Honey’s Special Roux

Chapter 1

The smell of pound cake permeated the air as boisterous laughs tickled my ears. It wasn’t unusual for the Hix family to congregate in our home. In fact, most Sundays, we’d gather around the kitchen island after church service to enjoy some of the best home-cooked food ever. My love for cooking came from the frequent gatherings with the aunties, Mama, and Granny Janie. As I watched these women come together to gossip and create a meal to hug my soul, I couldn’t help but want to create something like this when I grew up. There was hope for my sister Chamille and me to create moments like this when we got to their age—God willing.

“Honey, butter the cornbread for me, baby. Make sure you get it all around the edges, too.” With her favorite purple oven mitten, Granny Janie pulled out the cast-iron skillet containing the golden-brown cornbread from the oven. Aunt Judith came behind her to shut the oven door.

“Yes, ma’am.” I pushed away from the island with my palms and walked over to the sink to wash my hands. I didn’t want to be the focus of the group for not practicing cleanliness, so I turned on the faucet and scrubbed my hands as I continued to listen in on the latest news.

“Did y’all see First Lady Lisa’s hat today?” Mama asked with a humorous glint in her eye.

“Chile, she looked a damn?—”

“Aht. God doesn’t like ugly. Don’t y’all get to talkin’ about that lady’s church attire.” Granny Janie eyed both women. I stifled my laughter as I shifted over to the hot skillet on the counter.

“The food smells so good,” I commented as I grabbed the stick of Land O’ Lakes.

“Mm-hmm.” Granny Janie replied before she bumped her hip against mine.

When Granny first taught me her cornbread recipe, she revealed she used two boxes of Jiffy cornbread and tweaked the recipe on the box to fit her liking. She added sugar, butter, and a generous amount of honey into the mixture before she baked it in the oven. No one could tell, or they could and never mentioned it, because it was always mouthwateringly delicious.

As I buttered the cornbread, I allowed my ears to tune into the conversation with the women in the family. Aunt Josephine sat with her arms crossed at the dinner table, while Mama and Aunt Judith stood near the island and put the finishing touches on the desserts. Granny manned the stove, making sure all the pots were off and the food was ready to serve.

All of Granny’s children were almost identical to the matriarch of the family. They all shared her golden-brown skin, soft, curly hair, and wide hips. It was like she’d put her picture in a 3D printer that almost printed exact copies, but there was an issue with the printer adding or removing a feature.

“It’s so sad to hear what happened to Dedra’s nephew,” Mama stated as she layered bananas, pudding, and cookies into a bowl to make banana pudding.

“Girl, I heard the young man was in a lot of trouble. Heard he was into drugs… or something.” Aunt Judith chimed in.

“Hush up with all that gossip, chile!” Granny exclaimed as she zeroed her eyes on all three of her daughters.

“Mama, you can’t expect us not to comment on the situation when the pastor brought them up today at service. He wanted us to welcome them into the community, and that’s what we’re doing. However, we gon’ talk about it while we do so.” Mama was the middle child, with Aunt Judith being the oldest, and Aunt Josephine being the youngest. Middle children often played the fence on discussions, but Mama was as vocal as her mom.

“Granny, I finished buttering the cornbread. Anything else you need me to do?” I asked to take the attention off Mama.

Granny remained quiet for a moment before she turned to me with the biggest smile. “You can tell the men and children to get ready for dinner. Then come on back and help me pack the Tupperware for the Kents.”

With a new assignment, I walked out of the kitchen and headed into the living room to get the men, who were all seated on the edge of their seats, watching a football game. Daddy was a Cowboys fan in the land of Texans and Saints fans, so he was the odd man out in the group of men.

“Hey, y’all! Sunday dinner is ready. Wash up. By the time y’all unglue your eyes from the game, your wives will have your plates made,” I announced.

Daddy looked at me with a grin on his chocolate face. “Thanks, Sweet Tea.”

“Is Aunt Halimah outside with the kids?” I asked.

He nodded. “Yeah, she’s out there.”

The hallway led me outside to the back porch. “Hey! The food is ready! Y’all need to wash your little dirty hands and find yo’ parents.”

Chamille snickered as she hopped off the tree branch and made her way over to me. “It’s about time.”

“Girl, you stink.”

Chamille lifted her arms and smelled her armpits. She scrunched her nose. “Dang. I must’ve forgotten to put on deodorant.”

“Yikes!” I hollered.

“I better go wash really fast. If you make my plate, I’ll give you a dollar.”

“Girl, boo! Go clean your pits. It shouldn’t take too long. Mama might make your plate for you, anyway.”

She nodded and scurried into the house with her arms firmly by her side. Chamille was my younger sister. She was twelve going on thirteen and was the true definition of a tomboy. She climbed trees, played with bugs, and rode her bike with the other boys on the block. She was pretty, with long hair that she hated to let free. She kept her hair in two cornrows that rest just above the training bra she’d started wearing a few months ago.

“Come on, y’all. We can continue playing after we’ve filled our tummies with Granny Jay’s delicious cooking!” Aunt Halimah, or Hal for short, ushered the smaller kids into the house. Our home was large, so we always had a house full on the weekends.

“What did you help cook today?” Aunt Hal asked when she’d made it over to me on the porch.

