Chapter 12
When I told my mom about Kaynaan’s invitation to the Thanksgiving Day game, I thought she would be sad.
And she was. But she was also accepting.
She told me that if my relationship with Kaynaan ended up going where she thought it would go, I would spend a lot of Thanksgivings on the sidelines as opposed to at the dinner table.
She was low-key annoyed that she agreed to host. If she hadn’t, she would’ve been right beside me at the game.
“Your mom’s right,” he told me when I finished telling him my mother’s response to me missing dinner at her table.
“I will expect you and my daughter at the games on Thanksgiving. But on the real, I’m wrapping this football thing up in the next couple of years.
You and my daughter will probably only have to do this two more times. ”
I glanced over at him. We were seated in the back seat of his truck as Axel drove us to the airfield.
“I don’t know how I feel about all this, my daughter, my daughter stuff.
On the one hand, I’m appreciative of the fact that you want me and you’re willing to not only accept me, but to claim my child.
On the other hand, I don’t want to get too comfortable.
Because the truth of the matter is that this baby isn’t related to you biologically.
You can jet at any time.” I shook my head.
“Not that biological fathers don’t jet. I’m just saying. ”
He picked up my hands in his. “I don’t want you to think that I don’t get how scary this is for you. Just because I’m sure, I understand that you have your doubts—”
Tears sprang to my eyes unbidden. Pregnancy was wreaking real havoc on my emotions and on my ability to handle them.
“I know this is so cliché, but it really isn’t about you or anything you’re doing.
It’s about me. It’s about my relationship with Channing.
” I cried. “If anybody was supposed to make it, we were. We loved each other for years. And now I don’t even want to be in the same room as him.
I feel like I can’t let myself free fall with you, because I know that sometimes people drop you. ”
“Damn.” His eyes were wide. “You just said a mouthful.”
“I’m messed up, Kaynaan.”
“No more than anybody else. You have a past. Everybody does.”
“But mine is messing up my future.” I huffed out a frustrated sigh. “You’re a patient guy, but nobody has unlimited patience. I’m so scared that you’re gonna get sick of me.”
He chuckled lightly. “Nah, Brown Eyes. We’re locked in. You’re mine. I’m not afraid to do the work it’s gonna take to love you properly.”
I scooted closer to him and rested my head on his arm.
This man had my entire heart, but the thought of sharing that fact with him made my heart race.
I couldn’t have another promising relationship end the way my relationship with Channing ended.
“I don’t know how to turn off my brain’s fight or flight response. I might have to talk to somebody.”
He kissed my forehead. “I appreciate that you’re willing to consider doing that.”
“I wanna be yours, Kaynaan.”
“You’re already mine.”
We landed at the airfield, climbed into the truck Kaynaan arranged to pick us up, then headed straight to his grandparents’ home.
“They don’t say it,” he told me in the truck, “but I feel like having their Thanksgiving situation on Wednesday rather than Thursday is something my family really appreciates. They act like they have to inconvenience themselves for me. I’m supposed to be all humble and thankful that they’re willing to support me when the rest of the country is at home enjoying family fellowship.
But the truth of the matter is that I buy out an entire section and give them free tickets to one of the most popular games of the season.
Only three games are televised on Thanksgiving, and they get to attend one of them.
” He waved his hand dismissively. “Anyway, when we get there, don’t laugh when you see me being all fake humble and repeatedly thanking them for inconveniencing themselves. ”
“Wow,” I said.
“Yeah. If I don’t act appreciative, some of my family members’ll spend the next year telling my parents how I’m changing and how my head’s getting too big.
Personally, I wouldn’t give a damn what those people have to say.
But I don’t like them talking shit to my mom.
She has a high-pressure career. She doesn’t need to worry about them in her face. ”
That made me grin. “Such a mama’s boy,” I teased.
He grinned, too. “I do love that woman.”
“So, humble. Okay. Should I bow at the waist or just curtsy?”
He guffawed loudly.
“Is there ring kissing involved?” I continued.
“You’re wild as hell. It’s not like that. I’m saying, you’re a guest. I’ll kiss the rings.”
I giggled.
