Chapter 28
Afew quiet weeks could change a whole life.
At least that’s what Meadow kept telling herself every morning she woke up and saw how much Green’s Driving Range had shifted since the chaos.
The fence stood tall now…Black metal, clean lines, stretching along the perimeter like a promise.
The land felt protected again. The bank had been cleared, the taxes were paid, and the reporters hadn’t come back since Zaire’s PR team handled the fallout and Ray ‘accidentally’ polished his shotgun on the porch for a week straight.
Lesha was back in Meadow’s room and had even started to make the room feel like home since she had no interest in leaving.
Zaire had even talked about selling his L.A. home, but Meadow told him not too. She wanted them to live in both places.
Zaire was calmer too. He’d been splitting his time between training, working with the contractors, sitting with Magnolia on her good days, and letting Meadow rest on the days where the weight of everything caught up with her.
Their nights were soft again…their mornings were quiet again...the fire between them was still there, still burning hot. But now it had a home, a place to sit down and grow.
Meadow wanted to give him something back.
Something that reminded him he was more than a man climbing out of survival mode, something that showed him he deserved romance too.
Which was why she was up at dawn, sneaking out of bed before Zaire could pull her back with that sleepy arm of his, he always draped across her waist. She threw on leggings, a hoodie, and tiptoed through the guests house.
Meadow had planned this date for a week. Paid deposits, booked pilots, picked snacks, and even practiced a speech in the bathroom mirror.
She wanted to get it right because Zaire was so deserving. The way he came into her life and actually shifted it. If she could give him the universe, she would.
By noon, she had the vintage Cadillac parked outside the guest house. Zaire stepped out right on time with a fresh haircut, white tee hugging his chest, gray sweats sitting low, and his chain glistening in the sun. His waves were showing off like they were trying to win their own tournament.
He stopped halfway down the steps when he saw her behind the wheel.
“You still don’t listen,” he hollered, rubbing his face. “You not supposed to be drivin’ me anywhere, cuh.”
Meadow smiled behind her sunglasses. “It’s a surprise, just get in.”
“For what?”
“Zaire,” she leaned back against the seat, letting the sun kiss her skin. “Please let me do this for you.”
He stared at her for the longest second ever, his mouth twitching at the corners like she was difficult on purpose and he loved her for it.
“Aight,” he exhaled, opening the passenger door. “But if you curb this car, I’m drivin’ us home.”
She rolled her eyes and started the engine.
The Cadillac hummed like the old soul it was…bass deep, engine smooth, air blowing just enough to make her curls frizz at the ends. Meadow pulled onto the country road and played her music.
Zaire groaned dramatically when the playlist started. “Baby, why you keep playin’ this?”
“You love it,” she said, even though she knew damn well he didn’t.
“This ain’t L.A. music…this ain’t even close.” He pointed to the phone like it offended him. “This sounds like somebody who Googled ‘California songs’ and clicked the first thing that came up.”
She bit her lip to keep from laughing. “I’m trying to fit into your world.”
“You already in it,” he said, looking at her like she was the only person he’d ever driven down a backroad with. “You ain’t gotta do nothin’ else.”
Those words warmed her chest in places she used to keep locked away.
They drove past the pines, past the old convenience store, and past the hill where Magnolia used to take Meadow to watch storms roll in.
And then as they drove, the gate to the private airstrip came into view.
Zaire sat up slowly. “What you doin’, Marai?”
“You’ll see.”
“Aye, cuh.”
“You’ll see,” she sang back, parking near the hangar where a jet - smaller than commercial, but bigger than anything she could ever afford on her own, sat waiting with its door open and the stairs lowered.
Zaire’s eyes swept from the jet to her, then back to the jet and back to her.
“You didn’t.”
“I did.”
“With what money?”
“Yours,” she snickered.
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “But you didn’t want to pay the taxes?” he looked her upside her head.
“Oh my God! Are you ever going to let me forget that?”
“Hell nah, cuh.” He smirked.
She poked out her lip, making him concede.
“I can’t stand your spoiled ass sometimes, cuh.”
“Yes, you can. You love my spoiled ass.”
He cracked a smile. “Yeah, I do.”
She got out first, smoothing her hands down her skirt, nerves jumping around in her chest like a trapped heartbeat. When Zaire came around the front of the car, she held her hand out to him.
He took it without question.
“Welcome to your carriage in the sky,” The pretty blond flight attendant smiled, having already gotten the script form Meadow.
