"BURN IT ALL!"

September 7th, 1958

The afternoon sun poured through the classroom windows, making everything glow warm and golden. 

It was the last lesson of the day and Annie stood at the front of the room with a piece of chalk in her hand, trying her hardest to keep twenty-something restless children focused for just a few more minutes. 

It was Friday afternoon. The weekend was only moments away. Their little bodies were practically vibrating with excitement. Every few seconds somebody shifted in their seat.

Annie fought back a smile.

"Y'all can give me five more minutes," she said, tapping the chalk lightly against the board.

A few dramatic groans filled the room.

"Miss Annie," one little girl whined.

"Just a little longer."

And as she continued teaching, she noticed strange things were happening. The children kept exchanging secret little looks and whispers. A few of them kept reaching inside their desks and then quickly pulling their hands back out whenever she looked in their direction.

Her eyebrows pulled together in confusion because something was definitely going on. But before she could investigate, one of the students in the front row suddenly shot their hand into the air.

"Miss Annie!"

Annie stopped writing on the board, "Yes, baby?"

"We got a surprise for you!" The little girl bounced excitedly in her seat.

"A surprise?" she asked.

The child nodded so hard her braids bounced.

Annie looked around the room to see all the children were smiling at her. She was truly confused

"What kinda surprise?" she asked.

The children looked around at each other like they were making sure everyone was ready. Then all at once little hands dove into the openings of their desks. After grabbing what they were reaching for, they stood up. And the room exploded in noise as they all shouted happy birthday.

Annie gasped. Her hand flew to her chest so fast she almost dropped her chalk.

The children held up paper hearts. Some were cut perfectly, others looked like circles more than hearts. A few had glitter and crayon scribbles on. But every single one had something written on it.

"Oh my goodness..." Her voice cracked as she looked around, a little laugh coming out. Her eyes were starting to sting. 

Her heart was entirely too full as she took in every little face. This particualr first grade class had only been with her for a month, yet somehow these babies had warmed up to her quickly.

She knew who needed help tying their shoes, who hated number and reading, the ones who always forgot their materials. And apparently they knew her too.

"You surprised me alright," she admitted.

A little girl in the back practically vibrated with excitement, "You really was surprised?!"

"I was very surprised."

The entire room erupted into cheers.

Annie's eyes were soft and full of love as she said, "I love y'all so much."

At that statement it was like she opened the floodgates. The children jumped up from their spots and rushed her. Tiny arms wrapped around any place they could touch. Some of them squeezed so hard Annie nearly lost her balance.

Annie laughed helplessly while trying to hug all of them back.

The kids started screaming about how much they loved her, how they didn't want her to get old, and saying happy birthday over and over. 

In the middle of all the chaos, Lillian appeared in the doorway. Apparently, the noise from Annie's classroom had traveled down the hallway.

"Everything okay in here?" she asked.

Annie looked up from the sea of children attached to her. She was holding several of them while others continued waving their paper hearts in the air. 

"They just surprised me, that's all."

One little girl turned around proudly.

"We made Miss Annie happy birthday hearts."

Lillian looked on at the most adorable sight in front of her and smiled.

"Alright now, y'all don't squeeze her too hard. She gotta make it to her actual birthday tomorrow," she said finally. 

The children took that and started shouting about birthdays, cakes, presents, and ice cream. Lillian shook her head affectionately before stepping back into the hallway.

It took Annie a good while to get her classroom back under control. Every time she managed to get one child back in their seat, another one was popping up to give her one last hug or wave one of their paper hearts at her.

Eventually, after enough promises that she loved every single one of them and that she would absolutely remember their surprise forever, the children finally settled back into their desks.

The room buzzed with leftover excitement as Annie sat on the edge of her desk watching them pack up.

One of the kids stopped packing and turned to her with narrowed eyes, "Miss Annie?"

"Yes?"

"Does being twenty-six mean you're old?" the little boy tilted his head.

Several children gasped and a few looked at her concerned.

"Now why would you ask me something like that?" Annie bit her lip to keep herself from laughing.

"My mama say twenty-five is almost thirty and when you're thirty you get bad knees," the boy shrugged.

"Twenty-six ain't old," she managed to say.

The children seemed relieved.

"So you still young?"

Annie nodded, "Yes. Very young."

Thankfully, the final bell chose that exact moment to ring throughout the building. As they filed toward the door, many of them stopped beside her to give her a goodbye.

The room slowly emptied until the last child finally disappeared through the doorway.

Annie smiled softly before walking back toward her desk.

Usually she'd throw everything into a bag and grade it at home, but not today. Since tomorrow was her birthday, she had no intention of spending any part of the weekend hunched over papers. So, she settled into her chair and got to work.

The next hour passed and the school gradually emptied around her. When she finished, she stretched her arms above her head and groaned softly. She packed everything away, making sure to take extra care of the little paper hearts. 

After checking her classroom one last time, Annie switched off the lights and headed outside. The late afternoon air felt warm against her skin. She walked across the parking lot toward her car. The bright yelowl paint practically glowed in the sunlight.

She unlocked the door and loaded her things into the back seat. Then she slid in behind the steering wheel. A moment later she pulled out of the parking lot and headed home.

The entire ride home was a bit shorter than usual but it put Annie in an even better mood.

When she pulled onto her street, the late afternoon sun was beginning to soften into evening. The neighborhood was alive. Children were still playing outside, people sat on their front stoops, and music was playing from an open window. 

Annie eased her yellow car into her usual parking spot along the curb in front of the house. She gathered her purse, her grading bag, her lunch container, and her students' paper hearts before climbing out.

"Hey, Little Annie!"

She looked over and saw Mr. Jenkins and his wife sitting on their stoop across the street.

"Hey, Mr. Jenkins."

"How was work?"

"It was good."

"You ready for your birthday tomorrow?"

Annie smiled wide at the couple, "It seems like everybody's ready."

Mr. Jenkins laughed, " That's 'cause Annette been reminding people about it all week."

Annie rolled her eyes.

Mrs. Jenkins smiled.

"Happy birthday, baby."

"Thank you."

After another minute of chatting, Annie finally headed inside the house. She pushed the front door open, the familiar smell of food greeted her.

"Mama?" Annie called.

"In the kitchen."

Annie followed the sound of her grandmother's voice and sure enough, Mama Nette stood at the stove with an apron tied around her waist. Annie dropped her things on a nearby chair before leaning over and pressing a kiss against her grandmother's cheek.

"Hey, baby."

"Hey."

"How was work?" her grandmother patted 

Annie's face lit up.

"The kids did the cutest thing ever," She started digging through her bag. "They made me birthday paper hearts."

She pulled out several of them and spread them across the kitchen table.

Mama Nette turned from the stove long enough to look. A soft smile graced her face. The hearts were covered in drawings and messages.

"Well ain't that just sweet? This class must really love you."

Annie nodded her head as she sat down at the kitchen table. She kicked off one heel th the table and stretched her legs, "I guess they really do. They're really an interesting group. One of them asked me if turning twenty-six meant I was old."

Mama Nette let out a laugh that echoed through the kitchen, "What'd you tell 'em?"

