“Better yet...tell him yourself next time. You can come by. He’ll like that.”
“Okay.” Parthenia’s eyes shined with surprise.
They stood. For a second, neither of them moved then Parthenia stepped forward and wrapped her arms around her. Sabine didn’t hesitate. She hugged her back. It wasn’t quick. It wasn’t awkward. It was the kind of hug that saidI’m sorry. I’m still here.
When they finally pulled apart, Sabine looked at her and said, “Don’t wait a year to do this again.”
“I won’t,” Parthenia said, eyes a little glassy. “I promise.”
Sabine nodded, adjusting her purse. “Text me when you get home.”
Parthenia smiled. “I will.”
They walked out together, no rush. No fixing everything in a day but for the first time in a long time, they left on the same side. At least it felt that way.
The house smelled like fried fish. Pam was the queen of catfish, and couldn’t a soul tell Sabine someone made it better. She stood just inside the doorway, clutching her keys in one hand and her phone in the other like she needed an excuse to leave quickly, even though she knew damn well she wasn’t going nowhere but home.
The second she stepped through the door, noise crashed into her from every direction—the TV loud as hell in the living room, somebody’s baby crying in the back, cousins crowding around dining room table yelling over spades like they were ready to fight behind it. She should’ve known everybody and they mama was gonna be in here.
It was Saturday. That’s how Pam’s house worked. You pulled up, and half the family justhappenedto already be there—on the porch, in the kitchen, out back watching the kids tear up thegrass. A Black-ass sanctuary. Full of love, full of noise, full of memories.
Sometimes, even when it was her week with Ade, he wanted to see his grandmother and they didn’t want him to ever feel like he could only be with her on his father’s time so usually when he asked, Sabine would take him, or Pam would be at her front door grabbingher baby.
Ade’s voice carried from the back, mixed in with his cousins’. The same backyard where they once popped a balloon and blue confetti flew everywhere. The day they found out he’d be a boy.
That memory hit hard. Made her throat tighten. She didn’t even knock. Pam had always told her she didn’t need to. Sabine stepped fully inside, letting the screen clap behind her.
“Auntie, Bine here!” one of her niece’s announced before giving Sabine a hug.
“Bine, that you?” Pam’s voice called from the kitchen.
“Just came to grab Ade,” she said, loud enough to be heard.
Pam appeared in the archway with a dish towel over her shoulder and a toothpick in her mouth, eyes warm but knowing. That old-school Black woman gaze that could see through everything you thought you hid. Her curly wig was slightly off-center, probably from cooking up a storm and running after Ade all day and her eyeliner was loud but somehow, it all looked perfect on her.
“You not ‘bout to just run off like that,” Pam said, already turning back toward the kitchen. “Come sit. He out back actin’ like he ain’t got no damn sense. They just put the slip-n-slide down. It’s nice enough.”
“I don’t wanna interrupt.”
“Bine, please don’t make me cuss ya out,” Pam waved her off. “Bring yo ass in this here kitchen!”
Sabine hesitated. She shouldn’t. She came to get her son and go but...this was Pam and the house felt like how it always had.Warm. Familiar. Her heart was heavy, and suddenly the idea of sitting down for just a minute didn’t feel so bad. She stepped into the kitchen, and just like that, Pam already had a plate in her hand—catfish, potato salad, green beans, and one of her famous homemade honey butter biscuits.
“I’m not that hungry,” Sabine lied through her teeth.
Pam gave her a look.
Sabine took the plate and sat down at the kitchen table, glancing around the room. There were still photos of her and Adair on the wall. Family pictures. Birthdays. A framed sonogram. She looked away before her eyes could land on too much. Pam eased into the seat across from her, sipping sweet tea.
“How are you my baby?”
Sabine chewed slow, then nodded. “I’m alright.”
Pam clicked her tongue. “I heard about what happened last night.”
“We got into it.” Sabine set her fork down, wiped her mouth, and let out a sigh. “Badly.”
“I heard…everybody did.”