“Hello,” Meadow cheesed, extra giggly to be doing something for her man.
Zaire greeted the woman too.
They approached the steps together and he followed her up to whatever surprise she had waiting.
Inside the jet, Meadow had everything set up. Soft lighting…blankets…his favorite snacks like the weird expensive trail mix he swore helped his swing. She even paid extra for him to be able to smoke his weed.
A little speaker in the corner played something slow…something warm…something she knew he wouldn’t complain about.
He looked around, hands in his pockets, shaking his head slowly.
“What is all this?”
“A date,” Meadow said softly, “for you.”
Zaire tilted his head. “Why?”
She sucked in air because this was the part she practiced, the part she wanted to get perfect. “I wanted you to see the world you’re building for me…through my eyes.”
He grabbed his heart. “Aye,” his voice was so light, he barely recognized it.
Meadow stepped closer until she had both hands on his chest. “You fix everything for me. You protect me even when you mad at me. You show up for my Mama, you take care of my Daddy and love your Mama. You even let these kids climb all over you like you ain’t the best golfer walking this earth.
” Her voice trembled. “You give me so much…and I wanna give you something too.”
She gestured at the jet, her smile softening into something almost shy.
“This is what you deserve. Soft things…nice things…a world that don’t take from you, every time you breathe.”
Zaire stumbled back. He grabbed her by the waist and lifted her effortlessly onto the leather seat.
She yelped. “Ba-!”
“You talk too damn much,” he muttered, stepping between her knees.
She grinned, brushing her thumb over his jaw. “You like your surprise?”
“I love you,” he said. “The rest just extra.”
She pulled him closer. “Sit down. Let me spoil you for once.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You gon’ feed me grapes too?”
She reached for the trail mix. “Even better.”
“Nah, Meadow,” he laughed, low and deep. “Don’t start none.”
She kissed him, slow enough to make his breath hitch.
“You ready for your flight, Mr. Cooks?”
He smirked. “You flyin’ this?”
“No.”
He relaxed. “Thank God.”
“It’s still my plan, though,” she warned.
He shook his head, smiling like she was the only thing he believed in. “Then take me wherever you want.”
The flight attendant announced they were getting ready for takeoff, prompting them to take their seats. Meadow passed him a half-rolled blunt that made him laugh too hard for her liking. Still, he fired it up. Rules be damned.
The plane hummed…the clouds parted…Juniper Falls shrunk beneath them.
Zaire leaned back in his seat, puffing his blunt, looking at his baby across from him, and let himself feel nothing but love. “I guess you had to have your carriage some kind of way.”
Her face lit up.
This was their version of love. Their version of Cinderella…Marai.
Raw…black…real.
The higher they climbed, the quieter the world became.
Clouds floated like soft smoke around the windows. The hum of the engine settled into a low vibration that felt almost intimate. Meadow loosened her seatbelt and slid over to the side of the jet where the small desk and window merged into a perfect little nook for two.
Zaire watched her move like she was the only thing worth watching. Her body…her calm…her intention…every ounce of what she’d put into this date.
She patted the spot beside her. “Get yo’ ass over here.”
Zaire unbuckled his belt with the slow annoyance of a man who liked pretending he wasn’t pressed. He dropped into the seat next to her, legs wide, shoulders heavy, his whole body giving that West Coast ease she’d fallen in love with in ways her Mama would’ve warned her about.
“Why you smilin’ like that?” he asked, leaning his head back to study her.
“Because you look…peaceful,” Meadow murmured, gently tugging his beard. “I don’t see that enough.”
“Shit,” he scoffed under his breath, it be hard to find.”
“Well,” she whispered, leaning closer, “look for it here.”
She tapped the glass, nodding toward the view below. The land rolled out in patchwork squares under them - fields, clusters of trees, long driveways, a glint of water cutting through somebody’s property. In the distance, a familiar spread sat like a small green jewel against the darker earth.
“That’s us,” Meadow said quietly. “Right there…Green’s…look how little it looks from up here.”
Zaire leaned in, his shoulder brushing hers as he squinted down at the speck of their world. “Crazy,” he mumbled. “All that weight on your back, and from up here it looks like a thumbnail.”
Meadow sighed. “Yeah.”
His eyes shifted to another stretch of land beside it - wider, unmanaged, trees crowding up against rough patches of dirt. “Who owns that?”
“I think the Millers still do,” she replied. “They let it sit, been like that since I was a kid.”
Zaire kept his eyes on it. “I’m gon’ buy that.”