Chapter 14
Zaire wasn’t built for sleeping in, not when his mind was knotted with too many thoughts and not enough air.
He’d woken up before the house started creaking, walked across the lawn and to the main house.
He hated how they never had the doors locked shit like that would never fly where he was from.
Not Crescent or the luxury estate he had in Madison Heights.
He eased open Meadow’s door just enough to reach her nightstand.
Her alarm was two minutes from going off—he saw the glow of it—and he didn’t think twice before tapping it off and walking back out, closing the door quietly behind him.
It wasn’t meant to be some romantic gesture.
He just didn’t want her dragged out of whatever sleep she managed to catch.
She carried too much on her back for him to let the morning punch her in the face like that.
Downstairs, the kitchen was quieter than usual. Rena stood at the counter, hair wrapped neatly, makeup done like she’d been awake for hours waiting on an audience.
She perked up when Zaire walked in, smiling wider than necessary. “Morning,” she hummed, leaning against the counter that was full of grocery bags she was supposed to be unpacking.
“Morning,” Zaire responded, grabbing a pan like he lived there, moving around the kitchen with ease he had no business having. He cracked eggs into a bowl, whisked them quickly, and turned the stove on.
He wanted to make breakfast for the house and give Meadow a little bit of a break today. She deserved that.
Rena watched him, smiling into her shoulder. “Didn’t know you could cook.”
“I can do a lil’ somethin’,” he disclosed, not looking over.
Rena shifted closer, hip grazing the counter, her eyes dragging over him like she wanted to try something. “You from Cali, right? Y’all all be in the kitchen? Or that just you?”
Zaire shrugged, still whisking. “Everybody gotta eat.”
“Mmm,” she replied, eyes drifting slow over his arms, his back, his shoulders. “Well… it looks good on you.”
He didn’t return the compliment or correct her.
Zaire just kept flipping slices of bread, butter hissing in the pan.
Zaire didn’t flirt, but he didn’t shut her down either.
It wasn’t intentional. He was just distracted—mind replaying Meadow in the doorway last night, her dress, her breath mixing with his, the taste of her still warm on his mouth.
He went to the fridge to grab the bacon. He was cooking all out of order but he didn’t care. Zaire was a do what I want type of man.
“What you looking for?” Rena asked, sipping on her cup of store bought coffee.
“Bacon.”
Reaching inside one of the bags, she pulled the pack out. “Here.”
“Thank you,” he smiled, finally looking at her.
Butterflies attacked her. He was so smooth and too fine. She loved the way he looked and after looking him up, she loved his bank account too. Rena was always looking for love. Getting a man had never been an issue for her, it was just finding the right one that seemed to be the problem.
“How you liking it here?” She probed.
Zaire sliced the pack open then. “The range is cool… ain’t seen much of the town though.”
“Intentionally?”
He shrugged. “Just tryin’ get my head right, you know?”
“I do but you can’t hit balls all the time like that’s some magical fix.”
“Look at you,” he smirked, grinning at her.
Rena pursed her lips. “I know a little about a lot.”
“It’ll come in handy one day, I’m sure.” He pulled another pan from the cabinet and heated it on the stove for the bacon. He jumped back when it started popping. “Damn,” he grunted.
Once he finished with the bacon, he poured the eggs in the pan.
The eggs started smoking before he realized it.
Rena laughed softly. “You burning them.”
“I see,” he muttered, annoyed at himself, grabbing a spatula too late. “Fuck.”
She stepped closer, reaching around him, brushing his elbow. “Let me help—”
Meadow raised a brow. “Oh wow. So this is what y’all do when I’m asleep? Try to burn the house down?”
Rena turned, hand on her hip. “Morning, Meadow. I tried to help him, but he swore he had it.”
Zaire didn’t look back. “I did have it. Pan just hot.”
“The pan?” Meadow asked, stepping over to the stove with a smirk. “Or the fact you don’t know what the hell you’re doing?”
He finally glanced at her, jaw tightening just enough to show he was already irritated — not because of her comment, but because she looked too good first thing in the morning.
Bonnet crooked, sleepy-eyed, oversized shirt hanging loose…
she didn’t even try and still knocked something loose in his chest.
“You welcome,” he muttered.
“For what?” Meadow asked, reaching past him to turn the burner down. “For giving me salmonella?”
“Nah.” He leaned against the counter. “For letting you sleep.”
Meadow paused. “Letting me?”
Zaire nodded once. “Alarm was ’bout to go off. I turned it off.”
Rena’s eyebrows shot up because she knew that was bold as hell.
Meadow blinked slowly, processing. “You… turned my alarm off?”
