to stop caring years ago. But I couldn’t take the question back.

“Sheldon. Wanda’s in town. She dropped me off at the doctor this morning. He supposed to be coming to pick us up.” I nodded. Then her eyes fell again. “So, Ragee? Is he as cute in real life as he is on television?”

I hated I couldn’t see her eyes. Her voice, however, was filled with as much wonderment as it used to when our dynamic was simplistic.

Before I could speak, wails from a baby smaller than Sheldon sounded from the back of the house.

“Come get her, Reign! She up,” MaMa yelled from back there.

I reached down to pick up the bag of groceries. “The baby okay? Cold going around?”

Moving in her direction to get to the back, Reign shook her head, sad regard falling to the floor. I didn’t have the capacity to ask what was wrong, neither did I want to discuss details of my fake marriage. There was always something wrong. And more times than not, what was wrong was exactly what I’d been trying to keep her from since she was born. I kept my stride toward the kitchen where I knew MaMa was. Just as I stepped into the hall, the front door pushed open. 

“Yo!” A baritone I was once too conversant with shouted. “Reign!”

I turned toward the living room and peeped a tall figure barreling through. Encased in an orange bubble goose, his fists were clenched at his sides as they always were. His eyes were in search until they landed on me. And per usual, they responded first. Sheldon’s heavy steps halted abruptly and he stood paralyzed for a few seconds. His regard skirted over to his children’s mother, who was closer to him than I was, as he was registering the scene: his surroundings. But they returned to me in a hurry. I guessed he had questions about my recent and unexpected nuptials, too. He fucking knew better than to inquire.

Reign paused, too. With Shelly’s hand in hers, she stood still but for her head swinging to me.

“You ready?” he asked her when the duration of his gape turned awkward.

Reign’s big regretful eyes blinked before her face fell toward her son. “Yeah. Lemme get Hailee together.”

That was my cue. I turned back toward the kitchen and began my journey. Not that I wanted to be here. Returning to this place had always been met with anxiety. But it was my obligation now.

She was my obligation.

Sitting in her wheelchair, MaMa’s upper torso stretched twisted onto the washing machine where she used a coin to scratch off her lottery tickets. I placed the bag on the table to begin to unpack.

“I told you I ain’t need nothing but my Pick 4s.”

Quickly, I snatched the stack of lottery tickets from my pocket and tossed them on the table toward her.

She quieted, examining the quantity of them. It was more than she’d buy on her own and she knew it. I only ever wanted the woman happy, though she made it clear years ago she was no concern of mine and I was none of hers. It hurt me as a kid, and annoyed me now as an adult. The woman was so damn stubborn and…toxic.

“Hmph,” she hummed, returning to what was in her chunky hands. “I guess marrying that great, big ol superstar turned you big time now.”

Ignoring that snide remark, I responded as though it hadn’t been uttered. “You didn’t ask for food, but Van told me you said you didn’t have anything to take with your pills.” I eyed her closely as I pulled out a can of Pringles and a bag of Bugles—her favorite.

She stretched her arm over in the tiny kitchen to reach for the lottery tickets. “Wanda brought me some B-Way Burger last night. I ain’t eat it all.” MaMa wouldn’t look at me. She rarely did.

“Well, here’s some bread, butter, lunch meat, eggs, and snacks. Try not to let these kids running through here eat all your food. I told Van how I told you to call me if you need anything.” I began folding the empty paper bag. “I don’t want him worrying while in there. I told him I had your back.”

“Child, you ain’t gone never have my back,” she scoffed. “I’m a grown ass woman. Been one before you came into this world. Been taking care of myself way before you and since you been coming ‘round here.” Her eyes were glued to the miniature papers in her hands. She snorted, “You got a fancy ol’ husband now. Go work on keeping him faithful.”

Rolling my eyes, I turned to leave. It had been a long day already for me. Earlier, I scarfed down a B-Way Burger, rationalizing the price wasn’t much different from a cheeseburger. Besides, I’d worked out first thing this morning, so I was still on a healthy pursuit. After my workout, I dressed in jeans and the heeled boots Myisha scored for me and paired them with an old turtleneck and leather jacket before heading east on the highway. I may have looked the part, but was tired from getting almost no sleep last night in a new place. Again. 

“When Van coming home?” she demanded.

I glanced over my shoulder. “I’m trying to find that out now. I’ve been working on it every day.”

