Page 33 of Gotta Jones For Ya
“Don’t start that shit,” I warned.
“Too late!” Uncle Buck hollered. “We need a toast or some shit.”
“To love!” Granny lifted her glass.
“To love and some bomb ass greens!” Antt added.
“To Knuck bringin’ a real one ‘round,” Keema smirked.
“To her not bein’ scared of this loud ass family,” Granny threw in.
“To spicy chicken!” Mariah shouted wit' both hands raised.
Everyone laughed again. Loud. Big. Full.
Nyomi leaned close and whispered, “I love your people.”
I whispered back, “Told you they was gon’ fuck wit’ you.”
???
The last bite of peach cobbler had barely hit my stomach before Granny was pushin’ her chair back wit’ both hands on the table.
“Well,” she said, lookin’ ‘round. “I didn’t cook all this food for y’all to just sit and let my kitchen look a mess.”
I chuckled under my breath.
“Knuck, Wayne, Buck, Antt, Milt, y’all go out back,” she waved toward the door. “Nyomi, baby. You, Keema, and Monae help me clear this table.”
I looked over at Nyomi and mouthedgood luck,tryna keep my laugh in.
She rolled her eyes but grinned, wipin’ her mouth wit’ her napkin. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Aww hell naw,” Antt said, already pushin’ his chair back. “She ain’t even blood. Why she gotta help?”
“Cause I said so! Get your ass out my kitchen!” Granny shot back.
I stood up, grabbed my fitted off the back of the chair, and clapped Wayne on the back. “C’mon, hoe. Let the ladies work.”
Out back, the air hit a lil’ cooler than I expected. Wayne was already breakin’ down some weed while I sparked up the one I already had rolled. I inhaled and held that shit for a moment before exhalin’.
“You know this where the real talk happen,” Uncle Buck said, exhalin’. “Ain’t shit more therapeutic than black men talkin’ outside wit’ smoke in the air and leftovers still warm.”
I smirked. “That was deep.”
“I’m sayin’ though.”
“Alright, poet,” Antt joked. “Where the liquor at?”
“On the table inside,” I reminded him. “You scared to go grab it ‘cause your ass gon’ get cussed out?”
“Bitch, I don’t wanna get up. I got a bad back.”
“From what?” Milt asked. “Layin’ on your ass all day?”
Wayne took the blunt I passed, but before he hit it, he looked at me and said, “Real shit though, she solid, bro. Nyomi. She move different. Ain’t none of us seen you move this way either.”
I stayed quiet for a second, just lettin’ the smoke swirl out my nose. I wasn’t good wit’ compliments, especially not onesthat pulled at shit I wasn’t used to showin’. “Yeah,” I finally said, noddin’. “She pressure.”
