21
One Year Later
Big Mama ’ s h o u s e smelled like fried chicken and burnt hair grease. I posted up in the hallway for a second, just taking it all in. Loud ass voices, somebody laughing too hard in the kitchen, Taj’s twins running around. Drinks. Music. Whole fam deep as fuck in the living room surrounding the Christmas tree.
“Yo, where them damn stockings go?” Uncle Murder’s deep voice bellowed from the kitchen. “Ain’t no way I came all the way over here, and y’all got me sittin’ under this cheap ass dollar store décor talkin’ ‘bout some Merry Christmas.”
“Ain’t nobody ask you to come, Murder!” Aunt Sherry yelled back. “Take that cigarette outside!
“Sherry, don’t start with me today,” he grumbled. “I came here for the baby and the food. Not all that.”
“And we ain’t give you a gift either,” Ty added from the recliner with a shorty on his lap.
“You too old for stockings anyway.” Taj chimed in.
Everybody hollered.
Autumn laughed from beside me, adjusting the strap on the black diaper bag she had swung across her shoulder. She was glowing. Not just regular fine, but that mama glow. Her skin was smooth, eyes bright, still a little tired but beautiful in a way only I ever got to see up close.
Her edges were laid, sweater dress hugging her waist and stretching across that fatter-than-fat ass like it was painted on. She had a little extra weight on her now, her face slightly rounder, thighs thicker, and I loved every inch of it. She kept talking about how she hadn’t “snapped back” yet, but to me… she never needed to.
Our baby girl was in her arms, knocked out in a fuzzy red onesie with “My First Christmas” written across the chest. One of them big ass headband bows around her head full of curls. December Love was her name. Five months old and already the boss of my life.
“She sleep?” I asked, brushing Autumn’s hair back as we stood in the doorway.
“Mmmhmm,” she whispered. “Drank a bottle and passed out on me like her daddy.”
“Don’t start,” I smirked.
“Don’t make me.” She smirked right back.
I kissed her forehead and took the baby from her arms, careful not to wake her. Her little pink lips were parted just slightly, soft lashes resting against chubby cheeks. She had Autumn’s lips and my eyes. Autumn’s complexion and my wide nose. A little bit of both of us, just like she should be.
Then, the front door opened, and Axel and Vanessa stepped in, all cozy in long coats and holding hands. Vanessa had a casserole dish wrapped in foil. Axel had a cigar behind his ear.
“Merry Christmas, family,” he said, nodding to everybody.
“Heyyy now, what y’all bring?” Uncle Tone asked, already eyeing the foil.
“Green bean casserole,” Vanessa said with a soft smile.
A beat of silence hit the room before Taj mumbled under her breath, “See, this is why I told y’all we need a food sign-up sheet next year.”
I damn near choked trying not to laugh. Vanessa heard her but smiled anyway. Autumn gave Taj a sharp look, then leaned over to hug her dad and congratulate him and Vanessa again on their engagement.
This past year had been all about figuring shit out. Blending two lives. Two cities. Two families. From constant flights back and forth to late-night FaceTime arguments over the smallest shit. From family events where my folks had to chill, and hers had to loosen up. Somehow, some way, we found a rhythm that worked for us.
When Autumn first told me she was pregnant, we agreed we’d keep doing the long-distance shit for a while. I was flying out to Arbor Hills every couple of weeks. I would stay for a few days, have date nights, spoil her, rub her feet, and talk to her belly. Then, I’d head back to Cali to handle business.
It wasn’t the smoothest setup, but it was solid. We understood each other. She wasn’t going to leave her city, and I wasn’t about to abandon the empire I built from the ground up on the West Coast. My name, my product, and my money was rooted in California.
We bumped heads about it. Real arguments. Heated ones. She’d be tired and hormonal. I’d be stretched thin, trying to juggle a hundred different things. But we had a rule: don’t say no shit we can’t come back from. No matter how mad we got, we stayed on the same side.
The salon she worked at was booming, and her clients wouldn’t let her go if they could help it. She had that city on lock, and I never tried to take that from her. She was hustling. Still grinding. Still her own boss. I never wanted her to feel like she had to give that up just to be mine. I was standing beside her, not over her. Everything was moving how it needed to until our baby girl decided she was ready early.
Autumn was thirty-three weeks when she called me late one night, saying she was cramping and didn’t feel right. I was out in Compton handling business. Her doctor said it could be early labor, so I shut everything down, got on the jet, and flew straight to her without thinking twice.