MaMa’s eyes swung up to the small kitchen window. “You know that car just sitting out there for nothing,” she referred to my Honda Civic. “Lil Reign could use it to bus them babies around. Now, she got another one baking and need the doctor.” She gestured out the window with her forehead. “You should be a good big sister and let her drive it now that you married and rich and thangs.”

“She and Sheldon can figure out transportation for their family,” whisked from my lips as I turned to leave again.

“You gotta let that hate go,” she advised in my wake. “Gotta let go of the past.”

“I’ll let you try first then I’ll go next.”

“Whew!” I pushed out, arms over my head as I stretched.

“You look tired, baby,” Pastor McKinnon observed.

I tried smiling. “I am.”

Earl was over me, taking my empty plate. “What do you think of that lobster mac-n-cheese soufflé?” he murmured.

I grabbed my bulging belly. “You can’t tell? I had three servings of that alone.” I snorted.

Earl cooked his ass off, that was for sure.

“What about you, Pastor McKinnon?” he asked when he arrived to drop off another glass of sweet tea to her.

“You know Grandmother cleaned that plate. That and those sautéed collards she claim she ‘on’t like.” Ragee licked his fingers while chewing then swallowed a forkful of salad.

Salad. All this good food before us and he had a damn salad and cold lobster. He did have a piece of pan fried cornbread, too, but just a modest sized piece.

Ragee’s grandmother laughed, her wide chin dipped. Pastor McKinnon mostly behaved shyly, not like the iron-fist-ruling pastor he would make one perceive her to be. “You know that’s one of my favorites of yours.”

“I know,” Earl’s reply was arrogant, so him. “And I have another favorite up my sleeve—” His one palm flew in the air for mercy. “A healthier creation than the usual, like the soufflé tonight.”

“Better be,” Raj gruffed, but not too seriously. “She came up here to rest. That means to get her numbers right, too. You ain’t mention your blood pressure readings none today,” he reminded his grandmother.

Pastor McKinnon giggled again, enjoying the fuss being made over her. 

“Sweet potato truffle balls.” Earl’s hand formed the perfection sign and he air kissed the tips of his fingers. “A vegan favorite, made with a no-sugar-added sweet potato puree. The only sugar used was a pinch of powder to coat them. They’re beautiful, healthy, and delicious,” Earl announced like a commercial read.

Ragee chomped down on his food as he shook his head in warning. I got the impression he wouldn’t deny his grandmother anything. Though, now, I had the inkling she suffered from high blood pressure—at least. She was clearly obese, easily weighing well over two hundred-eighty pounds. Her arms were like two sausage logs linked together and her belly was a big snowball. Her stout shape wasn’t much different from MaMa’s, just a heftier build.

“I’ll have a couple on the back porch out there,” she informed with a smile and lifted shoulders, stubborn excitement twinkling in her eyes.

“Very well,” Earl agreed with a slight bow. “How about you, Wynter?”

My eyes expanded from being caught off guard by that question. I wanted to be left alone for the night to think…and use the bathroom. For some reason, I thought I’d fulfilled my obligation by having dinner with them. I’d “played nice.”

I blew out a deep breath with my eyes downcast. “I actually have a call I’m expecting soon,” I lied. Van wasn’t due to call for almost an hour. “I may try them later, before bed.” When the room went quiet, I tried adding, “But dinner was another knock out of the park.” I winked, not knowing what else to do.

 “You sure, baby?” Pastor McKinnon asked with lifted brows. “Me and Gee-Gee was gonna go out there by the fire pit and have some tea.”

My eyes flew to Raj, who was wiping his mouth, eyes stapled to me as though awaiting my answer. There was conflict in his orbs. I didn’t think he liked me, but he had a bare minimum line of respect for me. All I wanted was a peaceful ride throughout this unusual agreement. He’d been giving me the coldest of shoulders for months; yet, it seemed when his grandmother stepped on the scene, the paradigm had shifted.  A part of me wanted to shit on him. Raj hadn’t exactly been amicable in marriage or hospitality. Then that tiny, miniscule, yet determined voice cautioned me to just chill. He wanted to please his grandmother, and honestly, there was nothing wrong with that.  

“You more than welcome,” she pushed.

If Raj wanted me to play along I would, but I needed a moment to myself. I’d had another unsuccessful day of working out, getting MaMa’s shit, then on the phone with Van’s lawyer’s office, basically getting nowhere.

My eyes squinted as I fought for the right words. “Okay. Can you give me a minute? I’ll be right out.”

I watched as the muscles around Raj’s eyes loosened.

“Yeah,” he permitted. “You good.”