"I told them twenty-six ain't old."

"'Cause it ain't. But it is grown."

"I guess," Annie hummed.

Despite turning twenty-six tomorrow, there were still moments where she felt seventeen or twelve…or seven. There were still times she wanted somebody else to make decisions for her. 

The conversation faded and the kitchen grew quiet for a few moments. The only sounds came from the food cooking and the occasional clink of utensils.

Annie leaned back in her chair while Mama Nette stirred a pot. Then, without turning around, she spoke.

"You been spending a lot of time with Elijah lately."

Annie already knew where this conversation was headed. Still, she answered casually.

"Well, we're together now. So…" She trailed off.

"Mhm."

"You know that."

"I know."

Annie eyed the back of her grandmother's head suspiciously, but Mama Nette kept cooking.

"You two together just about every day."

Now that they had finally gotten past their argument and officially started courting, it felt natural. If she wasn't at work, there was a good chance she was with Elijah. If she wasn't with Elijah, she was probably thinking about him. And she knew he was the same way.

Annie shrugged, "I just like seeing him. Is that hard to believe?"

"Mhm."

The hum was getting on Annie's nerves now.

Mama Nette stirred something again.

"You been spending a lot of time at his apartment too."

Annie narrowed her eyes. 

Her grandmother never brought up something unless she was headed somewhere with it. Over the past few weeks Annie had splent plenty of time there. She'd be there after work and on weekends. Some Saturdays she'd stay almost the entire day. They would watch television, cook together, talk, listen to records, read, and sometimes she'd fall asleep on his couch. But every single time, she'd always gone home and her grandmother knew that. Which meant she was fishing.

Annie sighed loudly, "For your information, we don't be doing anything."

"I ain't say y'all did."

"You was trying to."

"I wasn't trying to do nothing."

Mama Nette finally glanced over her shoulder with a tiny smile tugging at her lips.

"Well you saying it like I'm doing something."

"Are you?"

"You know I'm not!"

"Mhm," Mama Nette turned back toward the stove.

The sound only made Annie more irritated.

"I'm not doing this with you," Annie immediately started gathering her things. "I'm going upstairs."

Before her grandmother could say anything else, Annie grabbed her bag and headed toward the stairs. She could hear Mama Nette chuckling behind her as she climbed each step.

A grumble came out as she disappeared into her room and shut the door behind her.

The next morning, Annie was pulled from sleep by the sound of a gentle knock against her bedroom door.

She groaned softly and buried her face deeper into her pillow. For a few seconds she debated pretending she hadn't heard it, but then another knock came.

"Come in," she called sleepily.

The door opened slowly and Mama Nette stepped inside carrying a plate in one hand. She had a smile on her face and was humming as soon as she entered the room.

The familiar tune instantly wrapped around Annie. It was a song she'd heard her entire life and it always proved that she was loved.

Annie sat up slowly against her pillows as her grandmother approached the bed.

On the plate sat a large homemade cinnamon roll covered in icing with a single lit candle right in the center. The flame danced softly in the morning light.

Mama Nette sat carefully on the edge of the bed and finished the last few lines of the song.

"Happy birthday, baby."

"Thank you."

Mama Nette held the plate toward her.

"Make a wish."

Annie looked down at the candle.

Somehow she was twenty-six now. It felt strange.

She remembered being a little girl wishing she could hurry up and become grown. Now she was grown. She had a job she loved, friends who loved her, and a man that she was actually falling in love with. Her life wasn't perfect, but it was hers.

Annie closed her eyes and made her wish. Then she leaned forward and blew the candle out. The tiny flame disappeared and Mama smiled at her.

Her grandmother set the plate on the bedside table before standing. Then a mischievous smile appeared on her face and she folded her arms.

"I got a surprise downstairs."

"What kind?"

"If I tell you it ain't a surprise," Her grandmother laughed. "So get decent and take your time."

Mama Nette headed toward the door and disappeared down the hall.

The second the door closed Annie reached for the cinnamon roll. The icing was still warm and that first bite made her groan. No bakery had ever made one that tasted better.

She ate it quickly while trying to guess what the surprise could possibly be. When she finished, her curiosityy was eating her alive. She threw on her robe, slipped her feet into house shoes, and hurried out of her room. The smell of breakfast drifted up from downstairs.

Annie gripped the banister and quickly descended the stairs. She followed the faint sounds coming from the dining room.

The second she stepped through the doorway she stopped. Elijah was in the middle of the dining room holding a huge bouquet of flowers in one arm and a beautifully wrapped box in the other. He looked up at the exact moment she entered.

Annie let out the loudest squeal of excitement and before he could even react she was moving across the floor. He had to hold the flowers out so they wouldn't get crushed as she practically launched herself at him.

"Good morning to you too, Bunny."

She wrapped both arms around his neck and squeezed him tightly. So tightly he had to adjust the gifts in his hands.

"You're here! You weren't supposed to be here yet!"

"I know."

Annie hugged him even tighter. Her excitement was impossible to contain.

"I thought I wasn't seeing you until later."

Elijah finally shifted the flowers enough to wrap one arm around her waist. His hand settled against her back.

"There was no way I was lettin' your birthday start without seeing you."

Annie's smile grew. Her heart felt so full she thought she might float away.

Elijah looked at her. Despite how she looked with her robe, still rolled hair, and a just woke up face, he thought she looked absolutely beautiful. He pressed a gentle kiss against her cheek before lowering his mouth close to her ear.

"Happy birthday, Bunny." His voice was low, warm, and just for her.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Annie loosened her grip around Elijah's neck and stepped back. She really took a look at the flowers in his hand. The giant bouquet was full of flowers in warm shades of cream, pink, and yellow.

"They're beautiful."

"Even more than you."

Annie sucked her teeth and lightly pushed his arm.

Elijah set the bouquet carefully in the center of the dining room table before placing the gift box directly in front of Annie. Her eyes dropped to it.

"Open it."

Annie looked up, "Right now?"

"You think I wrapped it up for tomorrow?" Elijah raised an eyebrow.

"Okay," she laughed.

Sliding into one of the dining room chairs, Annie carefully pulled the box closer. She untied the ribbon and lifted the lid. Inside there were two smaller boxes.

Elijah stood beside her chair with one hand resting against the back of it while the other settled on the edge of the table. He watched her with the kind of attention that made her feel like she was the only person in the room.

Annie reached for the smaller box and carefully opened it. Nestled against the soft velvet fabric was a beautiful pearl necklace. These weren't imitation pearls of costume jewelry, this was the real thing. The creamy white pearls glowed softly in the morning sunlight coming through the dining room windows.

Elijah watched Annie's face as she lifted the necklace up. The wonder in her eyes made the money spent well worth it.

She gently touched it with her fingertips then slowly looked up at him.

"You really bought this for me?"

"Bunny, who else would I buy it for?"

She shook her head in disbelief and looked back down at the necklace. It was far too beautiful and probably far too expensive. She placed the necklace back into the box before setting it down and reaching for the second one.

The second gift was a gorgeous pair of red heels. The color was rich and the leather was smooth. The heel wasn't too high, but it was just high enough.

