Chapter 11
“N o w y o u k n o w damn well you was supposed to be here two hours ago, Quamaine. I done texted you, called you, and left a voicemail.” Aunt Sherry’s lips curled as she snapped her seatbelt, glaring my way before I could even reach for the gearshift.
“You see me here now though,” I said, calm, adjusting the heat. “Ain't I driving you to Big Mama’s right now? Or that a figment of your imagination?”
She waved me off as if I was the problem. “Mmm. You one of them slick mouth nephews. You lucky you handsome, ‘cause your time management ain’t worth a damn. You know my aggy ol’ kids all tied up and can’t take me over there! I needed you.”
I laughed, pulling out slowly. “Blame your sister. She got me runnin’ around half the damn city.”
“Runnin’ around high, I bet. Your eyes real low. You think we don’t know what you be doin' out there on the West Coast!” I just smirked. Aunt Sherry shifted in her seat, chin up like she was making an announcement. “You pick up the ice?”
“Everything on the list,” I nodded. “Even got her them fancy ass candles she didn’t ask for ‘til the last minute.”
“She gon’ be happy,” she smiled, nodding. “So, find somethin’ else to fuss about anyway.”
“That’s tradition.”
“Mmm. You ain’t never lied.”
The drive to Big Mama’s was smooth. Entering my old neighborhood, I saw folks carrying foil-covered pans and folding tables out on porches. Thanksgiving was loud in Tavern city—loud like my thoughts. Why did Autumn keep popping up?
And, like Aunt Sherry was reading my mind, she dug in her purse for a handful of cashews, tossed a few in her mouth, then asked, “You ever think about settlin' down, nephew?”
I blinked. “Damn. Where the hell that come from?”
She gazed out the window. “I was just sittin’ here thinkin’. You a good looking man, got your own money and your own lane. No women, no babies.”
“…That’s a bad thing?”
“Yeah,” she said. “You in your mid to late thirties. Time’s a tickin’.”
I chuckled. “Maybe I just ain’t found the right energy yet.”
“Well, you better find it before you too old to stroke somethin’ without pullin’ a muscle.”
I damn near swerved. “Auntie! Goddamn!”
“Don’t ‘Auntie’ me. The game don’t wait on nobody.”
I shook my head, laughing. “I hear you.”
As we turned down Big Mama’s block from the main road, the vibe hit different immediately. Cars lined both sides, kids rode bikes, and music was already bumping from somebody’s trunk. I pulled into the driveway, cut the engine, and took a deep breath.
Aunt Sherry flashed a wide grin as she climbed out, adjusting her sleeves. "Don’t get too comfortable. We gon’ need your tall ass to help hang the decorations."
As I was about to get out, my phone buzzed in my lap. I answered without checking. “Yo.”
“You pull up to Big Mama’s yet?” Ty spoke into the phone.
“Just parked.”
“I’m four minutes out,” he said, engine humming loudly in the background. “Had to make one more stop to pick up my lil’ baby right here.”
I smirked. “Shorty from last night?”
“Nahhh,” he said, dragging the word out like he was setting up a whole lie. “Just know I got a lil’ baddie ridin’ wit’ me. You gon’ see.”
I laughed low. “How long this one been around?”
“Long enough for her to catch a plate. That count, don’t it?”
“That’s your business.”
Ty cracked up. “Aye, don’t be actin’ brand new. You the only one allowed random situations now?”
I leaned back against the headrest, smiling to myself. I ended the call, slid the phone in my pocket, and finally reached for the handle, fingers gripping the cool metal.
“Quamaine Isaiah Thevlin, don’t have me yellin’ out this window like you can’t hear!
” I turned toward the house. Ma was posted up in the kitchen window, head wrapped, gold bangles clinking as she leaned out with a wooden spoon in her hand like a mic.
“Get them bags out the trunk and bring in that ice!”
I raised both hands in mock surrender, laughing. “Aight, Ma! Damn.”
She vanished from the window without a word. I shook my head, chuckling, then popped the trunk, grabbed the grocery bags and the ice, and made my way toward the house.