“Okay, daughter. We’ll be out there,” Pastor McKinnon warmly assured. “Amen?”

“The word of the Lord shall goeth forward and not return void,” she declared and I nodded.

But will accomplish what I desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it…

Her eyes remained on the fire pit between us. “He is the Lord…does not change.”

I hummed. So you are not destroyed…

Grandmother continued with His promises over the crackling fire. “He is the vine; we are the branches. Whoever abides in Him and He in them, he it is that bears much fruit.”

Apart from Me you can do nothing.

“Hallelujah! Praise God Almighty!” she shouted and her body shook with a raised arm.

I was there with her. Maybe my posture, that was slouched on the round padded patio couch with my hand holding my head up, didn’t appear that way, but very few things in life were as nostalgic and uplifting as worshipping with my grandmother as she declared the word of God.

And I could tell she liked this scene. It was the start of winter, but we were out here, over a fire pit and under gas heat post lamps. She was covered in a chenille blanket and I wore a heavy coat with gloves and was good. Grandmother liked this. I brought her out here the first year the house was done and invited her to the back outdoor lounge—an extension of the deck—for tea. She was hesitant, believing it was too cold and not to mention, she didn’t like tea much. But after ten minutes out here and me singing a few of her favorite hymns to her, she relaxed. Now, she requested being out here for praise and worship.

“Yes, God!” she cried, still with the body jerks. And I was comforted by her spirit and His. “If Your people, who are called by Your name would humble themselves and pray and seek Your face and turn from their wicked ways, then we will hear from heaven! Aye! Gloray!” Both hands were in the air and her face tilted to the ground.

I will forgive their sin and will heal their land…

From the corner of my left eye, I saw Jake, the gardener, rolling the salt spreader along the brick walkway around the back of the house. He nodded with a smile, never stopping. My eyes went to the lake, catching the moonlight dancing on the sheet of water. The whole body looked like a mirror, reflecting the lights of the house and constellations of the sky. It was majestic out here. God-scaped.

Movement at the right side of me had my head whip in that direction. Wynter was standing there shivering with a plastered smile. I’d forgotten all about her. It was easy to when you were ushering in God’s presence with Pastor Alberta McKinnon.

“Hope I didn’t take too long.”

“No.” It sounded as though my grandmother was angry, but it was only because she’d been caught up in praise seconds ago. “Come join us.”

Wynter’s eyes sparkled when they moved to me. She giggled soundlessly, temporarily changing my perception of her being around. I found my hand patting next to me, inviting her to sit. Then my brain kicked in and I stood to go over to the waterproof trunk and grabbed a blanket.

“That’s right, Gee-Gee,” my grandmother approved. “Make sure she stay warm. The blanket feel good.”

I opened it up and spread it over her lap and legs. Wynter straightened it, pulling the blanket to lay from her shoulders to feet.

“We was just out here, talking about the goodness of Jesus and remembering His promises.” My grandmother bent over to grab her tea from the edge of the brick pit. “Want some tea, daughter?” she offered.

My eyes rolled over to Wynter. I didn’t know how she’d play this. I knew she could be vulgar and hoped she curved in the presence of clergy.

“No. I’m fine.” Wynter giggled again. “I don’t want to move much. Don’t wanna lose this heat when I start collecting it.”

“Amen.” Grandmother sipped from her mug before putting it down. “Tell me something about yourself, daughter. Gee-Gee ain’t never let me in on his private life.” Her voice was sweet. Humbled. She chuckled. “He told me to ask you about you. He could be a lil smart mouth, too, ya know.” She gave her tender laugh. The one she gave to strangers.

Wynter’s eyes brushed against mine again, mine open wider. “Ummmm…” She turned to face my grandmother again. “I’m twenty-eight and from Garfield. I was raised by my grandparents for most of my childhood.”

“Your family belong to a house of worship?”

“No.” Wynter shook her head. “I have to admit. Sorry about that.”

“No!” My grandmother’s pitch was alarming. “No need to apologize, baby. The Word says, ‘For the unbelieving husband is sanctified by the wife, and the unbelieving wife is sanctified by the husband.’”

…else were your children unclean; but now are they holy.

I snickered to myself, looking toward the lake.

Kids. Yeah, right…

“Thanks!” Wynter spit out at a volume that didn’t match her tone. She pinched her lips, faking a smile. I could tell my grandmother spoke over her head. It was another reason why this whole situation was so effed up. “Well, other than that. There’s really not much to tell. I went to Rutgers. Got my Bachelor’s in psychology and stayed there to get a Master’s in sociology.”