She turned them around in her hands to admire every angle. They were exactly the kind of shoes she'd stop and admire in a store window but would never actually buy for herself.

Annie looked between the necklace and the shoes then back at him.

"You spent way too much money on me."

"It's your birthday and you're worth it," Elijah shrugged. "Do you like them?"

The warmth in her eyes answered before she could. Annie instantly nodded.

"I love them. Thank you," her voice came out way softer than she intended.

"You're welcome, Bunny."

He leaned down and his lips brushed against hers in a soft, sweet kiss. It made her smile before they even pulled away from each other.

When he did pull back, Annie frowned up at him.

"What?" he looked at her with slightly suspicious eyes.

"That's it? That's the only kiss I get on my birthday?"

His eyebrows rose up as he apologized, "I'm sorry. You want another one."

She nodded very seriously, "I do."

Elija leaned down again, but this kiss lasted a little longer than the last. The kiss still being very surface level, not wanting to go too far in the presence of her grandmother. It was more like a drawn out peck than anything.

When they pulled back for the second time, Annie smiled wide. Then, Elijah pulled out the chair beside Annie and sat down. Mama Nette came in from the kitchen carrying plates, the smell alone made Annie's stomach growl. That cinnamon roll had done little to help her hunger.

The plates were stacked with bacon, eggs, biscuits, grits, and fruit. It was more than enough food to feed three people. Elijah even helped to bring some of the plates into the dining room. Together they set everything on the table, then sat down.

For a while they simply ate with easy conversation flowing every now and then. Mama Nette would ask Elijah about work or Elijah asked Annie about the school. Mama Nette caught them up on the latest news she got from her older friends from all over the block.

After breakfast finally came to an end, Annie gathered up everyone's plates before either of them could stop her.

"Birthday girl ain't supposed to be cleaning," Elijah told her as she stacked dishes in her arms.

"And birthday girl don't want dishes sitting around all morning," Annie shot back.

Mama Nette waved her hand, "Let her do it. She hardheaded."

Annie rolled her eyes but couldn't stop grinning as she disappeared into the kitchen. A few minutes later she returned to the dining room with her hands freshly washed. The smile on her face faded away when she noticed Elijah standing up looking as if he was going to leave.

His jacket was in his hand and he looked suspiciously like a man preparing to leave.

"What you doing?"

Elijah looked over at her, "Going to work."

"What?" Annie stopped walking.

"I gotta go in for a little while."

Her face scrunched up and a pout appeared so quick, "But it's my birthday."

The words came out so dramatic that even Mama Nette rolled her eyes from her chair.

Elijah opened his mouth then immediately closed it because Annie's pout somehow got worse.

"Bunny."

"It's my birthday and you're leavin'." She walked across the room and grabbed his hand.

"I'm coming back. I'm only going in for a few hours. A car been givin' one of the boys trouble for some days now."

"So?" Annie let out a huff and narrowed her eyes.

"So I told him I'd help."

"But it's my birthday."

"You done said that four times," Elijah shook his head at how dramatic his woman could be.

He truly loved this woman. The longer they spent together the more she showed him parts of herself she kept hidden ffrom other people. Most people saw the sweet, patient, kind side of Annie. And she was still all of that, but he also got to see the stubborn, dramatic, and spoiled side of Annie. And he loved it.

"'Cause you keep ignorin' the important part of it being my birthday."

He stepped closer and gently squeezed her hand.

"I'll be back before your party."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

Annie looked unconvinced.

"Bunny."

She sighed dramatically, "Fine. But I'm still upset."

"I'll make it up to you."

"You better."

He leaned down and kissed her forehead, then her cheek, then finally her lips. The kisses were so gentle they made Annie forget what she was complaining about in the first place.

Finally, Annie walked him to the front door.

When they got outside, she grabbed his arm.

"You're really leaving me now?"

"Annette."

The use of her first name and not her nickname made Annie concede to him.

"This wasn't long enough."

"I'll see you later, baby. Calm down, okay?"

She sighed and let go of his arm. They stared at each other long enough for Annie to nod and step back.

Annie stood on the stoop and watched as he got in his car and drove away. Only then did she head back inside.

The moment she stepped into the living room Mama Nette looked up from her position on the couch.

"I'm bout sick of you and that man. Glad he had to leave for work or else y'all woulda been annoying me all damn day."

Annie frowned, "Mama, you always being mean to me. It's my birthday, leave us alone."

"Girl gone on."

Annie shook her head and headed upstairs. Once inside her room, she officially started getting ready for the day.

If she was being honest, she wasn't planning on sitting in the house until her party.

She opened her closet and looked through her dresses. After several minutes she finally settled on her favorite yellow one. The bright sunny color made her smile every time she wore it. The dress cinched perfectly at her waist before flaring out around her knees when she moved. The fitted bodice highlighted her lush curves beautifully, especially her chest, while the skirt gave her room to move comfortably.

It was feminine, bright, and fun. Which was exactly how she wanted to feel for the day.

She carefully did her hair, applied a little makeup, and added some perfume. Then stepped back from her mirror only to see that she was practically glowing.

Feeling pleased with herself, she headed downstairs to the phone. She wasn't spending the few hours she had before the party alone, especially after Elijah left her. So she called Monica first.

"Monica?"

"Hey birthday girl."

"Are you dressed?"

"Yes, but for what? The party's not till later."

"Not really thinkin' too mucha bout the party right now. I want to be out, so come get me."

"Fine, but you better be ready since you callin' tryin' to make all kinds of demands and things."

"I'm ready. You just come on."

After hanging up with Monica she called the rest of the group to inform them of her spontaneous plans for the day.

Since she had a little time before they arrived, she spent it putting on jewelry and fixing the tiny details.

Every few minutes she checked the clock, then the window, then the clock again. Eventually she heard a car horn outside and she nearly tripped herself by quickly stepping downstairs. She hurried out the front door to the familiar blue car that sat parked along the curb.

Monica was behind the wheel, Michelle sat in the passenger seat, and Lillian was in the back.

The second they spotted Annie coming down the walkway, all three women started hollering. Lillian even whistled out of the window.

Monica leaned halfway out the window.

"Oh you cute girl."

"Real cute," Michelle nodded approvingly.

Annie climbed into the car, and the second the door shut, Monica pulled away from the curb taking them to the direction of Annie's favorite dress shop.

They drove down to Pennsylvania Avenue. The city moving in streaks of color through the car windows as Monica navigated through traffic. The storefronts were getting more clustered and lively.

Eventually, Monica found a parking spot near a row of boutiques and eased the car to a stop. The dress shop was nestled between a salon and a small jewelry store. The windows of the shop were wide, displaying mannequins dressed in everything from elegant evening wear to casual day to day.

All four ladies got out at once, the sound of the car doors slamming blanding into the busy city noise around them. Annie smoothed her dress down as they walked up to the entrance.

The bell above the door chimed when they stepped inside. Cool air hit them, along with the faint smell of fabric, perfume, and polished wood floors.

