Chapter 14 #2
“Auntie, Bine here!” one of her niece’s announced before giving Sabine a hug.
“Bine, that you?” Pam’s voice called from the kitchen.
“Just came to grab Ade,” she said, loud enough to be heard.
Pam appeared in the archway with a dish towel over her shoulder and a toothpick in her mouth, eyes warm but knowing.
That old-school Black woman gaze that could see through everything you thought you hid.
Her curly wig was slightly off-center, probably from cooking up a storm and running after Ade all day and her eyeliner was loud but somehow, it all looked perfect on her.
“You not ‘bout to just run off like that,” Pam said, already turning back toward the kitchen. “Come sit. He out back actin’ like he ain’t got no damn sense. They just put the slip-n-slide down. It’s nice enough.”
“I don’t wanna interrupt.”
“Bine, please don’t make me cuss ya out,” Pam waved her off. “Bring yo ass in this here kitchen!”
Sabine hesitated. She shouldn’t. She came to get her son and go but.
..this was Pam and the house felt like how it always had.
Warm. Familiar. Her heart was heavy, and suddenly the idea of sitting down for just a minute didn’t feel so bad.
She stepped into the kitchen, and just like that, Pam already had a plate in her hand—catfish, potato salad, green beans, and one of her famous homemade honey butter biscuits.
“I’m not that hungry,” Sabine lied through her teeth.
Pam gave her a look.
Sabine took the plate and sat down at the kitchen table, glancing around the room. There were still photos of her and Adair on the wall. Family pictures. Birthdays. A framed sonogram. She looked away before her eyes could land on too much. Pam eased into the seat across from her, sipping sweet tea.
“How are you my baby?”
Sabine chewed slow, then nodded. “I’m alright.”
Pam clicked her tongue. “I heard about what happened last night.”
“We got into it.” Sabine set her fork down, wiped her mouth, and let out a sigh. “Badly.”
“I heard…everybody did.”
“That’s not how I wanted it to go. I didn’t even want to argue. I was trying to be quiet and leave even after he pushed me.”
“And I promise I lit his ass up for that!” Pam stomped her foot. “Got to be out his muthafuckin’ mind puttin’ his hands on you! Geechie simple ass shouldn’t ever have him step out of himself like that.”
Sabine looked down at her plate. She hadn’t meant to eat the whole biscuit, but it was gone.
She tore a piece of the catfish and chewed slow.
“I don’t even know who I was last night.
It’s like I snapped. Seeing him fight like that, then push me like I wasn’t the mother of his child? Like I wasn’t…” she trailed off.
“His wife?” Pam offered, realizing she too forgot at times that they were no longer married.
“I know he wrong, baby. Don’t think I don’t.
I told him as much. I ain’t ever interfered in y’all shit and when I did, I never took his side when he was wrong.
You should’ve seen the way I lit into his ass this mornin’.
Made him go outside and sweep the driveway just so I wouldn’t slap the taste out his mouth in front of Ade. ”
Sabine huffed a half-laugh, but it broke quick. “I don’t want Ade to grow up in this mess. I don’t want him thinking this is what love looks like. Or our shit mixing with how we raise him.”
“And you got every right to feel how you feel, Bine.”
Sabine pushed a piece of fish around with her fork. “I used to love this house. Now I don’t even feel like I belong in it.”
“You do,” Pam said without blinking. “You always will.”
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s my pride. Maybe I should’ve stayed outside and just—"
“And let him think his mama ain’t welcome here? Naw.” Pam reached across the table, touching her hand. “You ain’t never gonna not be welcome in this house. I told Adair that same shit this morning when he tried to act like he ain’t know where he went wrong.”
“He thinks he was right?”
“He don’t think nothin’. That boy in his feelings. He embarrassed. He know what he did but that don’t mean you owe him forgiveness.” Pam leaned back, shaking her head. “I love my son but he hard-headed. And if losing you is what finally make him grow the fuck up, then so be it.”
Sabine’s throat got tight.
“I didn’t ask to carry all this, Pam. The grief. The healing. The co-parenting. I was just trying to…I don’t know…survive. I felt like…I wouldn’t make it sometimes,” she whispered, tears dropping onto her plate.
“And you did.” Pam’s voice softened. “You still are.”
The screen door slammed, and a burst of laughter came from the backyard—Ade chasing one of his cousins with a water gun through the kitchen.
“Hey mama!” he spoke while still shooting, then they were right back outside before she could even speak back.
“That boy loves you something fierce,” Pam smiled. “Don’t matter how much shit you and his lil ugly daddy go through, long as y’all keep showin’ up for him, he gon’ be alright. You gon’ be alright.”
“I just don’t want him to think I stayed where I wasn’t safe. Emotionally, I mean. I want him to know he deserves more. That his mama chose herself…and…and I do…” she caught herself. “Did…love his father so much.”
“Then make sure he knows. And whatever you decide in your personal life, if Adair don’t like it, that’s his business. You did your part. Now do you.”
They sat in silence a beat, the kitchen still loud with the muffled love and light of family life echoing from the rest of the house.
Pam stood, slicing a piece of her sock-it-to-me cake.
“I know you want a slice wit your greedy self,” she said, making Sabine laugh.
“Enjoy yourself, Bine. This is still your home and we still love you. Then go get your baby, if he let you take him. You know he gon’ cry when it’s time to leave cause Man Man and Jaron bad asses here. ”
Sabine wiped her face with a napkin, catching the tear before it hit her lip. “Thank you, Pa—mama,” she corrected quietly. “For this…for everything. You’ve always been so good to me.”
Pam waved her off like it was nothing, but her voice cracked just a little.
“Girl, you my daughter too. You think that title changed cause y’all signed some papers?
” She set the cake down in front of her.
“Now eat that and stop all that damn crying in my kitchen before I call all the kids in here and they shoot your ass up wit them water guns.”
Sabine laughed, for real this time. “Lord, don’t threaten me like that. They hold them like they really know what they doing.”
“Sheitttttt, I wouldn’t be surprised if Dre and Farah ain’t teach they asses already.”
They sat for a moment longer, just a mother and a daughter holding space in a kitchen that had seen joy and sorrow and still had room for both. No perfect words. No promises. Just a plate of food, a slice of cake, and a conversation that softened something in Sabine’s chest.
Eventually, she stood and rinsed her dish at the sink without being asked—like she’d always done. “I’m gonna go get Ade.”
“Tell Man Man to get his dirty ass off that slip-n-slide too! The sun goin’ down no! He be the main one gon’ get sick! Always coughin’ and shit!”
Sabine nodded her head with a smile, pushing through the screen. The backyard was chaos and comfort all at once. Kids screaming, laughing, slipping on the dry slide that the water had already gotten cut off to. Ade spotted her instantly but didn’t run over yet. He waved instead, big eyes bright.
In that moment—watching her son under the same sky they once danced beneath waiting on a gender reveal—Sabine realized something. She wasn’t done healing.
But she wasn’t broken either.