“Ohhhhh,” grandmother sang before Wynter could finish her sentence. “You must be smart.” Her eyes landed on me. “Like my Gee-Gee here. You know…he skipped the sixth grade. Graduated a whole year early.” Her eyes dropped and she mumbled, “Trouble came to him in high school. You know those years can be testing for kids.”

I sat up in my chair, feeling crazy uncomfortable, silently praying for this conversation to move forward. I didn’t talk about my past, and definitely didn’t want my grandmother doing it in front of strangers. Not this one.

“Oh.” Wynter turned to me, shock wearing on her face for the first time.

“Yup. He was the smartest out of all my babies coming and going through my house. And I had some smart ones,” her voice traveled. “The Lord ushered some good people in my doors. More good than bad.”

I twisted in my seat, throat feeling tight. Worst of all, I could feel Wynter’s eyes on me again.

“I wasn’t the smartest,” I reminded her, trying to switch gears in this conversation. “Remember Leonard?”

“Oh! My lil Leonard,” she cried. “I forgot about him ‘cause I lost him so young.”

I never forgot about Leonard. Never forgot about any of the people running in and out of my grandmother’s two-family house. Especially blood family members. Now with my thoughts traveling there, I didn’t want to stay on this topic either.

“Who’s Leonard?” Wynter faced my grandmother, but her eyes were on me. They were glassy all of a sudden.

“One of my foster kids. He was gifted. Princeton ran tests on his intellect. But he was a sickly child. Died of a bad asthma attack. Learned a while after that, I had mold in my walls.” This time, her eyes shot out to the water. “House was old. It was all I had to serve the people of God.”

“Raj, you adopted?” That sharp blurt snapped me out of the dark memory lane my grandmother was taking me.

Wynter’s face was wrinkled, lips pouted as her eyes bounced between my grandmother and me.

“Oh, God no!” My grandmother giggled. “Oh, God no. You must ain’t tell her much, Gee-Gee.” She laughed again before explaining. “The Lord made it that I housed a lot of children and wayward adults. But Ragee here is my own. He’s my oldest daughter’s child. He ain’t my only grand, but one of many.”

Wynter’s mouth formed an “O,” but those eyes were growing more and more chinky as she struggled to stay on top of this conversation. How could she not? She was getting little known details about my childhood. Things I didn’t want out there.

“Gee-Gee,” my grandmother’s brows were meeting. “You checked on Kevin?”

I licked my lips. “Last week. I called. Supposed to be seeing him soon.”

“I tarried in prayer years and years for that relationship to mend. I’m glad it finally is.”

“Grandmother, I won’t say all that. We’re in touch ‘cause we have a common interest.”

“And what’s that?” Another blurt by Wynter, her eyes dancing between us again for the first contributor to her inquiry.

“Well, aren’t you a curious lil thing!” My grandmother laughed, peeping it, too. “Gee-Gee, I see you still like to keep secrets. Still playing mouse, huhn?” I hit her with a blank face, but she was used to that from me. “My Gee-Gee here was a boxer. Started in high school. I stood before the Lord many days and many nights, petitioning for that not to be his profession. It’s so dangerous. I wanted him to be a minister of song, and I guess God had other plans. But, at least he didn’t make him a boxer because his daddy been knocked up side his head too many times,” she mumbled, seeming upset as she usually was when this came up.

Next to me, I could hear Wynter hum, “Ohhhhh. Upper Cut. His father…”

My eyes closed as I fought to keep myself together. It’s not that it was the biggest deal in the world. My father’s reputation as a trainer had been documented before via in depth interviews. 

“You know, daughter, it’s okay you ain’t saved yet. I’m sure my grandson working on it. Do you read the Word?” Grandmother’s eyes sat determined at that question.

Wynter turned my way silently for a few seconds. “A little,” she answered with her eyes on me. “That’s rubbed off on me from him.”

What the…

“That’s good.” My grandmother’s night was made. “What’s the Lord been ministering to your spirit about?”

No…

My grandmother had to stop believing everybody was on the same level spiritually. Most people who start the Bible don’t have the knowledge or discernment to understand and interpret it.

“Right now I’m at the book of Ruth. I guess you can say it’s been troubling my spirit.”

My face fell.

“How, daughter?” Grandmother was game for it all. Genuinely. It’s what she’d devoted her life to, expounding the Word of God.

Wynter leaned over, putting her elbows on her knees. “I think a tale like that is outdated.”

“How?” I couldn’t help myself.