Instantly, they all split up, taking different areas of the store to cover plenty of ground. Annie slowly wandered between racks of dresses, fingers brushing fabric as she passed. She was just lifting a pale blue dress off the rack when Monica’s voice cut through the aisle.

“So Annie, what you doing after the party?”

Annie’s eyebrows pulled together. “The party probably gone be going on late. I was just gonna go up to sleep after.”

Monica hummed like she didn’t believe her. She continued flipping through dresses without looking up.

“So you really don't have nothing planned,” she asked.

“No. Should I?” Annie frowned.

Monica finally glanced up for half a second, then went right back to the rack.

“I figured you and Elijah was gonna want some alone time.”

Annie blinked, “We saw each other this morning.”

“I’m already tired of talking in circles. You giving it up tonight?” Monica made a small sound, unimpressed.

Annie let out a breath that sounded half disbelief, half embarrassment. She turned away, grabbing another dress off the rack like she suddenly needed something to do with her hands.

“No, I'm still not doing any of that tonight,” she said finally.

Monica’s head tilted slightly. “And why not?”

"Because I don't want to," Annie's grip tightened on the hanger.

“But y'all have been together for a long while now,” Lillian slid in.

Annie shook her head quickly, “It ain't been that long. It's barely been a month since we made it official.”

“Y'all leave her alone. If she says she ain't ready, she ain't ready,” Michelle stepped in calmly.

Monica exhaled through her nose like she was holding back something more blunt. “I’m just saying, Annie been saying she not ready for years.”

“Some people waiting ain't a crime. I waited till I married Tommy,” Michelle cut her eyes at Monica.

“That’s different. You and Tommy been together since y'all were sixteen and got married a few years later. Annie over here almost thirty and still ain’t even rub one out go—”

“Monica,” Annie said sharply. She looked around, lowering her voice even more, “Can we stop talking about this?”

Monica held her gaze for a second, then nodded once, “Alright, I’ll let it go.”

Annie exhaled. “Thank you.”

“Mhm.”

The tension eased just slightly as they all went back to browsing, the moment settling into awkward quiet. Annie tried to focus on the dresses again, brushing through fabrics with slower hands now, her earlier excitement dulled by the conversation.

Across the aisle, Michelle’s voice suddenly lifted.

“Look at what I found.”

All three turned to look at her to see Michelle was holding up a dress from the rack, stepping back so they could see it better.

The dress was gorgeous. It was a rich deep red that caught the eye without being overly flashy. The sleeves stopped just above the elbows, while the skirt flowed outward in a soft swing shape that would move beautifully whenever she walked or danced. The hem hit a few inches above the knee.

But what really caught Annie's attention was the neckline. The curve dipped lower than anything she normally wore. It was just enough to highlight her chest and collarbone.

Michelle grinned at her, "What you think?"

"I think I know exactly what to wear with this," Annie reached out and touched the fabric.

A short while later the dress was purchased, neatly folded into a large shopping bag, and the four women were heading back toward Monica's car. Once everyone climbed inside, Monica started the engine.

Everyone had reached the point where shopping had turned into hunger.

They pulled away from the curb and headed down the street. They'd only been driving a few minutes when Annie spotted realized they were heading down the same street that her uncle's garage was on.

"Can we stop up here for a while?"

All the ladies followed her finger that was pointing up the street to Ray's garage. When they realized where and why she was pointing, Lillian groaned.

"You're gonna see that man in a few hours."

"And it's my birthday," Annie said.

Lillian shook her head, but eventually the women gave in. Mostly because they knew Annie would be insufferable otherwise.

Monica turned into the lot and parked near the front of the garage. Annie got out of the car and was instantly greeted with the sounds of tools clanking and men talking. The smell of oil and grease was prominent in the air. The large doors were wide open, and a few cars filled the different bays.

When she actually stepped inside and people spotted her they greeted her happily. A whistle from somewhere deeper in the garage sounded out as they all wished her happy birthday.

She kept going until she spotted Ray near one of the lifts.

"Uncle Ray!"

Ray looked up and the second he saw her his face lit up, "Well look at my birthday girl."

Annie smiled and walked over. Once she reached him, Ray wrapped her up in a tight hug.

"Happy birthday, Sweet Pea."

"Thank you, Uncle Ray."

When he pulled away he looked her over and his eyebrows rose.

"You look beautiful today."

"Thank you," Then she tilted her head. "You still coming tonight?"

"Of course I'm coming," Ray looked offended.

"I was just asking," she laughed

"I'm getting there right when it starts. I gotta make sure the shop gets closed up right. Clara should already be over at the house helping you grandmother and them set everything up."

Annie nodded as her eyes drifted around without meaning too. After several seconds Annie casually asked, "So...where's Elijah?"

Ray's face went stoic at the mention of his employee, "He in the back taking a break.

She tried to keep her face neutral, "Okay, I'll go talk to him for a little while. I'll see you later."

"Alright, Sweet Pea."

She turned and headed toward the back of the garage where the small break room was tucked away behind the amin work area. The further she walked, the quieter it became. She reached the doorway then carefully peeked inside.

Elijah was sitting at a small table against the wall, leaning back in his chair while eating a sandwich and drinking from a bottle of soda. His work shirt sleeves were rolled up to his forearms and there were faint grease stains across his shirt from the day. He looked tired from working since leaving her house earlier that morning.

He looked up to see her standing in the doorway. His entire face changed and his eyebrows shot up.

"Bunny?"

"Hi."

For a moment he just stared at her because he genuinely hadn't expected to see her until later that night. A slight slow smile spread across his face.

"Now what you doin' here?" He set his sandwich down and wiped his hands with a rag before holding one hand out toward her. "C'mere."

Annie didn't need to be told twice. She walked across the room and slipped her hand into his. His fingers immediately closed around hers.

"I thought you would be out having some birthday fun before your party."

"I am."

"Mm," He squeezed her hand. "Then why you down here botherin' hardworking people?"

Annie laughed.

"Me and the girls were just passing by. They're out there waitin' in the car."

Elijah's eyes slowly traveled over her, lingering on the way the dress perfectly cinched her waist before flowing over the curve of her hips. The skirt of it flared out around her knees, and his gaze found its way back to her face.

"You look absolutely gorgeous."

"Thank you."

Elijah kept holding her hand. Neither one seemed particularly interested in letting go. And for a few moments they simply looked at each other in a comfortable silence.

Then Annie glanced down to the chair, and more specifically Elijah's lap. Her eyes flicked back up to him then down again.

Elijah followed her gaze and quickly understood what she wanting.

Annie smoothed her hands over the front of her dress almost like she was prepapring herself to sit.

"Hold on. I don't want to ruin your pretty birthday dress."

Before she could argue, he leaned over and grabbed an old clean towel from the table beside him. He unfolded and spread it across his lap.

"Alright, come on."

Annie's smile brightened.

It was such a little thing, but it was exactly the kind of thing Elijah always did. He was always trying to take care of her even in situations where she didn't think it mattered.

She smoothed her dress one more time before easing down on his lap.

Elijah adjusted himself to make sure she was comfortable. His arm hovered behind her to keep her steady while trying not to touch her.

