Page 12 of Autumn & Woods
As we turned down Big Mama’s block from the main road, the vibe hit different immediately. Cars lined both sides, kids rode bikes, and music was already bumping from somebody’s trunk. I pulled into the driveway, cut the engine, and took a deep breath.
Aunt Sherry flashed a wide grin as she climbed out, adjusting her sleeves. "Don’t get too comfortable. We gon’ need your tall ass to help hang the decorations."
As I was about to get out, my phone buzzed in my lap. I answered without checking. “Yo.”
“You pull up to Big Mama’s yet?” Ty spoke into the phone.
“Just parked.”
“I’m four minutes out,” he said, engine humming loudly in the background. “Had to make one more stop to pick up my lil’ baby right here.”
I smirked. “Shorty from last night?”
“Nahhh,” he said, dragging the word out like he was setting up a whole lie. “Just know I got a lil’ baddie ridin’ wit’ me. You gon’ see.”
I laughed low. “How long this one been around?”
“Long enough for her to catch a plate. That count, don’t it?”
“That’s your business.”
Ty cracked up. “Aye, don’t be actin’ brand new. You the only one allowed random situations now?”
I leaned back against the headrest, smiling to myself. I ended the call, slid the phone in my pocket, and finally reached for the handle, fingers gripping the cool metal.
“Quamaine Isaiah Thevlin, don’t have me yellin’ out this window like you can’t hear!” I turned toward the house. Ma was posted up in the kitchen window, head wrapped, gold bangles clinking as she leaned out with a wooden spoon in her hand like a mic. “Get them bags out the trunk and bring in that ice!”
I raised both hands in mock surrender, laughing. “Aight, Ma! Damn.”
She vanished from the window without a word. I shook my head, chuckling, then popped the trunk, grabbed the grocery bags and the ice, and made my way toward the house.
W ep u l l e du pto the Taj’s grandmother’s house, and I already knew it was about to be a whole scene. Cars lined both sides of the street as folding chairs were set up on porches. Badass kids ran wild with juice pouches in one hand and sticky candy in the other. On top of that, someone was blasting Frankie Beverly and Maze down the block as if it were required by law.
The house sat at the center of the neighborhood. Brick. Wide porch. A wreath with little gold leaves glued to it. The type of house you’d pull up to and immediately smell turkey, greens, and gossip.
“Damn,” Taj said, putting the car in park and turning the music down. “Look at all these damn people. Why everybody act like we ain’t got assigned holiday parkin’ spots?”
The kids were in the back, fighting over who would carry what.
“I get the macaroni!”
“No, I saidIwas gettin’ the macaroni!”
“AHT! Neither one of y’all carryin’ that precious mac. Grab them juice boxes and march that ass in the house,” Taj snapped. I cracked the door open, stepped out into the warm air, smoothed my dress down, and adjusted my gold hoops. Taj climbed out, walked to the back of the car, and popped the trunk. “Autumn, you good?”
“Yep,” I said, grabbing one of the foil pans and the store-bought sugar cookies we picked up earlier. “Who’s all coming again?”
She grinned. “Girl, my brother and some random he probably just met. Uncles, aunties, and of course my fine ass cousin I was tellin’ you about yesterday. Don’t be actin’ all bougie and miss your blessin’ thinkin’ ‘bout Mr. Toilet Man.”
I laughed. “Ain't nobody acting bougie.”
She burst out laughing. “Bitch, please!”
I just smirked and started toward the house. The door opened. We stepped into heat, voices, music, and the overwhelming smell of soul food made with real wrists. It was loud. It was love. It was a true Black Thanksgiving at its finest.
“Put the food down and come speak!” one of the aunties shouted from the living room.
“Not y’all forcin’ it,” Taj muttered as we set the foil pans on the crowded kitchen counter. I laughed nervously, glancingaround the kitchen, and let Taj grab my hand. She tugged me with her into the living room, crowded with family. “Alright, alright, don’t start,” she said, leading the way. “Everybody, this is my ol’ bestie from hair school. Autumn, this is everybody.”