“Nah, on the real. I’ll do the humility. You just be you. I’ve never brought a woman to Thanksgiving, so there are probably gonna be some stares and shit.”
“What?”
“What?” he repeated. “I’ve never brought a woman to Thanksgiving.”
“Are the women in your family petty? Are they bullies? I should’ve brought my mom . . . or at least LoLo.”
“What do you mean, are they bullies?”
I side-eyed him. “You know how women can be to each other. Are they gonna be making little slick remarks and bringing up the chick you dated in high school that they loved?”
He sighed. “In my experience with them . . . I’m gonna say . . .”
“That’s a lot of hesitation, Kaynaan. That must mean that they’re mean girls.” I sighed again. “I wish you would’ve told me this. I definitely would’ve brought LoLo. Now it’s gonna be me versus your family?”
He twisted his face. “Hell nah. I’ll curse every damn body out before that happens.
” He typed into his phone. “And I’m enlisting Shiloh and Eden to look out for you if for some reason I get pulled away.
You know Shiloh’s cool. Eden is more like LoLo.
She’ll go round for round if somebody says something slick.
The thing about my family is that none of the people who will be here ever remember a time when the Israels didn’t have money.
“Before my great grandfather founded Grand Aviation, he was an aeronautic engineer for Eastern Airlines. They were very much well fixed. They had money. My great grandfather founding Grand Aviation took them into the next stratosphere. They went from rich to very wealthy. They’ve ever only known wealth.
They can be pretentious and elitist. I’ll try my best to keep them away from you. ”
“Please do. And please, please, let’s not let anybody know that I’m pregnant.”
“Okay.”
I was quiet for the rest of the drive thinking that agreeing to come had been a mistake and praying that things wouldn’t go left.
Kaynaan said that Thanksgiving was held at his paternal grandparents’ house.
What he meant was that it was held at their estate.
We were met at the gate house by an attendant who greeted Kaynaan by name.
He opened the gates to allow the truck to drive up the long tree-lined pathway.
Soon, we pulled onto a circular driveway that was already lined with vehicles.
“Are we late? This is a lot of cars and trucks.”
“We’re not late. Let’s go.”
I had never really thought about the intrinsic differences between people with regular money and those who had wealth for generations until we walked into Kaynaan’s grandparents’ home.
When we stepped into the elaborate foyer, we were not greeted with the smells one would associate with Thanksgiving dinner being prepared.
Instead, the air smelled like a combination of lilacs and sunshine.
“Kaynaan,” an older lady wearing an all-black ensemble consisting of starched black slacks, a black pullover top, and black loafers said with a smile when she spotted us.
“Ms. Cora. Hey.” He pulled her into a firm hug.
She patted his back several times before they broke the embrace. Then her gaze was on me. “This must be her,” she said conspiratorially. “Mrs. Georgia musta mentioned that you was bringin’ a lady friend home for Thanksgivin’ every day for the last ten days. First time you ever done that.”
He grinned at her. “I know.”
She looked at me and gave a small smile. “You must be special.”
Kaynaan jumped in. “She is. Wyn, this is Ms. Cora. She practically raised my sisters and me while our parents worked.”
“Easiest child I ever had a hand in raising,” she said.
“Ms. Cora, this is my girl, my future, Wyndi.”
“It’s nice to meet you.” I extended my hand.
Cora shook it but then pulled me into a hug.
“What a pretty little thing you are. I see how you stole this one’s heart.
He never could resist long hair. He never left his mama’s alone.
When he was about six, Dr. Bethany cut her hair because it was getting in the way during surgeries.
This one here”—She hiked her thumb toward Kaynaan—“was inconsolable. Cried for hours until he cried himself to sleep. Woke up and cried some more.”
We all laughed.
“Well, don’t let me keep you, baby. Go on out to the backyard. That’s where the family is. You know those boys done brought out that football, and those men are probably messing around on that putting green your grandfather had put in. We won’t eat for another coupla hours.”
He dropped a kiss on her smooth fair skin. “See you later.”
He took my hand and led me down an ornate hallway that was lined with formal family pictures. I wanted to look at them. See if I could pick out a young Kaynaan, but he seemed to be on a mission.
“You nervous?” I asked him.
“If nervous is a code word for dreading something.”