Two days later, our daughter came into this world so tiny, but strong as hell. She was barely four pounds, and her little cry damn near cracked my chest open. She had to go straight to the NICU, and that humbled me. Seeing her in that incubator with all those wires, the monitors beeping, the nurses moving around her like clockwork.
They told us she needed help keeping her temperature stable. She had to do those little “practice breaths” because her lungs weren’t all the way ready yet. They fed her through a tiny tube at first and kept track of every ounce she gained.
I had to scrub my hands damn near raw every time I walked in, but I didn’t complain once. I sat in that chair for hours, watching her chest rise and fall, praying over her. I held her on my bare chest when the nurses let me, and she would curl up like she belonged nowhere else.
Autumn pretended to be strong, but I could see that shit wearing on her. So I stayed. Every day. Every night. Three and a half weeks straight of NICU life. I learned what every beep meant. I learned how to change a diaper through those little incubator holes. I learned how to read her cues when she got overstimulated.
And when she finally pulled that feeding tube out on her own, Autumn cried in my arms in front of everybody. When the doctor finally cleared her to come home, it felt like we were bringing home the toughest little fighter in the whole world. And after that, I knew for a fact Autumn was stuck with me for life.
I stayed in Arbor Hills for another month after that doing my daddy thing. I learned how to be there for Autumn when the tears came out of nowhere, and she couldn’t even explain them. I made sure she ate. I reminded her how fine she still was, even when she was feeling off in her own skin. I showed up for my family.
Even when I had to get back to the West Coast, I stayed tapped in. FaceTime was my lifeline. If I couldn’t be there in person, I was there through the phone. Mornings. Late nights. Feedings. Doctor’s appointments. I wasn’t missing shit I didn’t absolutely have to.
I let her know she wasn’t in this alone. It wasn’t easy, but we made it work with love, patience, and real-ass conversations in between the chaos. That’s how we got here. Christmas Day at Big Mama’s house. Back where all this shit started.
I walked over to the couch and sat with December resting against my chest, still knocked out. My mom came over next, brushing a kiss across my cheek before cooing down at her granddaughter.
“My grandbaby gettin’ so chunky,” Ma smiled. “Look at them cheeks. That’s all you, baby.”
“Nah,” I grinned. “That’s Autumn. She came out lookin’ like her mama and actin’ like her daddy.”
“She gon’ be somethin’ else,” she said, shaking her head with love. “Y’all better get ready.”
“We stay ready,” Autumn chimed in, settling beside me on the couch and handing me a bottle of water.
I looked over at her, my forever, and nodded. “Ready for anything.”
Big Mama came out of the kitchen with a tray of honey ham. “Let’s eat before the christening,” she called. “Y’all know how long that preacher likes to talk.” The whole house moved at once, with everybody getting ready to grub.
“Babe,” Autumn leaned into me, whispering low.
“Yeah?” I turned my head toward her, still rocking December in my arms, one arm wrapped behind Autumn’s back.
She bit her lip for a second, eyes scanning the room—watching my mama laugh with Axel, Vanessa helping in the kitchen, Big Mama cackling with Uncle Murder and Aunt Sherry. “I’ve been thinking,” she said finally, voice just loud enough for me to catch over the hum of the room. “About the back and forth. How tired I’ve been… how much easier things could be if we weren’t always saying goodbye every other week.”
My chest tightened a little, but I stayed quiet, letting her talk.
“I think I’m ready,” she said. “To move to Cali.”
I blinked. “Word?”
“It won’t happen tomorrow, or next week, but I’m ready to start making plans, babe. It’s been a year. And yeah, it’s hard to leave what I built… but I’m building something new now. With you and her.” She nodded down at December.
“You dead serious?” I asked again, looking her in her eyes, needing to know this wasn’t just a holiday high talking.
Autumn tilted her head, eyes soft but locked in. “Quamaine, I’m all in. I don’t wanna do this part-time anymore. I’m ready.”
I exhaled slowly, kissed the side of her forehead, and smiled against her skin. “Say less, baby. We gon’ make it happen.” Her fingers slid between mine as she leaned into my side, and just like that… everything felt even more solid than it already did.
As we moved towards the kitchen, it smelled like good ol’ soul food. We all ended up around Big Mama’s table like tradition told us to. The clank of silverware and plates just added to the soundtrack.
Plates loaded up with fried turkey, baked mac and cheese, greens, yams, fried chicken, pot roast, mashed potatoes, stuffing, and hot water cornbread. Nobody touched Vanessa’s green bean casserole. I made a mental note to kick it with Axel about her bringing random ass dishes to events.