“C’mon. The story of a young vibrant woman, clinging to her dead husband’s mother? The fable started out with the whole family moving from their home, a barren land, in search of a better life.” Fable? “Then slowly, all the men die, leaving the women helpless.” She clapped her hands and shrugged with a smile. “What woman in this century is helpless in the absence of a man? Marriage isn’t the institution it once was.”

“No?” my grandmother asked, already engaged.

“No. It was clearly so serious back then because the daughters-in-law were too afraid to go out and start over again. What woman nowadays do you know who would feel after one relationship is done, they can’t move on? I mean, back then it was so bad they clung on to their mother-in-law. The smart one eventually said, ‘bye’, and chucked the deuces. Ruth was too afraid. She was so afraid they left the place”—she snapped her fingers to jog her memory—“Moab with Naomi and went back home. Together. Like helpless kids. And you know why? Because that’s how imperative it was to be with a man. A woman alone could not make a living.”

“But the beauty of the story…” Grandmother sat up in her seat, getting ready, “…was the ministry in Boaz’s generosity and the romance that appeals to young girls like you. The young people…single people I preach that to seem to get it.”

“Not this one. There’s no romance in that.”

Not that I thought it was myself, but I wanted to know. “Why not?”

“Why should it be?” Wynter laughed bitterly, but not withdrawing. “Boaz wasn’t even checking for ol’ girl when he laid eyes on her. Romance stories usually have that element. Yeah, he looked out for her, didn’t kick her off his property, but never invited her over or to dinner.”

“In Chapter two, he asks his servants who Ruth belonged to. That ain’t checkin’ for her?” I asked. “I could take that to mean he was checkin’ shawtie out.”

Wynter shook her head. “After he offered her to pick up the scraps his men left behind, that chick thanked him a lil too thickly, said a special prayer for dude and all. No!” She swung her head to emphasize. “We don’t do that in this day and age. We move on. We get our own. If that’s what marriage was necessary for back then, for women to eat and have a roof over their heads, it sure ain’t necessary now.”

My grandmother and I locked eyes. What could have, at first, been a panic on my part, yielded to compassion. Wynter missed the ministry in that story.

“Boaz was a guardian-redeemer. It was his responsibility to care for family on hard times,” my grandmother tried.

“Yeah. And about that,” Wynter piped up, index finger raised in the air. “Those roles don’t exist anymore. Everybody’s out for themselves. I see you were sorta one with opening your home and such, but trust me, as the needing party, people look out for themselves, no matter how well off they are.”

“You missed every nugget in that jawn.” I tried to hide the laughter in my voice. Wynter’s glassy eyes were big again, questioning. “Marriage back then may have been about survival for women, but it was also about structure for a man. A woman fixed a home, cooked needed food, kept him clean, and stretched the money he made. Without that woman, the man would be useless. Men only knew how to work. To labor—that one thing. Women knew how to cultivate. How to grow and prosper. How to sow seed and bring it to harvest.”

“Speak it, son,” my grandmother pushed unnecessarily in the background, clapping her hands.

I wasn’t ministering to anybody. I was enlightening her. She viewed it one dimensionally.

“I don’t see that changing much in this generation.” I rubbed my cold itchy nose, sitting back. “What’s crazy is the gods of today, tryna teach us we’re independent of each other. How men and women don’t need each other—even to have babies now. Nah.” I chuckled. “Some women don’t need men to eat, but we need each other to survive this…” I almost cursed, “…backwards world we’ve made, somehow.”

Wynter’s eyes squinted and she whispered, “Since when have you been pro-marriage?”

I leaned in close, keeping my voice just as low. “Since when haven’t you needed me to eat?”

A phone ringing broke our gaze. Wynter jumped in her seat then pulled the phone from her pocket.

“Ut!” She yanked the blanket from her lap. “This is that call. Gotta take this.”

She took long lunges back to the house and slid inside with the phone to her ear, already talking. I wondered was it to her man. She was a weird one. When I turned back to face my grandmother, she was looking at me already, something in her eyes. I wouldn’t go there. Didn’t want to open that discussion.

“You got ya hands full.” A smile played at the corners of her dark lips.

“You ‘on’t know the half,” I breathed, relaxing into my seat.

“You just hang on in there—and pulease try to keep your nose clean,” I begged. “It’s one thing to get your lawyer’s attention from out here. It’d be another to have him walk into more charges once he finally steps into the courtroom.”

I rolled my eyes, ambling out of the study.

“Girl, chill. I ain’t new to this,” Donovan tried playing tough. “Ain’t nobody in here fucking with me.”

