She gave me a look like she knew exactly what that meant but let it go.
Another knock hit the door.
I knew that knock.
“Don’t move,” I told Charlee. “You just got here.”
I opened it to see Charlie Mac standin’ there, smellin’ like cologne and trouble in a good suit for no reason.
“Well, damn,” he said, lookin’ at my belly. “You sure it’s only two in there?”
“Hi, Charlie,” I said dryly.
He grinned, kissin’ my cheek as he stepped in. “You look good, baby. Motherhood sittin’ on you nice.”
“Motherhood sittin’ on my bladder,” I muttered. “Come on.”
He greeted everybody, dapped up Trend, kissed Charlee on the temple like she was his own.
“Alright,” he said, lookin’ around. “This cozy. I like it.”
“Don’t start inspectin’ my house like you bought it,” I told him, easin’ back onto the couch. “You a guest.”
He chuckled and sat in the armchair across from me.
Dinner was smelling good as hell.
Trend had made baked chicken, cabbage, yams, and rice. Between that and Charlee’s mac and cheese, I was halfway in love with the table.
We all sat down, Trend at the head, me on his right, Charlee on my other side, Truce across from us, Charlie Mac at the other end.
“Let’s pray,” Trend said.
He reached for my hand and Charlie’s, and we passed it around the table.
Lord, thank you for this food, this family, these babies, the usual black man blessin’. My eyes stung halfway through and I had to look down so nobody would clock it.
“Amen,” everybody said.
Plates got passed, food landed heavy.
“You eatin’ for three, Fee,” Charlee said, watchin’ me pile my plate.
“And?” I said. “Mind your business.”
“I’m just sayin’ you blessin’ them babies,” she teased.
Truce smirked. “She blessin’ us too. The way she holdin’ that pan, ain’t gon’ be nothin’ left.”
“Watch your mouth,” I told him, but I was laughin’.
Charlie Mac sat back, lookin’ around the table like he was takin’ mental pictures.
He chewed on a bone, then wiped his mouth.
“So…” he said, eyes cuttin’ to Charlee. “Y’all got somethin’ you wanna say?”
Charlee stiffened. “Who is ‘y’all’?”