Across the table, Big Mama was in full storytelling mode, going on about how I used to be the “bad lil’ boy with the peanut head” who ran up and down the block with a busted BB gun. Everybody laughed except me.
“Aye, why we bringin’ up old shit?” I muttered, scooping more yams onto my fork.
Taj smacked her lips. “Now, Vanessa, sis, that ring is everything. It’s giving bridezilla for real!”
Vanessa grinned. “Why, thank you, boo.”
“Don’t gas her up too much,” Axel added with a chuckle. “She already thinks she runs the new house.”
“And do,” Vanessa replied, raising her glass with zero hesitation.
Laughter broke out around the table again.
???
B y t h e t i m e we pulled up to the church for December’s christening, everybody was half full from dinner and tipsy from the spiked cider Big Mama “didn’t mean to” drink two cups of. Axel pulled out a leather-bound Bible like he was about to help the pastor run the service, and Aunt Sherry was already dramatic as fuck and crying.
I held the car seat with December bundled in ivory and lace. “You ready for this?” Autumn asked, fixing my collar and brushing lint off my shoulder.
“Yeah, let’s do it,” I said, voice lower than usual.
She smiled and kissed my cheek, then reached back to grab the diaper bag. I heard Taj already cussing out one of her twins on the church steps for dropping a Capri Sun on his outfit.
“I told you not to bring juice! Now look at you! Sticky and tacky!”
Uncle Tone was trying to light a Black & Mild in front of the church until Axel snatched it and gave him that nigga don’t embarrass me look. And my mama kept trying to take selfies on Snapchat, but the filter wasn’t working.
“Can y’all get it the f…? Damn. Come on,” I snapped, rubbing the bridge of my nose.
The choir hummed softly. Pastor Gaines stood at the pulpit, motioning us forward. When we reached the front, Pastor held out his arms, and Autumn carefully passed December to him. The moment he raised her gently and spoke her name, I felt something thick lodge in my throat.
“December Love Thevlin,” Pastor said, voice steady. “We bless you, cover you, and present you to the Lord.” He anointed her forehead with oil. “She is a gift of love… a reminder of healing… and the beginning of a new legacy.”
Autumn’s hand slid into mine. My woman by my side. All this love around me had a nigga a little emotional and shit. I tilted my head back and closed my eyes.
“Yo,” Uncle Murder said way too loud from the third pew, “Is Woods cryin’? Aye, look at him!”
“I knew that boy had a soft spot,” Aunt Sherry added.
“I ain’t cryin’,” I said, voice low and gritty, trying to sniff all subtle and shit.
Autumn squeezed my hand tighter, laughing softly. “Thug tears,” she whispered.
I just nodded, eyes still on my daughter as the congregation clapped, the oil was wiped gently from her forehead, and Pastor Gaines handed her back into Autumn’s arms.
“She’s beautiful,” he said. “Just like her parents.”
“Thank you,” Autumn said quietly.
I cleared my throat and gave a short nod. “‘Ppreciate you, Pastor.”
We walked back down the aisle, this time our daughter sleeping like she already knew she was covered, safe, and protected. And as we walked past the pews filled with family, I knew one thing for sure. Autumn was the one. She said she wasn’t in no rush to get married or to be somebody’s wife just yet, and I respected it. Same way she told me one baby at a time.
But I ain’t can’t lie… every time I watched her feed our daughter or caught her sleeping with her arm flung across both of us, I thought about giving her another one. I thought about taking her last name and putting mine in front of it permanently. She didn’t need a rush, but damn sure I wasn’t lettin’ up, either. I had plans. I was locked in forever.
We all gathered up front near the altar after the christening, trying to get everybody in place for one good picture. Big Mama was sitting proudly in the center, Vanessa was fixing Autumn’s hair even though it didn’t need fixing, and Ty was telling the twins to stop sliding across the marble floor like it was a damn skating rink.
“Everybody smile real quick,” I called out, holding my phone up in selfie mode with my arm stretched long enough to get everybody in. “On three…”
Just as I got to “one,” I heard Taj holler, “I know you ain’t just step on my good shoes, Tyshawn!” The yell echoed through the church like gunshots, and the whole right side of my family erupted.
“Yo dumbass shouldn’t’a wore suede anyway!”
December started crying loud as hell just as I hit the button. The flash went off, catching the exact moment of madness. Me, holding the phone, head thrown back laughing. Autumn, side-eyeing me like, this is your damn family while rocking our crying baby on her shoulder. Axel just over it all, head in his hands. It was chaotic bullshit. It was loud. And I wouldn’t trade this shit for nothing. A December to remember, for real.