“Yeah.” I snorted. “Let’s hope not.”

“Just take care of MaMa for me.”

“I’m trying, Van. But you know she ain’t no Wynter Blue subscriber.”

“A what?” he squealed.

A smile crested on my face. “Nothing. I’m doing my part. I got you.”

“A’ight. Gotta go.”

“Peace, beast. See ya lata!” I disconnected the call mid his chuckle.

The house was peacefully quiet on my way back to the master suite. I wondered if Raj and his grandmother were still outside having church. I was tired. The lack of sleep was catching up with me. By the time I arrived at the top of the steps and rounded the corner, I was winded. The doors were closed and when I crossed the room, I saw the balcony door off the sitting room was ajar.

Hmmmm…

Music softly flowing in the brisk air hit me immediately. There was another gas heat lamp out here, a patio set, and…the distinct aroma of a cigar. My nipples stung at that scent, something about experiencing the fumes of a stogie on a dark grayish blue night with the sharp strum of strings from Ameerah flowing and the soft gold glow stirred my groin. Raj sat with his back to me, his head tilted to the side, and a two-inch stack of papers in front of him. From the amount flipped over, I could tell he was once in a read.

“Hey, Gee-Gee! This her violin or cello?” I bounced onto the patio, catching a view of the lake en route to him. “Wow…” I breathed, my eyes caught in the sharpness of the reflection of the water.

“Violin,” he answered my question first then addressed the view. “Gorgeous. Right?” he husked.

With my eyes locked, mesmerized on the unmoving sheet of the lake, I nodded. “I didn’t have this view from my room…” I caught myself. The room Pastor McKinnon now occupied wasn’t exactly my room.

“It ain’t supposed to.” I turned to him. Ragee tapped the body of the cigar, dumping its ashes into the silver metal tray. He brought it back to his mouth, eyes squinting from the smoke. “My room should have the best view.”

Observing him in his relaxed environment and state, I noticed the mountain of papers had formatted lines on there and loads of words. His phone lay beside it, lighting up with alerts and messages successively. Several candles were lit, and there was a tumbler with familiar brown hued liquid inside.

“Hey, that’s that Mauve from downstairs?” Raj nodded. “That shit is official.” I laughed. “I had like three shots after dinner, and my head ain’t hurting, mouth ain’t dry either.”

Raj’s head cocked to the side, his brows met. “You were tipsy, kickin’ it with my grandmother?”

My face froze and eyes circled. “I wouldn’t say tipsy. Just nice.” I took the seat across from him. “I needed to relax and have a minute alone,” I shrugged, “so I found my way to your bar and discovered Mauve.” My eyes lit. “I’d never heard of it before. It looked close to Henny, so I gave it a shot.”

My smile was goofy as I shrugged again. Raj hadn’t moved an inch. He seemed stuck. Was I not allowed to have his liquor?

Oh, god…

This is going to be such a miserable ass time.

“You drank just before sitting down with Pastor McKinnon.” His voice was low, staccato crisp. “You crazy?”

My eyes blossomed. “No. Is Pastor McKinnon crazy?” Raj snorted and shook his head. He sat up to dump ashes and god knows what. My palms pushed out. “Raj, easy. I’m not trying to rag on your grandmother. I’m just not used to this church thing or having to put on for someone’s grandmother.”

“Yeah, well, you been putting on for everybody else just fine, from what I can tell.”

“But she’s different. She’s like…real.” He eyed me suspiciously. “Dude, I actually like your grandmother. Like I told her, I had one, too. I even got another, who’s been a pain in my ass.” I rolled my eyes, thinking about MaMa’s coldness earlier. Nothing new, but still hurtful. “So, it’s good to see one that at least tries to be wholesome.”

“She don’t try,” he corrected, “she is.”

I shot my palms in the air again, expressing peace. “Well, I did learn we’ve got something in common like Bobby and Whitney.” I danced with my neck and head.

“What’s that?” His top lip curled.

“We were both skipped in middle school. But I got skipped twice, so that makes me smarter.” I Nay-nayed backward.

When I stopped and laughed to myself, I saw Ragee was still unmoved.

“I woulda never thought with how dirty ya mouth is.”

“I’m like any other urban girl: I can swing it both ways. You never know which way I’m coming, and that’s how I like it.” Raj didn’t give me the humor I would’ve preferred, but the muscle between his brows loosened and that was enough to keep me talking. “And speaking of the both of us being smart, it brings something else to mind.” Raj didn’t ask what, but I had his eyes. “If I was ever crazy enough to sign a fucking contract to have kids by you, at least my kids would be exceptionally bright. But! Two things wrong with that.” His chin dipped.

