Page 32 of Gotta Jones For Ya
“Girl, shut the hell up,” he shot back, but he was smilin’. “You still don’t know how to burn in the kitchen like this. Grow up.”
“Fuck you.”
“Y’all bickerin’ over food like I won’t bust a cap in both of y’all asses,” Granny threatened, and we all laughed.
The mood was cool as fuck until Keema’s baby father, Milton, reached across Nyomi for the hot pan of baked mac.
“Damn, nigga!” I barked. “Say excuse me, greedy muthafucka.”
“My bad, my bad,” he muttered, barely lookin’ up. “I just needed another scoop.”
“It’s fine,” Nyomi said, just lookin’ back and forth like she was watchin’ a tennis match. She leaned into me and whispered, “This is a sitcom.”
“Nah,” I grinned, kissin’ her temple. “This is a hood classic.” Across the table, my niece Mariah had her whole lil’ face in a piece of chicken.
“Baby, you don’t need all that hot sauce,” Granny said gently. “It’s gon’ make your stomach bubble.”
“I like spicy,” she mumbled.
“You gon’ like the toilet too,” Monae chimed in without even lookin’ up from her phone.
“Give ya mama that damn phone, Nae,” Uncle Buck barked, snatchin’ it. “You act like we ain’t sittin’ here as a family.”
“It was just a text!” she groaned.
“He ain’t wrong,” Keema cut her eyes at Monae. “I don’t care if it was Jesus on read. This the only day we all sit down together, you gon’ respect it.”
“Thank you,” Granny added, fork paused midair. “All these kids glued to these damn devices these days. I miss the days y’all used to be outside ‘til the street lights came on.”
“You also used to beat our ass wit’ extension cords,” I mumbled.
“And I’ll bust a cap in your ass now. Try me.”
Laughter exploded ‘round the table. Nyomi smirked, shakin’ her head. “Y’all are too funny.”
“I swear,” Antt reached for the Henny. “Once you come to one dinner, you locked in. Granny, don’t let folks come and go.”
“I already told her she stuck,” I added, one hand under the table restin’ on Nyomi’s thigh. “She ain’t goin’ nowhere.”
“I like her,” Granny said suddenly, eyes still on her plate but her voice clear and firm. “She don’t talk too much. Don’t dress like she goin’ to the club. She listen. And she brought dessert.”
“Period,” Keema said, holdin’ up her glass of juice like it was wine. “Bro’s in love.”
“I see that,” Granny said, finally glancin’ at me wit’ that knowin’ look. “You softer wit’ her. Eyes don’t move the same. Energy calmer.”
“Calm? Who?” Nyomi chuckled, and everyone laughed again.
I cleared my throat and rubbed my beard, pretending like I wasn’t caught. Nyomi looked over at me wit’ a lil’ smirk, like she was proud to be the reason I was out here lookin’ whipped. I could see it all over her ass.
Monae asked, “So… are y’all like, datin’? Or are y’all just talkin’ and linkin’ up?”
I blinked. Milt snorted. “Girl, what you know about linkin’ up?” Keema asked, her tone sharp.
“Nothin’!”
I chuckled low. “Nah, Nae, this ain’t that. I’m tryna lock her down ASAP.”
“Ohhhhhh,” Wayne dragged, tappin’ his glass wit’ a butter knife like we just had a proposal.