“You was knocked out,” he said it like it was nothing. “No point in waking you up.”
She stared at him, her irritation shifting from amused to pointed. “Zaire, I wake up at the same time every morning for a reason. Magnolia’s meds. Breakfast. Checking on Ray. The whole house moves on a schedule.”
“You needed the rest.”
“You don’t get to decide that.”
Before he could respond, a loud thump shook the back hallway.
Then Magnolia screamed —a deep and terrified cry that ripped through the house like a summer storm. “Get out! Get out my room! You not supposed to be here!”
Meadow’s heart broke in half before she even reached the doorway. She sprinted down the hall, Rena and Zaire on her heels, Ray stumbling behind them with panic written all over his face.
Magnolia stood at the foot of her bed, body trembling, eyes wild. Pillows were scattered everywhere, blankets on the floor, her hands still clenched like she’d been fighting shadows.
“Mama,” Meadow whispered, immediately going to her. “It’s me. It’s Meadow.”
Magnolia backed up, not recognizing her daughter at all. “Don’t touch me. Don’t— I don’t know you.”
Ray froze near the dresser, shoulders falling, grief twisting his face into something small. “Baby… it’s me. It’s your Ray. I’m right here.”
Magnolia didn’t see him. Didn’t hear him. She curled into herself like the room was unfamiliar and everyone in it meant harm.
Rena stepped forward, breath quick. “She must’ve woken up confused. Maybe she—”
“Were you not in here?” Meadow asked sharply, still keeping her voice soft toward her mother but not sparing Rena from the edge in her tone.
“I stepped out for two minutes,” Rena snapped. “I wasn’t expecting her to—”
“You were in the kitchen flirting,” Meadow cut in. “That’s what you were doing.”
Rena recoiled. “You not finna talk to me like I don’t do my job.”
“That is exactly how I’m finna talk to you,” Meadow fired back, voice still low because Magnolia was trembling, “because while you were smiling in someone’s face, my mama had a full episode alone.”
Rena folded her arms. “You blaming me for five seconds of confusion?”
“I’m blaming you for not paying attention.” Meadow frowned. “That’s literally the thing you’re here to do.”
Zaire stepped in. “Meadow, chill.”
She turned on him next. “Don’t say a muthafuckin’ thing to me.”
“Rena ain’t the whole problem.” He leered. “You don’t gotta do all that.”
Meadow’s breath shook. Not because of him. Because of everything. Because Magnolia was staring through her like she was glass. Because Ray looked like he was holding himself together with one frayed thread. Because she had slept too long. Because she had no room for grace this morning.
“You turned off my alarm,” Meadow reminded him, staring right at him. “That’s the only reason I wasn’t here.”
Zaire’s chest rose. “Aye, I was tryna help.”
“Next time, don’t.”
Zaire didn’t argue. He hated arguing with her.
Rena didn’t either.
Ray finally sat on the edge of the bed, reaching for Magnolia again. “I’m right here, sweetheart. I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”
Magnolia blinked hard, her confusion pulsing through the room like fog.
Meadow climbed onto the bed beside her mother and wrapped her arms around her gently, humming the tune Magnolia always recognized on her bad days. Slowly, Magnolia’s breathing eased, her shoulders lowering inch by inch.
The whole room exhaled with her.
Nobody said anything while Meadow jumped in with all the world on her back to calm her mama when she needed comfort too.
But life didn’t comfort Black women. It just handed more and more shit for them to fix— more shit for them to hold.
Never being allowed to hold anything they wanted— always what the world needed.
After Magnolia finally settled down, after Ray stopped shaking long enough to sit on the bed and breathe again, after Rena left the room muttering under her breath, Meadow stood there with her palms pressed into her thighs trying not to crumble.
Zaire stayed in the doorway, watching her like he wasn’t sure if touching her would make things better or blow the whole house up.
She brushed past him, heading toward the hallway. Zaire followed her because everything about her energy said she was about to break something or someone.
“Meadow,” he called quietly.
She ignored him.
“Meadow.”
Nothing.
By the time they hit the living room, Zaire had enough. He reached out and grabbed her wrist—not in a hurtful way, just enough to stop her spiraling feet.
She spun around, fire in her eyes.
“You trippin’,” he fussed.
“Boy, get off me.” Meadow jerked her arm away and stepped back like she needed physical distance just to breathe straight.
“Watch that boy, shit.” His nostrils flared.
Crossing her arms over her breasts, she glared at him. “Or what?!”
Zaire stared at her, taking in the anger, the exhaustion, the guilt riding her shoulders like bricks. “You really actin’ out right now.”