Terry looked up then, eyes narrowed, scanning first the bag, then the way they stood too close together, and finally, how Adair looked at Sabine like his whole world was wrapped around her.
“Mmmhmm. Go head, set it down and sit, both of y’all. You makin’ me nervous standing there over me and shit. You know ion trust niggas all up on me.”
Adair chuckled and sat on the edge of the couch. Before Sabine could take the cushion beside him, he pulled her into his lap with one smooth tug.
“Adair!” she whispered, squirming.
“You already here,” he murmured back, hand gripping her thigh and his Aunt Terry stared over the rim of her cup and nodded slowly.
“Knew it.”
Adair tilted his head. “Knew what?”
“That this would happen,” she said. “Ade was runnin’ that mouth and now y’all sittin’ on top of one another just confirmed whatI knew.”
Sabine laughed, but Terry kept her gaze on Adair.
“You better not fuck it up this time, Dair. Or I’ll beat yo’ ass myself. New knees and all.”
“I hear you.”
“No, I mean it. You broke that girl down once. You lucky she even let you kiss her again ole nasty ass nigga. Just like your nasty ass daddy.”
“Aunt Terry—” Sabine tried not to blush.
“Don’t Aunt Terry me,” she said, sitting up a little. “I been prayin’ for y’all since the day y’all split. Couldn’t even eat myfood right for a week when I heard. It messed up my whole digestive system. And you,” she pointed at Sabine, “you take your time. I know love still live in there somewhere, but don’t you let it drag you where you already crawled out of. You hear me, baby?”
Sabine nodded, quiet now.
“And Dair,” Terry said again, softer this time, “you get it right this time. Not perfect…just right.”
“I will,” Adair said, and Sabine felt the sincerity in his chest behind her.
Terry waved her hand. “Alright. Now gimme my wine.”
The door opened again, and the music came spilling into the living room. The unmistakable beginning had the whole backyard yelling,“It’s like candy!”
“Oh yeah, they gettin’ down now,” Terry said, propping her cup on her thigh. “Go on, open that door wider so I can hear it good!”
Soon, the house wasn’t quiet anymore. Cousins began trickling inside, bringing plates of fish and potato salad, laughing about old times and dragging Aunt Terry into photos. Somebody fixed her plate even though she swore she could do it herself now that the staples were out.
Sabine and Adair stayed seated on the couch, her legs across his lap, his hand resting on her knee, like it hadn’t been years since they last moved like this in public. It felt good. Comfortable.
Reeka came in dancing with a deviled egg between her fingers. “Aunt Terry tell them they gotta dance,” she called, pointing at them. “You can’t just rekindle and not two-step. It’s rules!”
Then, from the side of the room, someone cleared their throat. Adair turned and saw Geechie. Everyone’s eyes kept going between the two distant cousins.
There was a quiet between them that didn’t feel hostile, but it didn’t feel casual either. Just long and waiting. Sabine tensed slightly, but Adair placed a firm hand on her leg before standing.
“Let me talk to him,” he murmured, and she nodded. Geechie had a red cup in his hand and something sheepish in his stance.
“Look, man,” he said before Adair could speak when they stepped away from everyone. “I was outta pocket. At the party. I know I was. That ain’t how family supposed to act.”
“You crossed a line.” Adair kept his jaw tight.
“I was wrong. Point blank. I’m not gone press her again, ever. Not even in play. She ain’t for that and she definitely ain’t for me.” Geechie scratched the back of his neck. “I’m sorry.”
Adair studied him for a long second, then gave a slow nod. “Alright.”