Chapter 14 Don’t Push Me
DON’T PUSH ME
“Ain’t no way in hell I’m about to sit around the dinner table with her like shit is sweet!” Henna could be heard screaming inside Petal and Horace’s home when Heavy pulled up with Giselle and the kids.
He didn’t bother knocking since the door had been left open, so he yanked the screen door toward him and barged inside.
“You still got an issue, Henna?” Heavy’s voice sent her head whipping toward him.
Petal sat in her favorite recliner, and Prischa hovered in the doorway between the dining room and kitchen with her arms crossed. Pierre sat next to Viggo on the couch with Ninetendo switch in hand, oblivious to the drama around him.
“Oh, I got subscriptions, brother. Plenty of them,” she drawled, cutting a sharp glare in Giselle’s direction as the kids walked in and stood on either side of her.
It was hard to stand there all indignant and mad when she saw Harlee and Heir. Their little innocent faces melted Henna’s heart, instantly reminding her of she and her brother.
“Do us both a favor then. Either cancel ’em or I do it for you,” Heavy instructed. “Petal, you didn’t tell me you invited her or anybody else, so what’s going on?”
“Don’t come in here with that attitude, Huey!” Petal scolded, the familiar sound of her husband’s Ford engine suddenly in the driveway dividing her attention.
“Huey!” Harlee covered her mouth and giggled.
“That’s my name too!” Heir pointed to himself.
“You got it from me,” Heavy told him over his shoulder.
Eyes big as a bug, Heir looked up at his mama.
“I asked everybody here because whether you like it or not, we are all connected,” Petal got up gradually, “through them.” Her keen almond shaped eyes landed on Heir and Harlee as they went around, examining little things in her retro living room.
“Now, Giselle made a mistake. Nobody is denying that, not even her,” Petal began.
“It’s real easy for you to be mad, Henna.
Heavy too. Seeing his example in all this is why I’m able to forgive and not hold onto my anger.
I’ve watched him hold grudges all his life, and for the first time, he set that aside for a bigger purpose. ”
“So, now we welcome her with open arms?”
“Would you rather not have a relationship with your niece and nephew?” Petal suggested.
Henna didn’t answer, and Petal nodded as her husband and son’s voices carried into the front entryway.
“The hell going on in here?” Horace questioned, looking around at all the frowned-up faces. “Who needs a whupping?”
“Nobody for now,” Petal replied. “Ladies, come set the table with me.”
“What about us?” Harlee queried.
“Viggo, take the kids back to the spare room. I got them all set up in there with a TV, toys, and somewhere to sleep,” Petal instructed.
“You good?” Heavy inched closer to Giselle, placing a hand on her waist and searching her stoic expression.
Petal nudged Henna out the door so they could go down the hall to the kitchen.
“I just don’t want to be the reason there’s any problems between your family.” Giselle glanced guiltily at the ground.
“What I tell you last night?” he asked, holding out his two fingers.
Smiling, Giselle brought hers up and tapped them against his twice.
“Locked in.”
“Don’t forget it.” Heavy kissed her forehead, and she inhaled his spellbinding cologne.
“Giselle, that means you too!” Petal called from her kitchen.
From the doorway to the kitchen, Giselle paused. Henna, Prischa, and Petal were all gathered around her big, concrete topped island, muttering and grabbing plates, napkins, and eating utensils.
“Don’t be scared, chile. Come on in here.” Petal waved for her to join them. “Now, I don’t know everything about you, so these dinners are a chance for us to get to know each other. Pri, baby, grab some cups too.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I know Remi is your auntie, and that’s a wild woman there. I love her to death, though. She can go toe to toe with the best of ’em.”
“That, she can,” Giselle agreed.
“You seem to be a little feisty too. She told me about your parents and that whole situation. I’m so sorry for your loss.” Petal’s tone shifted, laced with empathy as Giselle went taut across the counter.
Her entire face went somber as her eyes fell on the counter.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up anything painful for you.”
“No. It’s okay.” She shook her head and forced a smile on her face. “Just tell me what I can do.” She surveyed the arrangement on the counter.
“Well, I want to get to know you. You are the mother to my great-grandchildren and Remi’s niece. I read a few things, and Remi told me you are an interior designer.”
“I was. Not sure I can say that now,” Giselle muttered.
“Grab those plates and walk with me,” Petal instructed.
Giselle followed Petal, who led her through the kitchen opening and into her dining room.
The long oak table could easily seat up to ten people.
Obviously, they were used to hosting. Petal didn’t pry while talking to Giselle as they set the table.