I stood to my feet. “I’m never ever having fucking kids and that ain’t in my contract!” Immediately, my body shuddered. I sauntered over to the bedroom door. “So, that shit’ll never ever be in the rhythm of my blues!” I sang playfully, stepping inside.

“Hold up.”

I took a step in reverse. Raj was turned, facing me. He did a reverse nod for me to come back.

I sat in the seat across from him again and watched him take a deep pull on the cigar.

He blew it out as he spoke. “That phrase you like to use reminded me of my word to you.”

“Which is?”

“To help you out with your music. We can get started tomorrow.”

My face lit up again. This time with pure shock. “Are you serious?” Raj gave one nod, expression stoic. I covered my big ass smile. “Oh, my god! What time? I hope it’s not too early. I have to work out in the morning—even though I ain’t seeing much results…” I caught Raj’s eyes run from my neck to my lap.

His eyes aligned with mine again. “You good in the morning.”

I nodded. “Okay.”

Ragee nodded once and pulled the stogie to his mouth, dismissing me. This feeling was familiar. He was shutting me out. So, I stood again to go inside.

“Oh,” he husked while I passed him. I stopped and looked at him. His eyes were straight ahead, into the dark sky. “I appreciate you being respectful, even when talking about the Word.”

“Oh.” I smiled, half way remembering that conversation. “You like that?”

He scoffed. “She did. Funny thing was, I was reading the book of Ruth last night.” He muttered in thought. “It was the last thing I remember.”

“Yeah. That’s why I read it. I saw it open on your chest this morning, so I checked it out when I got in today before dinner.”

Ragee’s head shot up and his gaze almost seared me. Maybe I shouldn’t have shared that.

“You read it because of that?”

I shrugged, face folded. “You fell asleep to it, must’ve been captivating. I don’t know many guys finding interest in the Bible. Thought I’d check out what had your attention.”

I moved to leave again. This was feeling too awkward.

“Thanks for coming out to kick it with my grandmother.”

I stopped again, turning just my head. “It’s no biggie. I had gas anyway. Messed up my stomach again, overindulging on that soufflé.” I grabbed my belly, remembering it. “That’s another reason I took the shot, hoping it would soothe it, at least. It worked. Maybe I should have it more often.” Then I thought. “Nah. Can’t have it in the morning after my cereal or in the middle of the day with a grilled cheese and cream of tomato.” I shrugged, turning to go back inside.

I still had Mauve in my system, I could tell. Plus, it was cold out.

“You’re eating wrong.”

“Tell me about it. Too much, too.”

“No.” That brusque clarification had me turn completely around, now by the door. Ragee turned to face me, too. “You might be lactose intolerant.” I mouthed what screamed in my head as I considered the possibility. Noooooo… I couldn’t be lactose intolerant. I’d always been able to consume milk and cheese, even when my grandfather couldn’t because it would send him to the bathroom. Even when I moved in with MaMa and them, Van and Wanda couldn’t eat dairy products because it would irritate their stomachs. I had to buy my own milk and ice cream. “I can get you on a diet to tell. Can help you with the working out, too.”

Instantly, I sobered at that offer. What weight did his grandmother have with Ragee? All of this because she was staying here?

After a deep swallow, I murmured, “Okay…”

Raj turned in his seat, placed the cigar in his mouth, and pulled up the packet of papers from the table to read. It took a few seconds, but eventually I was able to turn back for the door and head into the suite. My first stop was the bathroom where I was able to catch my brain up with my ears and process his offer.

I made it down into the kitchen, hungry as hell when I saw two men at the table in conference. Ragee was sitting with papers in front of him and Earl’s big frame hovered over him while fingering the document. Raj’s eyes caught me first. Earl’s head rolled up after.

“Aye,” Ragee’s expression was serious, but tone soft. “Here’s the woman of the hour. I thought I was gonna have to wake you. Sit.” His eyes flicked to the chair in front of him. “Let’s talk.”

Motionless, my eyes lolled between the two. “This looks serious. I need my Jay’s and Vaseline? Who we need to touch?”

Earl snickered and Raj shook his head, trying to hide the amusement playing at his lips.

He nodded to the seat again and I obeyed this time.

“Time to talk about a key component of weight loss: diet,” Raj announced the moment I settled into my seat.

