Page 134 of The Best Shot

I turned, but he wasn’t looking at me.

“Don’t touch me,” my mother snapped.

“I haven’t.” Ferdinand’s voice remained level. “But you are no longer welcome here.”

I sat down and picked up my fork like nothing had happened.

The jazz kept going.

Then came the click of her heels, sharp and fast across the floor. The door opened. Closed.

Ferdinand straightened a cuff and inclined his head. “Mesdames.” Then he went back to work.

Slowly, the room began stitching itself back together.

Ava started to rise. “Honey⁠—”

“Sit down.”

She hesitated, then lowered herself into her chair.

Annie hadn’t taken her eyes off the door. “Say the word.”

“No need.” I breathed deep. “I’m okay.”

Nobody said anything. Somewhere behind us a cork came out of a bottle.

Tabby covered my hand with her own. “You sure?”

I picked up my drink. The liquid trembled inside it. I set it back down without touching it. “Ask me tomorrow.”

Her face softened. “Okay, hun.”

I looked around the table, at the untouched brownies no one trusted, and at the three women who hadn’t moved an inch the whole time.

My people.

“We’re not letting her ruin this,” I said.

Annie sat back. “You’re better than me.”

“I know.”

She snorted. “Humble too.”

“Yup.” I raised my glass. “Where were we?”

Annie answered before anyone else could. “Trying to figure out if Ferdinand is seeing anybody. Y’all see the way he stood on business just now?”

“Girl, stop,” Tabby said. “He could be your grandfather.”

“I like them with some seasoning.”

Ava laughed. “He’s also been married for thirty years.”

Annie squinted. “Happily?”

“He likes his wife, Annie.”