Page 2 of Honey's Special Roux

“Come on, y’all. We can continue playing after we’ve filled our tummies with Granny Jay’s delicious cooking!” Aunt Halimah, or Hal for short, ushered the smaller kids into the house. Our home was large, so we always had a house full on the weekends.

“What did you help cook today?” Aunt Hal asked when she’d made it over to me on the porch.

“I helped with the cornbread. I also peeled the eggs and mixed the ingredients for the deviled eggs.”

“You know what I was doing at fifteen?” she asked with a light chuckle.

“What were you out here doing in these streets, Aunt Hal?”

“Chasing booty.” The seriousness in her face had me doubling over with laughter.

“You were doingwhat?” I asked for clarification between giggles.

“You heard me, Honey. I was a menace in high school. I’d just come out to my mama and daddy, and my little teenage stud phase had the streets going crazy.”

I shook my head. “You are a mess, Auntie.”

“I’ve come to terms with who I am, though. The stud life ain’t for me like I thought it was.”

Aunt Halimah was my daddy’s Irish twin sister. They were exactly a year apart, born on the same day. She was his splitting image, sharing his deep, chocolate brown skin, round eyes, and toned stature.

Chamille and Aunt Halimah were close. I figured my sister was interested in girls, but I wouldn’t force her to come out until she was ready—if that was what it was. Some women genuinely were more masculine without being queer, and that was cool too.

When I returned to the kitchen, everyone was in line with plates. It was a calm chaos in the way everyone chatted while plates moved around the room. I’d joined Granny in the dining room where she had the Tupperware open.

“Grab the square container for me, Honey. Then I want you to grab the small circular cups so you can put a couple of servings of puddin’ in there for me.”

I nodded and did as she instructed. It took us about ten minutes to get all the food packaged and put in a brown paper bag with the handles on it. I carried it with a secure hand on the bottom as Granny led us to the neighbors’ house next door.

She knocked and we waited.

“Hey, Dedra.” Granny Janie greeted the woman who peeked through the cracked door.

“Hey, Miss Janie. What brings you by?” Dedra asked as she opened the door wider and stepped out onto the porch.

“I know what it’s like to step in with raising someone else’s kids. I wanted to take some of the stress of Sunday dinner off your shoulders and bring you by some food. We’ve got a bit of everything in here,” Granny explained.

“Thank you so much, Janie. You know I’m exhausted from the back and forth to get Marquise all settled in. Dayari! Can you come get this bag for me, baby?” She called out to her daughter.

Dayari and I went to school together. We had a few elective classes in common. We were in speech and culinary together this school year. She was a grade ahead of me, though. We weren’t best friends, but we spoke and hung out every now and then.

A few moments later, Dayari walked outside. I held the bag out for her to take.

“Hey, Honey,” she sang.

“Hey, girl! How are you?” I asked.

“Tired. I had to help move my cousin’s stuff into the guest room.”

“Aw man. They had you doing heavy lifting? I would have pretended to throw my back out or something,” I joked.

We shared a cool laugh.

“The food smells so good. I can’t wait to make me a plate. Thank you, Miss Janie.” Dayari spoke to my grandmother.

“You’re welcome.”

Dayari took the bag into the house. Dedra folded her arms over her chest and released a deep sigh. “I don’t know how we’re going to deal with that boy, Janie. He’s always in trouble. It’s understandable from his circumstances, but this is going to be a tough job for me to take on. He’s almost seventeen. He’s been in the streets his whole life with a mother too strung out on drugs to take care of him. His father ain’t no better. It’s crazy to know Chance’s brother could be responsible for her death. It’s just so much grief and pain in this house. I feel suffocated already.”

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