“Uh—Okay. Just like that, huhn? No lube to prep me?”

Earl covered his mouth as he guffawed with his shoulders raised.

Raj smirked, still trying to remain controlled. “Nah, but you gonna need it for this.”

Earl stepped away. “Lemme go get this stuff started.”

“First things first.” Raj peered into me in a way I wasn’t used to. In fact, I wasn’t used to his regard at all. “How much do you weigh and how much you tryna lose?”

“It’s not polite to ask a woman how much she weighs,” I partially joked, severely self-conscious around the man.

I hated he intimidated me so.

“But I told you I’d help you lose weight.”

“Then do it.”

He sat back in his chair. “Look. How much you weigh doesn’t matter to me. You look good…healthy. But I’m a man of my word.”

“As am I.” My marrying him was indicative of that.

“Do you wanna lose weight or what?”

“Yes.”

“You gonna let me help, or nah?”

I shrugged. “Yes.”

“Then how much do you weigh and what do you wanna lose?”

I swallowed hard, deciding to go with it. “I’m one ninety-two now.”

“Damn!”

My pulse jumped. “Are you fucking judging?”

“No!” His eyes blew up. “No. I just can’t see it is all. I know you’re a little hippy, but I would have never put you near two hundred pounds.”

“Well, I was one ninety-seven until we moved up here in the damn country, miles away from a damn B-Way Burger.” I rolled my eyes, dead serious about that.

“That’s the problem. Your diet.”

“It can’t be that bad; I lost five pounds.”

“Because you’re being fed by a world class chef.”

“Hallelujah, brother!” Earl encouraged from the other side of the room. His thick accent made it not believable.

“Earl can make just about any cuisine, but he stays away from meals high in saturated fats. It doesn’t work with my lifestyle.”

“So, you’re the reason for the skimpy meals around here?”

“I heard that!” Earl warned. “I bet I can fry chicken and whiting better than your grandmother.”

Ragee ignored him. “I get good eating versus good eating. It took me a few years to adjust, and that’s just what it is: a lifestyle adjustment.” I chewed the inside of my mouth, this all smelled commitment-ishy. “You never said how much you want to lose. Please don’t say you wanna be a size four.” His head rocked left to right, side to side as though the thought exhausted him.

“What if I do?”

“I’d call you crazy. You’d look sick, if this is how you’re carrying a buck ninety. Please go with something reasonable.”

“One forty-five—hell, I’ll take one fifty. I just want it off.”

Ragee took a deep breath, his eyes cast to the table as he hummed his thought process. “A’ight. We can do that, but only if you adhere to this workout schedule and diet plan.”

“What’s the diet plan?”

As if on cue, Earl arrived back at the table with a tall glass of yellowish water.

“Looks like piss.”

Ragee nodded toward the glass. “Try it.”

I took a gulp. Wrong move. I choked on it. Coughing, I yelled, “This shit is bitter as hell! This is a potion. You tryna kill me?”

Earl laughed sinisterly, I knew to get back at my jab about his über healthy food.

“This’ll be the first thing you drink in the morning, and early in the morning. You have to get on an eating schedule. Think of it as a cleanser, a diuretic. A good way to get your day started.”

“This can’t be breakfast.”

“It’s not.” Ragee glanced across the kitchen to Earl. He’d just turned on the blender. “You’ll have a protein shake before you work out. After your work out, you’ll have one of these meals.”

He slid one of the papers across the table to me. It was a list of breakfast food items.

“These all look…healthy.” I shivered.

“I’ll make them good for you, baby,” Earl sang from the other side of the kitchen.

With sobering eyes, Raj bowed. “He will. Trust me. Now.” He slid another paper in front of me. “Here are your lunch and dinner items he’ll prepare a combination of. They’ll be switched up, so you won’t get bored with them. Or you just may not like a few.”

“Yeah, like tofu.” I read from the paper. “Arugula? Who the fuck eats this?”

“Wynter, my grandmother, a leader of a religious organization is lurking.”

I recoiled in shame. “My bad.”

Then another paper was before me. “Here are the foods you can’t eat, no matter what. You’re gonna need this in case you’re not here for lunch or dinner and Earl can’t choose for you.”

“No soda?” I gasped. “No dairy products? But my milk. Chili cheese fries…ice cream—”

“I was serious about you possibly being lactose intolerant. You should go get that checked out. In any case, these items won’t get you to your goal.”

I sat back in my seat and for the next twenty minutes, I was lectured on the do’s and don’ts of this new diet and exercise lifestyle I was about to embark on.