But Annie noticed and she didn't quite like it.

"You know you can touch me, right?"

"Can't. My hands too dirty."

Annie rolled her eyes and settled against him anyway.

"What were y'all doin' on this side of town anyway?" He finally asked.

"We were goin' shopping."

"Y'all always shoppin'. What you was lookin' for?"

"The dress for my party."

"You ain't wearing this one?" His eyebrows lifted.

"This ain't no party dress, Elijah."

"Could've fooled me."

"Well it ain't"

He hummed.

His eyes slowly moved over her for the third time. He was taking her all in, from the weight of her body in his lap to the way her chest rose and fell with each breath. Elijah slightly shifted his legs as he tried to think about anything other than what it would feel like to have her sit on him in other ways.

Annie felt herself getting warm from his stare.

"Stop looking at me like that."

He cleared his throat as he looked away.

"So what dress you get?"

"A pretty red one that I can wear with my new birthday gifts."

Annie reached over and unconciously straightened the collar of his work shirt.

Elijah watched her do it. His heart doing funny flips in his chest.

"I can't wait to see it."

Annie felt her cheeks warm as butterflies exploded in her stomach. After another few minutes she glanced toward the door.

"I should probably go. My friends are waitin' for me."

Elijah sighed.

"Elijah."

"Bunny."

Eventually she stood and he stood right after her. They walked back through the garage together with Elijah staying close behind her.

The closer they got to the front, her smile grew. When they reached Monica's car, Annie felt refreshed and happy. She was practically glowing.

Elijah opened the car door for her. Annie smiled up at him before climbing inside.

The other three women looked at him with smirks on their faces.

"Hey Elijah," they practically called at the same time.

"Afternoon ladies," He looked back at Annie. "I'll see you tonight."

She nodded.

Then Elijah leaned into the car, only planning to give her one quick kiss as a goodbye. heir lips met softly, but when he started pulling away, Annie grabbed his shirt. She leaned forward and kissed him again, holding it a little longer this time.

Elijah let out the tiniest chuckle against her lips before returning the kiss. Annie looked entirely too pleased with herself when they separated.

"See you tonight, Bunny," Elijah shook his head, then shut he door.

Monica cranked the engine and the second the car started moving she looked at Annie in the mirror, "Ain't ready yet my ass."

After leaving the garage, the four women went and got lunch. They spent nearly two hours sitting in a little restaurant laughing and talking. Once they were finished eating, they headed back to Annie's neighborhood for the party.

People were moving around everywhere when they pulled up in front of the house. Her uncle Marcus was carrying a table with Christian helping him. Marcus's girlfriend was arranging decorations on one of the tables. People moved in and out of the house carrying things.

Ever since she was a little girl every year was the same. Her birthday had always been some type of celebration. Sometimes it would only be family, sometimes, family and friends, and even a few times, like this year, the whole neighborhood would come together.

The second Annie climbed out of the car, she heard the calls from several people.

"The birthday girl finally decided to come help?"

Annie laughed as she moved to help someone with a box of things.

For the next couple of hours she worked right alongside everybody else, helping to put things together. She carried things back and forth until her feet started hurting. Eventually her grandmother sent her on to get ready for the night.

She spent time getting ready. She first ran herself a bath, the warm water helped soothe her aching feet after she had been running around all afternoon and morning. Afterward, she dried off and got dressed.

The red dress fit her perfectly. It hugged her waist before flaring outward. The color made her skin glow.

Once she finished getting dressed she proceeded to do her makeup lightly. Then she touched up her hair, making sure her curls fell just right. She put on her new pearl necklace and the matching earrings. Then she slipped into the newly gifted red heels.

She looked absolutely radiant.

The party had just started, so she could hear the sound of music drifted through her bedroom window.

As she headed down the stairs she found Mama Nette standing in the hallway waiting.

The older woman turned and looked her up and down. She put her hands on her hips and shook her head.

"Now look at you little Miss hot thing."

Annie chuckled and wrapped her arms around the older woman. Her grandmother hugged her back tightly. They pulled back and headed for the front door, where the music was louder.

When Annie stepped outside, the street exploded with dozens of cheers and voices screaming happy birthday. The entire street was packed from corner to corner with family, friends, neighbors, church members, and even people she didn't quite know that well.

Annie was just smiling at all of the praise. She waved, thanking everyone as she started down the stoop stairs.

And waiting at he bottom of the stairs was her man. His hand extended out to her, eyes locked on her. Annie bit her lip to hold back the even larger smile that was threatening to take over her face.

"Thank you, baby."

She placed her hand in his and he helped her down, making sure her heels didn't catch on anything. He held on even as her feet touched the sidewalk.

His eyes traveled over the pearls, the dress, the heels, then back to her face.

"Good Lord woman. You are the most beautiful woman I ever seen in my life."

Her face softened.

"You like it?"

"Woman don't you ever ask me nothing like that," he genuinely looked offended.

Before she could respond, Elijah leaned in and their lips met. When they pulled back from each other, Annie squeezed his hand.

"I gotta go speak to people."

He nodded so she started to walk away, but he followed.

Annie spent half an hour making her way through the crowd. Every few feet somebody stopped her to talk. When she was finished with one conversation, someone else wanted to start another.

The entire time Elijah stayed close by with one hand tucked into his pocket while the other occasionally rested against the small of her back whenever things got a little too crowded.

Annie introduced him to so many people she couldn't even keep track. Each introduction did something to Elijah. They made his chest puff up in pride. Even though his face didn't show it, his body language proved that he loved every part of it.

At one point they stopped by a group from church and the ladies were fussing over Annie's dress. Then they started fussing over Elijah and the two of them. They started talking about how they hadn't seen much of the two in the last few weeks. Elijah let Annie do most of the talking, not wanting to say the wrong thing to the older women. He never cared about what the peopl of the church said when it concerned him and Annie, but Annie always had the right words to settle anything that did come up.

Just like how she managed to smoothly change the topic when one of the women brough up marriage and children. The women had no boundaries. Eventually they escaped before the ladies could get any more ideas.

As they went back to wandering through the crowd, Annie spotted her grandmother sitting in a shaded area underneath a big tree. Several older men and women from the neighborhood sat around her in chairs.

Elijah followed her toward the table. As they approached the area, Mama Nette calmed her laughing and waved them closer.

"Good, y'all made y'all way over here. Come here Annie."

That tone made Annie instantly suspicious.

The older woman reached beside her chair and grabbed a cup. It was filled a little over halfway with a clear liquid. And by the way the smell hit her, Annie knew wha it was.

"Mama, I don't want that." Annie's face scrunched up.

"You better take this cup 'cause I ain't raise you to be no pussy cat."

Annie reluctantly accepted the cup and with the ligquid being so close the smell got even stronger. Her head jerked back as the scent practically smacked her in the face.

"It stinks."

The old folks laughed hard.

"Well, it ain't supposed to smell pretty. That's how you know it's that good shine," The older woman turned toward Elijah. "You make sure she drinks all that."

Elijah looked down at the cup then back at Annie. His eyebrows slowly lifted as he realized how strong it probably was. At that moment, he understood Annie's reaction.

