Page 24 of Worth the Trip

“I trust Landon.”

I covered my laugh with a cough.

Pops looked at me. “Don’t.”

Lennox appeared just long enough to start toward the dining room.

Pops called after him. “You ain’t fix nothing.”

“I supervised.”

“From the refrigerator.”

“Leadership comes in different forms.”

“Boy.”

I washed my hands and followed everybody to the table.

Mama had called dinner simple, which in her house apparently meant roasted chicken, smoked-turkey green beans, buttery mashed potatoes, candied yams, baked macaroni and cheese, cornbread, sweet tea, and peach cobbler cooling on the counter. She’d never learned how to cook for the number of people expected to eat. Every meal looked like cousins might start pulling into the driveway at any moment.

Lennox reached toward the cornbread before we prayed.

Mama didn’t even look at him. “Don’t let your hand beat your prayer.”

“I was moving it.”

“Move it back.”

He did.

Pops pulled Mama’s chair out before sitting beside her, and we bowed our heads.

“Father, thank You for bringing us together again. Thank You for keeping this family through another week, for every mercy we noticed and every one we didn’t. Bless this food, bless this home, and keep us mindful of one another. In Jesus’ name.”

“Amen.”

Lennox immediately grabbed the cornbread.

Mama stared at him.

“What? We prayed.”

Pops shook his head while serving bowls started moving around the table. Lennox spooned macaroni onto his plate, stared at it longer than common sense recommended, then looked toward Mama.

“This look different.”

Her expression changed.

I leaned back in my chair.

He was about to learn something.

“What look different?”

“The macaroni.”

“It look seasoned.”