She asked questions and let her talk. Giselle found it easy to converse with the woman, and soon, the entire table had been set with the help of Henna and Prischa.
“Okay, heathens! Time to eat!” Petal called, standing behind her chair at the head of the table and facing Horace’s on the opposite end.
Four chairs lined each side of the table, and she smiled when Heir and Harlee came racing in.
Viggo and Pierre weren’t far behind, and there was an odd exchange between him and Prischa that Giselle noticed.
“Horace, bring one more chair in for Pierre!” Petal called to her husband as Toussaint and Heavy entered the room. “Giselle, you four can sit on this side.” Petal waved to the chairs near the row of windows. “Everybody else on the other side.”
Horace brought in an additional chair and set it between his and Viggo’s at the table. Prischa sat beside him, with Henna and Toussaint in the last chairs.
“Come on, you two. Have a seat,” Giselle encouraged the twins.
“Mama, I want to sit next to Daddy Heavy!” Harlee requested.
“Of course you do, Harlee.”
Shaking his head at his bossy ass daughter, Heavy pulled out the chair next to his for her to sit while Giselle pulled out the one beside her so Heir could be near his twin. When she moved to her own chair, surprisingly Heavy stepped up to pull it out for her.
“Thank you.” She smiled at him.
Henna rolled her eyes and cut them toward Prischa as Pierre settled in his seat.
“Horace, bless the food,” Petal instructed.
“Bless this table. Bless this meat. Bless my stomach ’cause I got the munchies and I’m ready to eat,” Horace recited, hands steepled together and eyes closed.
“Lord!” Petal hollered while everyone else chuckled.
A hot roast with veggies and potatoes sat in the center, surrounded by mashed potatoes, a gravy bowl, and a wicker basket filled with fresh butter biscuits. Giselle made a plate for Heir, and Heavy did the same for Harlee, and soon everyone was stuffing their faces.
“Petal, this roast is like butter, practically melting in my mouth,” Giselle complimented.
“Thank you. I’ll have to give you my recipe instructions. Not everybody can do a good roast or brisket.”
“I want more mashed potatoes!” Harlee voiced.
“Make sure you eat those carrots too,” Heavy instructed.
“Good luck with that,” Giselle muttered. “I have to trick them into veggies by slipping them in smoothies.”
“So… what did everyone do last night?” Petal questioned, picking up her glass of tea and taking a sip.
Tension suddenly cloaked the air, swirling around everyone. Prischa cleared her throat, and Viggo picked up his drink and sipped. Horace peered around at the faces that all seemed to tell a story and chewed pensively. Something was damn sure up.
“Why does everyone look like they’re about to confess to a crime?” He chuckled, picking up a napkin and wiping his mouth.
Prischa flinched and shifted in her chair while Henna smirked into her glass.
She watched it all with quiet delight, enjoying the chaos as much as she did a good dessert.
Prischa and Viggo going at it was a surprise, and part of her wanted to see Heavy’s reaction to it.
He might not want to be with her, but that didn’t mean he wanted Viggo sliding up in her.
If him reacting the wrong way also set Giselle off, even better.
“What’s going on?” Petal questioned.
“Yes, Pri, anything new with you?” Henna inquired, peeking at her girl over her glass when she took another sip.
“New like what?” Prischa moved her potatoes around on her plate, avoiding the many eyes on her.
“I don’t know. Maybe got that back cracked recently.” Henna cackled.
“Now why would she want to share that with the table?” Petal queried. “I swear, Henna, sometimes I wonder about you. There are children present.”
“Exactly.” Prischa cut her eyes at Henna.
She had no idea that she’d witnessed her and Viggo going at it last night, and the curious stare from Heavy across the table left her flustered.
Giselle picked up on him going rigid before looking at Viggo, then Prischa.
Something was damn sure up with them. Although sitting side by side, they hadn’t said a word or even interacted with each other, and that wasn’t normal.
Viggo would normally compliment her or tease her about something, but they were both quiet as church mice.
“You fucking with her,” Heavy blurted, causing his sister to spit her drink out.
The entire table froze, and Prischa looked down at her plate in shame. Giselle listened to his tone, and her heart cracked a little. He sounded angry. Not over it. Like Viggo had violated.
“You said a bad word,” Harlee pointed out while chewing.
“Yes, he did, and he knows better,” Petal chastised.
“Listen, Heavy, it wasn’t like that—” Prischa tried to explain, which slowly sent Viggo’s head spinning in her direction.