Mama Nette lifted her own cup.

"You want some?" Mama Nette lifted her cup.

Elijah shook his head, "No ma'am."

"You sure?"

"Yes ma'am."

The entire table laughed at the look on his face. He looked like a man that wanted no parts of whatever she had given Annie.

Annie took the tiniest sip imaginable, and her entire face twisted up at the taste. She stuck her tongue out in disgust. She looked absolutely horrified.

"How y'all even drinking this mess?"

Mama Nette waved her hand.

"How 'bout you just keep on drinking."

Annie stared at her grandmother for a bit, then turned to Elijah. She grabbed his arm and pulled him away knowing that if they stayed any longer she would be two cups deep.

The party went on as the sun disappeared, leaving the street lit only by porch lights, strings of hanging bulbs, and the occasional headlights from cars parked along the curb.

Any children that were there had been rounded up and sent home. Now it was just the adults. People were dancing and laughing joyfully in the middle of the street.

At some point her friends had managed to corner her near the food tables during one of the moments where her and Elijah were separated. Their conversation quickly turned into a drinking competition. They forced her to finish the cup of mooshine, and then gave another cup of something else.

And now, hours later, Annie was definitely feeling it. Her body was warm and everything seemed funnier than normal. She felt absolutely wonderful.

Elijah noticed this change in her a while ago and hadn't left her side. One of his hands remained firmly planted against the middle of her back as they moved through the crowd. He wanted to make sure she was steady in those pretty new heels of hers.

Annie took a sip from another cup of liquor and Elijah looked over at her.

"Bunny."

She looked at him so innocently, "Hm?"

"You need to slow down."

"What for? I'm fine."

"I'm serious. That stuff's strong," Elijah didn't look too convinced.

"I promise that I'm alright."

But before he could say anything else, the song ended and rolled over into the next one. The crowd cheered as the singer started performing My Babe by Little Walter.

Annie's face lit up and before Elijah knew what was happening, she grabbed his hand and was pulling him toward the middle of the street.

"Bunny—"

"I wanna dance, Elijah."

The crowd parted enough to let them through. Annie stopped them right in the middle of the moving crowd. She wrapped her arms around Elijah's neck pulling him close to her.

The movement caught Elijah slightly off guard. He knew she'd had a good amount to drink but he didn't think she'd had enough to make her this loose. So instead of wrapping his arms around her, he hesitated. And of course Annie noticed.

Her eyes narrowed as she grabbed both of his hands and pulled back from him.

"You don't wanna dance with me?"

The confusion in her voice made Elijah's eyebrows rise.

"I ain't say that," He genuinely looked surprised. "I wanna do whatever you wanna do."

"Then why ain't you touchin' me?" She tilted her head. "You scared or somethin'?"

"Naw, I ain't scared," Elijah grumbled.

"Then what is it?"

"Tonight just a little different is all," Elijah glanced down at the cup in her hand then back up at her. "You been drinkin' a lot and you not actin' like yourself."

Annie stared at him for a second, then lifted her cup in the air for emphasis, "All 'cause of this?"

Elijah looked at her and nodded.

Without warning she tipped her head back and finished the rest. She made a face as the good bit of the liquid that was left burned on it's way down. She handed the now empty cup off to a random man that was walking past.

Annie turned back to Elijah with her arms out, "See, no more drink. I'm just fine."

Then she stepped forward and reached for his hands. She guided them to her waist, and pressed them firmly against her. She moved close until there was no space left between them. She smiled triumphantly at their position.

The singer's voice drifted through the air and the crowd moved around them. People were dancing smoothly to the music. But all Elijah saw was her. Happiness was written all over her face and stamped into her body.

He finally relaxed and wrapped his arms around her properly. One hand settled against the middle of her back and the other rested at her waist. A slight smile graced his face as they started to sway to the beat of the song.

The music rolled from one song to the next as they stayed in each other's embrace. And for a while Annie had been dancing and singing along normally to the songs. She laughed whenever Elijah spun her around, waved at people passing by, and stopped every now and then to hug somebody who wanted to tell her happy birthday. But as the night wore on, Elijah could see the moonshine catching up to her.

Her movements became slower, her words became fewer, and every time Elijah looked into her eyes they were glassier than before. She was more affectionate and clingy. Whenever they danced she seemed determined to stay as close to him as possible. Every time he tried to give her some space she'd somehow end up right back against him.

She would giggle at things that weren't particularly funny. Then she started staring at him for long stretches of time.

Elijah rubbed his hand up and down her back, "Bunny?"

"Hm?" she had the happiest little smile on her face.

"You wanna sit down for a while?"

Annie blinked at him clearly trying to process the question.

"What?"

"I asked if you wanna sit down for a little?"

She tilted her head, "...Maybe."

Before he could convince her to take a break, a familiar voice called out. Elijah turned to see Michelle, Tommy, and Lillian approaching them. Michelle had two small plastic cups in her hand.

"We about to take some shots. You want one?"

Annie nodded immediately. Her head going a little too enthusiastically, "Mmhm."

Elijah's eyes narrowed as he watched the exchange. The look on his face practically screamed 'hell no'. Before Annie could grab it, Elijah reached over took the cup himself.

"She don't need anymore."

Annie frowned.

"I can drink it."

"Bunny."

"I can."

Tommy shook his head as he watched Annie sway where she stood.

Annie reached around Elijah and managed to grab the cup from his hands. And to her surprise no one stopped her.

Elijah was still eyeing her, "I don't think you should drink anymore, tonight."

"I think I should."

The stubbornness in her voice sounded exactly like sober Annie. The difference was sober Annie usually stood upright while arguing. Drunk Annie was currently leaning halfway into him.

Elijah sighed.

Michelle handed another cup to Lillian and the women gathered together. All three of them lifted their cups. They cheersed as they clinked their cups together. Then they drank them. Annie squeezed her eyes shut at the taste.

Elijah rubbed a hand down his face. At least she hadn't gotten another full cup.

A few seconds later Tommy checked his watch, then wrapped an arm around Michelle's shoulders.

"We finna head out."

Michelle nodded.

Elijah looked over and nodded his head at Lillian, "How they getting home?"

"CJ driving her and Monica in Monica's car."

Elijah nodded, "Alright."

Everybody said their goodbyes and last happy birthdays. Then they headed toward their cars.

The party continued on around them. Someone had started another card game near one of the tables. A group of older women were singing loudly from their folding chairs.

But Annie was officially beyond drunk now. And that was emphasized by the way she was standing there staring directly at his face for no reason.

"Bunny, why you looking at me like that?"

"You just so pretty," Annie smiled dreamily. "You got real pretty eyes."

"See that's enough we sitting down," she didn't argue when he grabbed her hand which worried him just a bit because Annie always argued. Instead she just smiled and followed him willingly while he guided her toward the outer edges of the party.

Elijah led them back over to the large tree that her grandmother was sitting under. He helped her down into an empty chair next to the older woman.

The party was starting to thin out considerably. A few people were still dancing, sitting around, talking, and playing cards, but most of the people were gone for the night.