“You’re dreading?” I stopped walking.
“It has nothing to do with you and everything to do with my grandmother. I have this feeling in my stomach that she’s about to say or do something that’s gonna make you feel some type of way, and I’m gonna have to rock her shit.”
That made me crack up. “You’re willing to hit your grandmother for me?” I whispered.
“I’ll knock all her teeth out her mouth. She’ll be gumming all this Thanksgiving dinner.”
We started walking again. “If she says something crazy, just . . . protect me. This is your family. I don’t wanna get all out of pocket and make a bad impression.”
“No worries. I’ll take the entire fall. I’ll make a whole ass of myself while you stand there looking dismayed, like you don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me. Like you’re confused about why I’m making such a big deal out of it.”
“I like that plan.”
“I’m on it.”
We moved through the kitchen. Of course, it was extravagant.
A chef’s dream kitchen with all the bells and whistles done in a pristine creamy white and a coastal blue.
An elaborate chandelier hung over an oversized marble island.
It was gorgeous. Everything I had seen was gorgeous. My anxiety mounted.
We walked out of the double French doors and onto an expansive deck.
The backyard was the size of a park, and people were everywhere.
He made a beeline toward an elegant looking group of seasoned black women sitting on casual but expensive looking patio furniture.
I knew one of those women was his grandmother, and the others were probably her sisters or her sisters-in-law.
He stopped in front of the prettiest, most regal looking woman. “Nana, happy Thanksgiving.”
She looked up and broke into a dimpled smile that was similar to Kaynaan’s. “Juney!” She clapped her hands together. “You’d better bend down here and give me my hug and kiss.”
“I know that’s right,” one of the other women seconded.
He gave his grandmother a squeeze and a kiss on the cheek. “Hey, ladies.” He included them all with a big smile. “Aunt Hilda. Aunt Rose. Aunt Gloria. Aunt Vida.”
Greetings went through the group.
When it was finally quiet, he spoke again. “This is my lady, Wyndi. Wyndi, these are my aunts and this”—He pointed at his grandmother—“is Georgia Israel, my grandmother.”
“Hello.” I didn’t recognize my own voice; it was so demure yet bubbly. “It’s so nice to meet you all.”
The aunts all shared small smiles and greetings. The grandmother’s face remained impassive. “Wyndi? Is that your given name?”
“It’s a nickname. My given name is Wyndsor.”
“How beautiful,” one of the aunts muttered.
“That’s unusual and very formal. Is that a family name?”
“It’s a name that my mother favored.” I prayed she wouldn’t ask me my last name. The gig would totally be up if she did.
“Well, it’s lovely, Wyndsor, and so are you. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” His grandmother extended her hand, and I shook it. “My Juney here has never brought any young lady home to spend Thanksgiving with the family. We’ve all been very curious.”
I had no idea how to respond to that bit of information, so I kept that fake smile plastered on my face.
“Now you’ve met her,” Kaynaan said, breaking the awkward silence that had fallen over us. “I’m about to take her and introduce her to Eden.”
“Make sure you introduce her to your mother,” his grandmother suggested.
“She already met mom . . . and dad and Shiloh.”
Eyebrows were raised, but no one spoke, until his grandmother piped up. “Wyndsor, you’ve met my son and my daughter-in-law?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Oh. My grandson must be very smitten with you.”
Kaynaan pulled me into a side hug. “Facts.”
I wanted to laugh because no matter how upper crust and pretentious a person tried to be, there was always that one relative who wasn’t going. And that relative was Kaynaan.
She rolled her eyes at her grandson, but I could tell it was all in love, and she gave me a genuine smile. “Welcome.”
I breathed a huge sigh of relief as we walked away from the group of older ladies. I felt like I could finally relax. “So uh,” I began, “why didn’t the house smell like food?”
He chuckled. “Because my grandmother and her sisters-in-law are ladies who lunch, not ladies who cook lunch. Those women probably wouldn’t remember where to start cooking a Thanksgiving dinner if they tried.
They outsource that type of stuff. A catering company will show up in a few hours with everything we need to have a traditional dinner. ”
“Really? That sounds very . . . old money.”
“That’s them, old money.”