Nova
The house felt almost normal for a while.
It had been two weeks since Kyle’s death and everything seemed to be settling.
Outside, the wind had calmed, giving way to cool summer air.
Inside, laughter returned, halting and fragile.
I sat on the porch swing, one hand resting on my belly, the other brushing hair from my face.
Timberly, Tati and DJ giggled and screamed while they played.
“You can’t catch us!” Tati shrieked.
“Yes, I can!” Timberly shot back, barefoot in the grass, her laugh bubbling out.
For a second, I closed my eyes. I let myself pretend there were no boarded-up windows and no men with guns.
Or no threat on the horizon. Just my daughter laughing and Crew protecting and providing for us.
Crew stood by the porch rail, watching as always, eyes scanning the tree line.
I looked at him, taking in the circles under his eyes. The faint tremor in his big hands.
“Sit down.”
He didn’t even glance at me.
“I’m good.”
“Crew.”
His eyes flicked to my belly, then to my face. He exhaled, slumping slightly.
“Yeah. Okay.”
He sat heavily beside me on the swing, and I leaned into him, his arm going automatically around my shoulders.
We watched the kids run and play as I laid my head on his shoulder.
The sun warmed my skin as we watched the kids run wild in the backyard like nothing bad had ever touched their world.
Timberly’s laughter rang out as she chased Tati across the grass, both of them barefoot, faces sticky from popsicles.
Amyi was holding court under the tree, braiding DJ’s curls with pink barrettes while the triplets argued over a squirt gun that clearly didn’t work.
For a moment, it felt so normal. Not the kind you pray for, but the kind you fight for with blood and bone and sleepless nights.
This… this was what we’d bled for. And damn if it didn’t feel like it was worth it.
I glanced over my shoulder and caught Crew watching me out of the corner with reverence and love.
There was a time I didn’t think we’d get here, to this simple stretch of a good day, but we did.
And I wasn’t taking a second of it for granted.
I reached down and rested my hand on his thigh.
And thank God for this future that wasn’t promised, but one we were ready to go to war for.
Watching Timberly, strong and smiling, I knew she’d be ready too.
They tried to break us… but all they did was teach us how to fight harder.
Black sat on the porch steps, shotgun resting against his leg, quietly carving something into a chunk of wood. Blue lounged on a chair nearby, assembling a new drone. looked like statues, except for the way their eyes never stopped moving. Timberly and Tati ran to them breathless.
“Uncle Blue! Uncle Black! Come play tag!”
Black didn’t even look up.
“No.”
Tati huffed.
“Please?”
“We don’t run.” Blue said, mouth twitched.
“What do you do then?” Timberly asked, pouting.
“We teach.” Black said, finally looking at her.
He gestured them over, Timberly crawled into his lap without fear, Tati settling beside Blue. Black held up his carved wood piece. It was a tiny animal, a bear, rough but recognizable.
“First lesson. You watch, wait and see everything before it sees you.”
Timberly nodded solemnly. Blue set the drone aside, showing Tati how to break down a small .22 pistol.
“Second lesson. You learn. Even if you don’t want to.”
Tati stuck out her tongue but paid attention. I watched them with interest as Crew came up behind me and kissed her hair.
“They’re good with them.” I said.
“I appreciate them for helping us stay safe.”
“Me too.” He nodded.
Inside, Anesia, August, Crew and Ms. Patricia cooked in the kitchen.
The house smelled like fried chicken and biscuits, and I couldn’t wait to eat.
Having all of these people in our lives was a blessing and I was thankful.
I stood in the doorway for a long moment, watching them move in a rhythm that could only be called love.
Crew’s white tee clung to his chest, a towel thrown over one shoulder as he carefully checked the oil temperature for the next round of fried chicken.
August was at the other end of the kitchen, handling the mac and cheese like it was a matter of national security, while Ms. Patricia floated between them like a soul food fairy godmother, throwing her own spices in every pot and keeping both men in line with a wooden spoon and a raised eyebrow.
I smiled softly, a hand resting on my hip attempting to steal tastes of anything finished.
Anesia wiped sweat from her brow as she stood up to take a pan of biscuits out of the oven.
“This is the most people I’ve ever fed in my damn life.” She sighed.
“You love it.” August said, kissing her cheek with a grin.
“Shut up.” She snorted.
We were prepping for dinner with the whole family. It wasn’t much, just a thank you for all that everyone had done for us.
The dining room was packed by the time the food hit the table.
Tyra brought a peach cobbler so sweet it made your teeth hurt, and Cree showed up with cornbread muffins that were damn near illegal.
The men took their usual spots at the head of the long table, flanked by their women and children, while Timberly squeezed in between Crew and I, proud as hell to be at the grown folks' table.
Laughter filled the room, not just chuckles, but full belly laughs, laughs so healing they made you forget about war for a while.
Plates clattered, drinks were poured, and seconds turned into thirds before anyone even thought about dessert.
When the table was finally cleared and the dishes were being loaded into the sink, I stood with my glass of sweet tea and lemonade raised and my voice strong despite the lump in her throat.
“I just wanna say thank y’all. All of you. For protecting Timberly, saving me and for showing up when it mattered the most. This family… this circle… it means everything to us.”
The room grew still as I let the happy tears fall. Crew wrapped his arm around my shoulders, kissing the top of her head before nodding to his crew, his brothers, his sisters, his soldiers.
“Ain’t none of this possible without y’all. We live to protect ours. And I got all of you to thank for mine still being here.” He said, raising his glass.
Later, the adults drifted outside into the backyard, soft string lights glowing like stars in the darkening sky.
I curled into Crew’s lap, my head resting on his shoulder as the women sipped fruity cocktails and the men passed around whiskey and low murmurs of strategy.
The firepit crackled nearby while the kids, now half-asleep, curled up on blankets in hammocks put up by the twins on the porch.
It was the kind of evening you dreamed about after chaos.
This is how I knew that peace was possible, even if it was just for tonight. It was everything I had prayed for.