Annie practically melted into Elijah the second she sat down. Her head leaned against his side and one of her hands gripped tightly onto the fabric of his shirt. Elijah put an arm around her shoulders to steady her. Annie hummed happily.

Mama Nette watched the pair over the rim of her cup. She shook her head at how drunk the younger woman was.

"It'd probably be best if she head on upstairs," she stated after taking a sip from her cup.

Elijah looked down at Annie to see she was struggling to stay awake. Every few seconds she would blink slower and slower. Then she'd catch herself. He gently pushed some fallen hair back from her face.

"Bunny, I'm gonna take you upstairs so you can get in bed."

Annie stared at him.

"Okay."

The response came so easily Elijah knew she was exhausted. She let him help her up., and he steadied her when she wobbled on her feet.

She giggled at herself just then, "I almost fell."

"I see."

He put an arm around her waist and she clung to him instantly. He led her toward the house which was luckily only a few feet away.

Some people nearby called out variations of goodnight and happy birthday as they passed by. Annie waved and thanked them lazily as she gripped Elijah's shirt.

They traveled up the stoop stairs one at a time. Which was a challenge in itself. Once inside the house was far more quiet than outside, and for that Elijah was grateful. The trip upstairs took even longer than the one to get into the house. She stumbled every few steps and would grab his arms to stablize herself.

By the time they reached her bedroom she was yawning and dragging her feet. Elijah opened the door and led her inside. He helped her sit on the edge of the bed and steadied her shoulders as she swayed. Elijah crouched in front of her, keeping a hand on her thigh.

"Where your pajamas at?"

Annie pointed vaguely toward her dresser, "In there."

"Which drawer?"

"The middle one."

He opened it and was welcomed with the sight of several neatly folded nightgowns. He didn't linger too long and grabbed one. When he turned back around Annie was rubbing her eyes.

"Bunny, is it okay if I help you?"

She nodded, "Yes."

He crouched in front of her and carefully unbuckled her heels. He set them neatly beside the bed. Then he removed her pearl necklace and earrings, setting them onto her dresser so she wouldn't miss them.

Elijah stood awkwardly.

"Can I unzip your dress?"

Annie nodded, "You can, but close your eyes."

"Alright."

Annie seemed satisifed as he shut his eyes.

Using only touch, he carefully found the zipper and lowered it.

Annie concentrated very hard on helping herself get out of the dress. Which mostly consisted of getting tangled for a minute.

When they got her party dress off, he helped her get the nightgown over her head. The process took longer than it should have because Annie kept getting distracted.

"You can open 'em now."

Elijah opened his eyes.

Annie was sitting there in her nightgown looking entirely pleased with herself.

He shook his head.

Then helped her get onto the bed properly and underneath the covers. Within seconds, she looked halfway asleep. She let out a sigh as he pulled the blanket even farther up on her.

"Did you have fun today?"

"It was the best. Especially with you here."

Elijah sat beside the bed, "I'm glad."

"Thank you," she smiled sleepily.

"You ain't gotta thank me."

"I do."

Elijah chuckled, "Even drunk you so hardheaded. "

Annie smiled proudly.

A few seconds passed. Then she opened one eye.

"Baby?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I have a kiss?"

He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss against her lips. When he pulled away she looked absolutely content. Within seconds her eyes drifted closed again.

"Goodnight, Bunny."

"Mhm."

It was barely a response because she was already asleep.

Elijah stood quietly, looked at her one last time, then slipped from the room.

October 31st, 1958

The group of children hurried down the sidewalk with their candy bags bouncing against their legs.

"Thank you, Miss Annie!"

"Happy Halloween, y'all! Be careful going down these streets!"

Annie waved at them until they were out of sight.

The whole neighborhood was alive tonight. Children ran up and down the sidewalks and jack-o'-lanterns glowed from stoops. Somewhere down the street somebody had a radio playing old blues music.

While outside was lively, inside was just as loud. Every few seconds Elijah and Annie heard laughter drift through the open window. It was one of Mama Nette's many card game nights, and everyone was ready to gamble their money. Annie could hear her grandmother cursing someone as the sounds of smacks hit the table.

Elijah sat beside her on the stoop with his elbows rested on his knees as he watched her. Which was something he had been doing all night. And every time Annie turned around she found him looking at her.

"What?"

"Nothin'."

"You keep starin' at me."

"'Cause you pretty," he shrugged.

"Boy," Annie rolled her eyes.

"I'm serious."

Heat crept onto her cheeks anyway. She turned away before he could see how much she liked hearing it.

The candy bowl sat in her lap and she absentmindedly sorted through it while they waited for the next group of trick-or-treaters.

After a few moments Elijah spoke again.

"You really good with kids, you know that?"

"I just really like 'em," Annie looked over and smiled at him.

"I can tell. That's probably what make you such a good teacher, huh?"

Annie looked down at the candy bowl for a moment to think, "Maybe."

"Why'd you wanna become a teacher anyway?"

"I don't know. I think I always liked helping people," she leaned back a bit while fiddling with the candy pieces. "When I was little I thought about being a nurse. But then I thought about all the blood I would have to see."

She immediately made a face while Elijah let out a soft smile.

"I can handle scraped knees and little cuts. But anything else I'd rather not. No, thank you," her eyes passed over the busy street. "Besides, everybody always told me I was good with kids. I guess teaching just made sense. I like watchin' 'em learn things."

"Yeah?"

She nodded, "When they finally understand somethin' they been struggling with, it makes me happy."

Elijah found himself smiling a bit more too. That sounded exactly like Annie. She always found joy in helping somebody else, wanting everyone around to be happy, and giving pieces of herself away. After a few moments he nodded.

"I get it," his eyes drifted to the street with a far away look in his eye. "I always felt like I needed to take of somebody. Growing up it was really just me and Stack. And Stack was always gettin' into somethin'. There wasn't nobody that was gone take care of us. My mama died after she had us and my pops wasn't worth a damn. He did a lotta messed up shit to us. More Stack than me. He drank too much, gambled, and was a mean son of a bitch."

Annie immediately grew quiet. She hadn't known any of this. She knew bits and pieces about Elijah's life, but there were still huge parts of his life that she'd never heard. Like the things that happened before he joined the military.

"He'd always tell us we wasn't men. Which was some funny thing to say to a couple of boys. There were times we ain't know where our next meal was coming from. We were doin' whatever we could to survive. And as we got older it got worse. That's part of why we joined the army. We thought if we learned how to survive nobody could ever make us feel helpless again."

Elijah looked at her. Like really looked at her. The streetlamp illuminated her face, her large round brown eyes glowed with softness. She had compassion and understanding all over her face. Nobody had ever looked at him the way Annie did. Most people were either scared or full of pity knowing their background. But she looked at him as just Elijah.

Then Annie quietly asked, "Did it work?"

Elijah stared at her. The question caught him slightly off guard.

He thought about the nightmares, the injuries, the men he'd lost, and the years he'd spent feeling empty. But the more he thought the more it led him to the present of sitting on this stoop, feeling more at peace than he had in years.

A slow smile appeared, "A little."

