19
T h e d i n i n g t a b l e looked like it was pulled straight from one of those bougie holiday magazines I used to scroll past on Pinterest. From the table settings Woods and I picked up yesterday to the food, I’d outdone myself, and I wasn’t even mad about it.
Woods helped carry everything to the dining table while Vanessa hummed softly to Ella Mai. My dad pulled out one of the chairs for her, and I could tell their vibe was different from the other women he had spoken to briefly. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it yet, but it was something, and I couldn’t wait to ask all about them.
“Baby girl, you ain’t playing this year,” my dad said, looking over the spread before sitting down. “This looks like somebody’s grandma cooked all this.”
I smirked. “Better. Your daughter did.”
“Shit,” he chuckled, adjusting in the seat. “Let me give you your flowers while I still got taste buds.”
We all laughed, settling in. Woods took the seat next to me, resting his hand low on my thigh beneath the table, and I could feel the comfort he brought just by being there.
Vanessa raised her glass. “To Christmas, good food, and being surrounded by grown folks that actually like each other.”
“Amen to that,” my dad added, lifting his glass high. “And to my baby girl holding it down like she always does.” We clinked glasses, but I only lifted my ginger ale. And apparently, that didn’t go unnoticed. My dad paused mid-sip, brow slightly raised. “Ginger ale?” he asked, glancing at me over the rim. “You off tequila tonight?”
Woods’ hand tensed just a little on my leg. My heart thumped once hard in my chest, but I kept my smile easy and reached for a honey butter biscuit like the question hadn’t made me nervous. “Not really in the mood to drink tonight,” I said with a slight shrug.
“Mmm,” he said, the way fathers do when they know something but aren’t ready to press it.
I brushed it off with a light chuckle. “Anyway… when exactly did y’all meet?” I asked, turning to Vanessa. “I know my dad be out and about, so it had to have been somewhere lit. I need the full story.”
Vanessa laughed, setting her fork down and wiping the corner of her mouth with a napkin. “We met a couple of weeks ago at a car show in Detroit. He was looking at this old-school Cutlass, and I was standing right next to it, texting my cousin. He said something slick about the car—”
“—I said it looked like it needed a real driver,” my dad cut in with a grin.
“And I told him he better hope I wasn’t the owner before he got embarrassed,” Vanessa finished, laughing. “He started grinning, I started grinning… next thing I know we’re walking around the whole damn lot talking about classic cars, favorite artists, family, food… it was a vibe.”
Woods leaned back in his seat, nodding. “Pops got game, huh?”
“You know it,” he said, shrugging proudly. “And she wasn’t like these other women out here trying to be all flashy. She was just her, and I appreciate that.”
For a while, the conversation moved to cars, the music that used to play in my dad’s Monte Carlo, and Vanessa calling him out for pretending he still knew all the lyrics to 90s R&B when he really didn’t. And then while we all smacked our lips and scraped our plates, my dad just had to bring up an embarrassing story.
“I remember the days Autumn used to burn everything in my kitchen when she was a teenager. Couldn’t even make toast without damn near setting off the smoke alarm.”
“Oh my God. Daddy!”
“Telling the truth!” he said, laughing. “Remember when you tried to fry chicken for the first time and forgot to season it?”
Woods raised his eyebrows. “Nah… not unseasoned chicken, baby.”
“She dumped the whole batch in the trash before I even made it to the table,” my dad said, shaking his head. “Had the nerve to cry talking about ‘I was trying to make you proud.’”
“Alright!” I waved a hand, blushing. “It was one time. Now look at me. I’ve evolved!”
“You definitely did, gorgeous,” Woods said low in my ear, his hand brushing my thigh again under the table. “Proud of you.”
Vanessa pointed her fork across the table. “Well, listen, this mac and cheese is everything. Who taught you that?”
I smirked as I scooped up a bite on my own plate. “Honestly? A mix of trial and error. And a whole lotta TikTok chefs.”
“No shame in that,” she said, nodding. “Whoever’s video you watched deserves a Michelin star. This is top-tier.”
My dad turned to Woods, squinting like he was about to ask something slick. “So, what do you bring to the table, young blood? You cook?”
“I grill,” Woods replied coolly. “Steaks, ribs, lamb, fish. You name it.”
My dad nodded slowly. “Alright now. Don’t just talk it. We’re gonna have to test that one day.”
“Say less,” Woods said, lifting his glass of tequila. “I stand on that.”
“You hear that, Ness?” my dad said, nudging her. “Might finally have a man I can stand next to on the grill without getting my ego bruised.”
“You better not let him out-grill you, Woods,” she teased.
Woods smiled, dimples flashing. “I’ll let him get his flowers. I’m not competitive unless I have to be.”
“Oh, he’s a smooth one,” Vanessa muttered with a laugh.
I gave him the side eye as I reached for my lemonade. “He’s trouble, is what he is. Smooth trouble.”
???
