INEED$KRILLA.

the air in gary, indiana, hummed with the thick, sweet scent of hickory smoke and sizzling ribs. it was juneteenth, and the jackson family had turned their sprawling backyard into a full-blown celebration of freedom. red, black, and green streamers fluttered from the trees like proud banners.

speakers blasted a mix of old-school soul, funk, and modern r&b like earth wind & fire to kendrick lamar. kids darted between folding tables loaded with macaroni and cheese, collard greens, potato salad, cornbread, and enough fried chicken to feed three generations. laughter rang out everywhere.

you stood near the dessert table with jermajesty’s arm comfortably around your waist, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your hip. as his girlfriend of several months, you’d been to a few family gatherings, but this was your first juneteenth with the full jackson crew. being a black woman who grew up celebrating the holiday with your own loud, loving southern family, you fit right in. the energy felt like home, amplified by music royalty.

jermajesty leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to your temple. “you good, babe? aunties already plotting to steal you for cobbler duty.”

you laughed, leaning into his solid frame. “i’m perfect. your family throws juneteenth like it’s the main event of the year.”

“that’s because it is,” he said, that signature jackson smile lighting up his face. his curls were combed back neatly, white tee hugging his chest, and he looked every bit the man who made your heart race daily. you wore something simple, blue jeans and a white top with you braids pulled up in a ponytail, anticipating a water balloon fight soon.

chaos kicked off almost immediately. at the grill, jermaine was flipping ribs with theatrical flair in his “kiss the cook… or else” apron.

“these ribs are seasoned with love itself!” he proclaimed. marlon snuck up, snatched a juicy piece, and bolted. jermaine gave chase with tongs raised like a sword. “aye , man! that’s my award-winning batch!” jackie nearly dropped the potato salad from laughing so hard, while randy egged them on: “run, marlon! he’s old and slow!”

the aunties: rebbie, la toya, and janet, ruled the dessert table like queens, including ajeandrea, who was exhausted and sat inside the house. rebbie defended her peach cobbler fiercely. la toya side-eyed it: “extra love or extra sugar? last year the kids were hyper till sunrise.”

janet slid you a generous slice of red velvet with a wink. “ignore them. you’re family now, judge fairly.” you took a bite and moaned dramatically. the aunties cheered, then turned on jermajesty. “look at him, all protective! we raised you better than to hover like that,” rebbie teased. la toya added, “she’s got good taste in dessert and men. don’t mess it up, nephew.”

the cousins were next-level hilarious. randy jr. and jaafar dragged you and jermajesty into a water balloon ambush. one balloon exploded across jermaine’s back mid-speech. he spun around, soaked and sputtering, “treachery on juneteenth! my own blood!” randy jr filmed the whole thing, cackling. someone must’ve heard randy’s mouth since he instantly got soaked by someone throwing a water balloon at him. “nigga, what that fuck.” marlon jr says turning to jaafar

“uncle jermaine’s baptism is going straight to the group chat.” jaafar changes the subject, running the other way as he high-fived you after you nailed a perfect throw that tagged marlon.

“she’s officially one of us!”

jermajesty pulled you close after the battle, both of you damp and grinning. “told you they’d love you. randy already texted me saying you’re ‘a keeper’ and i better not fumble.”

you kissed his cheek. “too late. i’m locked in.”

as the sun dipped lower, painting the sky in warm hues, the music shifted. the unmistakable funky bass of cameo’s “candy” hit the speakers.

the uncles and aunties transformed the grass into a dance floor. jermaine led with dramatic slides and spins, channeling every ounce of his stage legacy. marlon added wild hip pops that nearly took out a folding chair. jackie tried to stay smooth but kept bumping into randy, who yelled, “watch the shoes, man!” while cracking up. the aunties brought precision and sass, rebbie graceful, la toya full of attitude, janet hitting every beat perfectly.

even katherine clapped along from her shaded seat, calling out steps.

the cousins lost it on the sidelines. paris was in stitches recording, jaafar and randy jr. were bent over laughing as the older generation got down. “uncle jermaine’s spin move is lethal to himself!” randy jr. wheezed. when the chorus hit and everyone shouted “candy!”, jermajesty pulled you into the line. you moved together, his hands on your waist guiding you through the steps. he dipped you playfully during an improvised moment, making you squeal with laughter. “baby! this is a line dance, not a romance movie!”

“every dance with you is a romance movie, babe” he shot back, eyes sparkling as the family whooped. randy attempted to copy the dip and ended up in the grass. the cousins erupted, randy jr zooming in for the close-up, jaafar yelling, “he’s down! somebody get the man some ice!”

the line dance dissolved into joyful chaos, everyone pairing off or forming circles. jermajesty kept you close, stealing kisses between songs, his laughter vibrating against your back as he hugged you from behind. the aunties cooed obnoxiously. rebbie called out, “y’all are too cute, make sure those wedding bells ring soon!” la toya added, “we need more beautiful great-nieces and nephews running around here.”

janet just smiled knowingly while janet shushed them, but not before winking at you.

you and jerm eventually slipped away to a quiet bench by the pond as night settled in, fireflies twinkling like stars. sparklers lit up distant corners of the yard while faint music and laughter carried over. his hand rested on your thigh, warm and familiar.

“days like this remind me why i love my crazy family,” he said softly. “and having you here, sharing it… makes it even better. juneteenth hits different when you’re celebrating freedom with the person you want to build more freedom with.”

you turned, cupping his face. “i love you. your family, the food, the ridiculous dances, all of it. especially the way you look at me like i’m the best part of the day.”

he kissed you deeply, slow and full of promise, tasting of lemonade and marshmallows from earlier s’mores.

when you pulled back, foreheads touching, he smiled. “love you more, babe. next year we’re defending the rib crown together against uncle marlon. and maybe bringing our own little one to the water balloon fight someday.”

you laughed, heart full. “one step at a time, but i’m not mad at the vision.”

the night wound down with full bellies, sticky fingers, and endless hugs. the aunties packed you leftovers “for the road,” the uncles clapped jermajesty on the back with approving nods, and the cousins demanded a group photo that included you right in the middle.