“I helped with the cornbread. I also peeled the eggs and mixed the ingredients for the deviled eggs.”

“You know what I was doing at fifteen?” she asked with a light chuckle.

“What were you out here doing in these streets, Aunt Hal?”

“Chasing booty.” The seriousness in her face had me doubling over with laughter.

“You were doing what ?” I asked for clarification between giggles.

“You heard me, Honey. I was a menace in high school. I’d just come out to my mama and daddy, and my little teenage stud phase had the streets going crazy.”

I shook my head. “You are a mess, Auntie.”

“I’ve come to terms with who I am, though. The stud life ain’t for me like I thought it was.”

Aunt Halimah was my daddy’s Irish twin sister. They were exactly a year apart, born on the same day. She was his splitting image, sharing his deep, chocolate brown skin, round eyes, and toned stature.

Chamille and Aunt Halimah were close. I figured my sister was interested in girls, but I wouldn’t force her to come out until she was ready—if that was what it was. Some women genuinely were more masculine without being queer, and that was cool too.

When I returned to the kitchen, everyone was in line with plates. It was a calm chaos in the way everyone chatted while plates moved around the room. I’d joined Granny in the dining room where she had the Tupperware open.

“Grab the square container for me, Honey. Then I want you to grab the small circular cups so you can put a couple of servings of puddin’ in there for me.”

I nodded and did as she instructed. It took us about ten minutes to get all the food packaged and put in a brown paper bag with the handles on it. I carried it with a secure hand on the bottom as Granny led us to the neighbors’ house next door.

She knocked and we waited.

“Hey, Dedra.” Granny Janie greeted the woman who peeked through the cracked door.

“Hey, Miss Janie. What brings you by?” Dedra asked as she opened the door wider and stepped out onto the porch.

“I know what it’s like to step in with raising someone else’s kids. I wanted to take some of the stress of Sunday dinner off your shoulders and bring you by some food. We’ve got a bit of everything in here,” Granny explained.

“Thank you so much, Janie. You know I’m exhausted from the back and forth to get Marquise all settled in. Dayari! Can you come get this bag for me, baby?” She called out to her daughter.

Dayari and I went to school together. We had a few elective classes in common. We were in speech and culinary together this school year. She was a grade ahead of me, though. We weren’t best friends, but we spoke and hung out every now and then.

A few moments later, Dayari walked outside. I held the bag out for her to take.

“Hey, Honey,” she sang.

“Hey, girl! How are you?” I asked.

“Tired. I had to help move my cousin’s stuff into the guest room.”

“Aw man. They had you doing heavy lifting? I would have pretended to throw my back out or something,” I joked.

We shared a cool laugh.

“The food smells so good. I can’t wait to make me a plate. Thank you, Miss Janie.” Dayari spoke to my grandmother.

“You’re welcome.”

Dayari took the bag into the house. Dedra folded her arms over her chest and released a deep sigh. “I don’t know how we’re going to deal with that boy, Janie. He’s always in trouble. It’s understandable from his circumstances, but this is going to be a tough job for me to take on. He’s almost seventeen. He’s been in the streets his whole life with a mother too strung out on drugs to take care of him. His father ain’t no better. It’s crazy to know Chance’s brother could be responsible for her death. It’s just so much grief and pain in this house. I feel suffocated already.”

My heart ached at the details Dedra shared about her nephew. He’d gone through so much pain, and child protective services forced him to leave his home. He’d have to adjust to a new environment while also battling the grief of losing a parent.

Granny opened her arms wide, and Dedra didn’t hesitate to take the hug. For a long moment, Granny held the woman in her arms and allowed her to cry softly. I stood awkwardly to the side, wishing I would have walked away once Dayari had disappeared into the house.

“You do not have to do this alone, baby. We’re right next door. If you need anything, all you’ve got to do is knock on that there door, and I’ll do my best to assist you. It takes a village to raise a child, and I’m your village.”

Granny Janie was everyone’s support system. Since Pawpaw died, she’d made it her duty to extend all her love to everyone she could. Her presence in the community was damn near legendary. It was beautiful to see so many people gravitate toward her and love her and all she did.

The garage lifted, and a tall, tattooed figure emerged. He had a stack of empty boxes in his hands. He wore a pair of black boxers and gray Nike shorts. I could read the brand on the waistband of his boxers because his shorts hung dangerously low around his hips.

Damn!

He was fine as hell. He had a smooth face and a low-cut fade. He had freckles on the bridge of his nose and around his eyes. He had pierced ears and a chest tattoo. Red flags waved in my head, but I didn’t care to listen. He looked dangerous, which only piqued my interest even more.

“You’re staring, Honey.”

“I… um… Sorry…” I pulled my gaze away, reluctantly.

Granny raised an eyebrow at me but didn’t push further. We walked in stride back to the house. Before I opened the door, Granny grabbed my arm to stop me. I looked up at her concerned features. She furrowed her brows downward as she softened her gaze when our eyes locked.

“That boy is trouble, Honey. Please don’t get caught up in his looks. Protect yourself from that can of worms, okay?”

“But Granny, I didn’t even?—”

“Promise me you won’t let that boy ruin your life.”

I gulped. “Y-yes, ma’am. I promise.”