A f t e r t h e p l a t e s were cleared and Vanessa insisted on doing the bulk of the cleanup, the rest of us drifted into the living room. Woods was on the couch rolling a fresh blunt. I was curled up in the corner chair, legs tucked under me, sipping on sparkling water like it was something stronger.
“Alright now,” my dad said, holding up the board game he’d brought. “Y’all tryna get this Taboo game poppin’ or what?”
I smirked. “Don’t start talking big if you ain’t ready to lose.”
Woods leaned back with his blunt, watching the smoke curl up toward the ceiling, a lazy grin on his lips. My dad snorted. “You talk spicy for somebody who hasn’t played in a minute.”
“I play enough to be great,” I shot back, already digging through the cabinet where the games were stacked. “And I know for a fact you ain’t beating me in word games.”
Vanessa plopped down on the rug next to my dad, sipping on her drink. “Oh, I love Taboo! Y’all are about to get smoked.”
“Exactly. You talking to a wordsmith,” my dad said, fist-bumping her. “I keep dictionaries in my phone for fun.”
Woods snorted. “You probably do crossword puzzles. That don’t count.”
I laughed, grabbed the buzzer, and flipped open the box. “Alright, me and Woods versus you guys. Y’all ready to lose gracefully?”
My dad rolled up his sleeves like it was about to be a boxing match. “Let’s go.”
We got seated on the floor with the cards and buzzer in the middle. Woods sat close behind me, legs spread wide so I could sit between them. His arms draped across my thighs, all casual and cocky.
I went first, giving clues. “Okay, um… it’s something you eat with syrup—”
“Waffles!” Woods called out instantly.
“Yup. Next. Uh… you wear this on your neck—”
“Chain. Tie. Scarf.”
“Yes! Okay, it’s a movie with ghosts and a little boy—”
“Sixth Sense.”
“Damn right.” I slapped the card down and smirked at my dad. “Easy money.”
“Man, that ain’t about nothing,” my dad grumbled. When it was their turn, Vanessa kept slipping and saying the words you weren’t supposed to say, and my dad kept yelling out things like “bagel” when the answer was clearly “croissant.”
“Did you just say ‘French toast’ when she said ‘French pastry’?” I blinked.
“It made sense in the moment!” he argued, pointing at the card like it betrayed him.
“Nah, y’all a mess,” Woods said, chuckling deep and low. “I can’t tell if y’all drunk or just uncoordinated.”
“I’m tipsy and Axe clearly ain’t good at this game,” Vanessa said with a shrug, laughing. “Not a good combo.”
Round after round, Woods and I stayed locked in. I didn’t even need full clues. All it took was hand gestures, vague hints, a raised eyebrow, and he was guessing it like we had telepathy.
“You two cheating somehow,” my dad said, squinting at us like we had earpieces in. “Y’all using relationship cues and unfair advantages.”
I grinned. “We just got chemistry. Don’t be mad at it.”
Vanessa fake-pouted. “We need a rematch after Christmas. I want a do-over when my brain cells are sober.”
“We can run it back anytime,” Woods said, stretching his arms behind his head, smug as hell. “But I’ma warn you now… we gon’ win again.”
I leaned back against his chest, feeling warm and full and smug as hell, too. “Exactly.”
My dad shook his head, reaching for his cigar. “I’m ready to go. I done had enough beatdowns for one night.”
“Well, in that case,” I said, stretching with a yawn. “It’s the perfect time to give you your gifts before you hit the road.” I got up and went to the tree.
Woods stood up. “Vanessa, you need help packin’ up some food to go?”
“Thank you. We appreciate it,” she replied, and then they disappeared around the corner.
I handed my dad his gifts, and he waved off the attention with a tired smirk. “You didn’t have to get me nothing, baby girl.”
“Yeah, yeah. But I did, so open them.”
He pulled out the tissue paper with way more care than necessary, probably stalling on purpose like he wasn’t excited. First, he pulled out the bottle of aged whiskey. His eyebrows lifted just a little, and I caught the soft grunt he tried to swallow.
“Ayy, now this right here,” he said, flipping the bottle in his hand, “this is the good shit.”
“I know what I’m doing, old man,” I teased.
He chuckled. Then he reached deeper into the bag and pulled out the small stack of silk ties, all wrapped together in a custom brown box with gold trim. Deep navy, soft burgundy, a cold-ass charcoal gray. All designer. He opened the box and nodded slowly. “These are nice,” he muttered, feeling over the fabric. “Real nice. Thank you, baby girl.”
I smiled as he set everything back down, then got up and walked over to the coat rack. I watched as he retrieved a long, slender box from his pocket and passed back over to the living room. “I got something for you too,” he said, handing me the box wrapped in black wrapping paper with a red satin bow.
My heart jumped just a little when I saw it. I already knew it was jewelry. That’s how he did every year. I took it with both hands and stared at it for a second before setting it on the table. “You know I ain’t opening it ’til Christmas Day,” I said with a grin.
He shook his head. “Still doing that?”
“Every year. You’re not ruining my tradition.” He turned toward me, stepped over, and kissed my cheek. I hugged him, holding on a little longer than usual. “Love you, Daddy.”
“Love you more, baby girl. It’s us against it all.” As we pulled apart, my dad exhaled and looked at me. It wasn’t a glance either. It was that look. The one that sees every damn thing I try to hide. “You alright?” His voice was soft.
I nodded. “Yeah. I’m good.”
“Uh-huh,” he murmured, eyes narrowing just slightly. “That’s what you keep saying, but you ain’t touched a drink all night. Not wine. Not tequila. Not even a little sip.” I swallowed once as he kept looking at me. “Autumn… you love your tequila, especially on holidays. You get lit. So, tell me why you been holding out.”
My throat tightened, and my pulse jumped. He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t look angry. He was just concerned. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. And then my dad exhaled, knowingly, and shook his head with a soft, stunned chuckle.
“Lord…” His eyes softened. “You’re pregnant, ain’t you?” My lips trembled before I could stop them. I nodded, tears filling my eyes instantly. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he whispered, voice breaking just a little bit. “My baby… having a baby.”
My shoulders dropped as he pulled me in and wrapped his arms around me while I silently shook against him. “I was scared to tell you,” I whispered into his coat. “I didn’t want you to think I fucked up.”
“Fucked up?” he echoed, pulling back just enough to look at me. “Autumn… baby girl… you ain’t never been a fuck-up. Not one day in your damn life.”
My tears fell faster.
“You hear me?” he said, brushing one away with his thumb. “You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. The one thing I’m most proud of in this world. If God decided it was time for me to be a granddaddy, then I’m gonna step into that with joy.”
I looked up at him as he wiped my tears. He smiled that soft dad smile that always made everything alright and placed his hand over mine. “And listen,” he whispered, steady, reassuring. “You’re not doing this alone. I like that man. He’s rough around the edges, but you could do way worse. He looks at you like you hung the moon and stars.”
A shaky laugh cracked out of me.
My dad nodded. “Mmhmm. I peep the way that man been watching you all night like he’d flip this whole damn world upside down for you.”
“Yeah?” I sniffled.
“Truth. You’re gonna be a good mama, Autumn,” he said, voice thick. “Everything you didn’t get from yours… you’re gonna give. I been waiting to see that day. Now it’s here, and you got my full support, baby girl. Always.”
I leaned into him again, hugging him harder than I had in years. After a long moment, he pulled back and rested his forehead against mine, laughing quietly to keep himself from getting too emotional.
“Well, damn,” he muttered, shaking his head with watery eyes. “This is the best Christmas gift I've ever gotten.” That made me laugh through my tears. He hugged me one more time, then stepped back and tapped my shoulder. “Now wipe your face before Woods comes back in here looking ready to fight,” he teased.
I snorted. He went to grab his coat, slid it on fully this time, and walked toward the living room. Before I could say anything, Woods and Vanessa stepped out of the kitchen. He was holding two neatly packed to-go containers in one hand, and she carried foil-wrapped plates in the other.
“Y’all got a lil’ bit of everything,” Woods said casually, lifting the containers a little.
My dad chuckled as he reached for the food. “Good lookin’ out, son.” He dapped Woods up firmly, their grips tight, like men who respected each other. “Take care of my baby girl.”
Woods nodded once, serious and direct. “Always,” he said. No hesitation, no extra fluff. And for a moment, they just stared at each other in a way that said they both understood what wasn’t being said.
I blinked away the sting behind my eyes as I turned to Vanessa, who was shrugging into her coat. “It was really nice meeting you,” I said sincerely, pulling her into a brief hug. “Thank you for coming.”
She smiled warmly. “Likewise. And thanks for being so sweet. He talks about you all the time, by the way.” She winked, nodding toward my dad.
I laughed lightly. “That’s my guy.”
We all walked out onto the porch. I stood next to Woods, my arm wrapped around his waist, as we watched my dad help Vanessa into the passenger seat. Once he got in on the driver’s side and the engine turned over, the car rolled down the snowy street slowly. His signature beep followed.
“He knows,” I said quietly, still staring after the taillights.
Woods looked down at me, brushing his lips against the top of my head. “I figured that by the look he gave me on the way out.”
“You think it was a happy look?”
Woods smirked. “You tell me.”
I turned to face him, nodding. “Yeah… he was happy. Supportive. Didn’t even flinch.”
“Then that’s all that matters,” he said, leaning down and kissing my forehead. “You feel better now?”
“Yeah. I do.” We stood there a few more seconds in silence, letting the cold air nip at our cheeks before I yawned.
Woods tilted his head. “Nah,” he said low, that familiar growl sliding into his voice. “You don’t get to fall asleep just yet.”
I squinted up at him, amused. “Why not?”
He leaned in close, his breath warm against my ear. “‘Cause I still need to get you outta this damn dress and dick you down properly. Then… you can sleep.”
I let out a soft laugh, covering my face as I shook my head. “You’re such a freak.”
“Mhm,” he murmured, lifting me into his arms. “But you love it.”
And I did.