Annie smiled back. Then another group of children appeared. She passed out the candy and told the children how cute they looked.

Another group of trick-or-treaters came and went before the conversation picked back up.

Annie settled back into her spot on the stoop, pulling her cardigan a little tighter around herself against the cool October air.

Elijah glanced over at her.

"I know we mentioned it, but you really do want kids?"

"Of course I do."

"I don't know. Some women say they want kids then end up changin' they mind."

Annie shook her head, "No. I defintely want babies. I always thought about being somebody's mama someday."

"And only three?"

"Yes," She huffed dramatically. "My grandmother had six children. I don't think I got six babies in me. Carrying a baby is a lot on the body. Your feet swell, back aches, and you just uncomfortable all the time. Then you gotta push the little sucka out."

"Well, you know twins run in my family," Elijah said it so casually.

Annie slowly turned her head to him, "And what's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm just sayin'."

"Sayin' what?"

"What if you have twins," He continued. "What if we have kids and the first time you pop out two babies at once?"

Annie looked at the street like she was genuinely considering it.

"I guess I'd cry."

"Why?"

"Because that's just too much," Annie thought for a second. "But I think I would still want to have another, so maybe four."

"Good."

Annie furrowed her brows and tilted her head.

"You awfully invested in this 'what-if' family."

"'Cause it's my family."

One of Annie's eyebrows slowly lifted.

"And what makes you so sure I'm havin' kids with you?"

Elijah turned to look at her with the driest most unimpressed look on his face. It was so serious it made her laugh. He was looking at her as if she had just asked the dumbest question he'd ever heard.

"Stop playin' with me, Annette."

Annie let out a few more chuckles then leaned her head against his shoulder.

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry, baby."

He narrowed his eyes, "You should be."

She laughed again.

A comfortable silence settled between them. The sounds of Halloween filled the silence.

Annie looked out at the glowing jack-o'-lanterns across the street. Then softly said, "I guess we'll just have to wait and see."

Elijah looked down at her to see a small smile on her face. And despite himself, he smiled too, "Yeah, we will."

The next group of trick-or-treaters came up the walkway before either of them could say anything else. It was a little boy with his younger sister who was too shy to do anything other than hide behind his leg.

"Well look at y'all!"

The boy grinned up at Annie while holding out both of their bags. Annie crouched down and handed them each a handful of candy.

"Y'all be safe now."

The little ghost nodded seriously, "Yes ma'am!"

Annie nearly melted right there on the stoop.

The children hurried away, their parents calling after them from the sidewalk. Once they disappeared down the street, Annie sat back down beside Elijah.

The candy bowl was getting noticeably lighter and the night was growing colder too. Most of the younger kids had started to head home. Soon it would just be teenagers trying to squeeze out a few extra pieces of candy.

"Thanksgiving coming up. You got any plans?"

Elijah glanced over. He thought about it for a moment, then shrugged.

"Never really had a reason to. I usually work or stay home."

"On Thanksgiving?" Annie frowned. "You can't do that."

"Why not? Been doing it for years."

"Well not this year. 'Cause you got plans now."

"Oh I do?"

"Yes sir. I'm invitin' you over for Thanksgiving," she looked at him with such seriousness. "We usually go back home, but this year everybody's comin' here."

Elijah was quiet at the statement. He didn't know how to take it. He wasn't necessarily nervous to meet the rest of Annie's family, he just didn't know what to expect.

Annie noticed Elijah's silence, and even though she was used to the quiet from him there seemed to be something else in it. She instantly recgonized what it was.

"You'll be fine, baby. I promise. My family can be a bit opinionated and ask too many questions, but they're good people. And think about it this way, Mama likes you. So they got no choice but to respect that."

"Yeah, we'll see."

Elijah looked back out to the street while trying not to think about all the reasons why Annie's family wouldn't like him.

The Week of Thanksgiving, 1958

Annie had spent the entirety of Tuesday morning being passed between family members. The second she'd walked into Ray's house she'd been grabbed into three different hugs before she'd even gotten through the front door good.

Now she was tucked away in the den with all of her girl cousins.

The television was on low in the background, a baby blanket was spread over one couch, shopping bags in the corner, and half-finished cups of tea on side tables. The room smelled faintly like baby powder and perfume.

Annie sat curled into the corner of one of the larger couches with eight-month-old Olivia balanced happily in her lap.

Olivia tried to reach for Annie's necklace, but she gently caught the baby's hand. Olivia giggled at the face Annie made. The sound made everyone smile.

Rosette, Annie's youngest girl cousin and Olivia's mother, shook her head from her spot across the room, "All these babies love Annie so much, they forget they got a mama."

Olivia immediately proved the point by stretching both arms toward Annie's face and squealed.

Victoria, Annie's oldest girl cousin, looked over from where she was stretched across an armchair, "It's 'cause she spoil 'em."

"I do not," Annie gasped.

"You absolutely do."

Annie rolled her eyes.

Olivia had somehow managed to grab a fistful of her curls. Annie carefully untangled the tiny fingers.

"Y'all are mean."

"No. You just hate us being honest," Victoria smirked.

Annie stuck her tongue out.

Victoria looked at her and shook her head, "Twenty-six years old and still act eight."

Victoria had always been this way with Annie. Being almost five years older than her, Victoria spent most of their childhood watching out for her younger cousin. She always joked about how Annie was her first baby long before she even had jeremy.

Annie learned so many things because of Victoria. She learned how to braid hair, learned how to do her makeup, learned how to drive, and learned what she did know about boys because of her.

Most of the things Annie knew about being a grown woman had come from sitting at Victoria's feet growing up. Which was exactly why she always listened when Victoria spoke.

"Anyways, I heard some things about you, Annette," Rosette's voice was teasing. "Mama Nette told Mama that you seeing somebody. When exactly were you plannin' on tellin' us?"

Annie sighed so dramatically before saying, "I was waiting."

"Waiting for what?" Victoria spoke up.

Annie opened her mouth then immediately closed it because she didn't actually know.

The women laughed at her facial expression. Even Olivia started laughing despite having absolutely no idea what was happening. Annie kissed the baby's chubby cheek.

"So when we meeting him?" Rosette asked.

"Thursday," Annie absentmindedly bounced Olivia.

The room got quieter as every woman exchanged a look.

"On Thanksgiving?" Esther, her cousin William Jr's wife, asked.

Annie nodded.

"Sounds like it's getting pretty serious," Thelma, her cousin Johnathon's fiancée, said in agreement.

"I guess," Annie shrugged her shoudlers.

"What does 'I guess' mean?" Victoria stared at her.

Annie sighed.

For the next twenty minutes she found herself answering question after question. Like how old was he, what did he do, was. henice, and was he handsome. The women were like sharks who smelled spilled blood.

Eventually Esther tilted her head, ready to ask the question that nobody else seemed to want to ask, "So, have you lost your virginity yet?"

It was quiet except for the sounds of Annie choking. The quietness lingered until Annie finally mumbled, "No."

Victoria spoke in a soft voice, "That's perfectly fine. You do that when you ready, ain't no rush."

Annie relaxed slightly as she stared down at Olivia, "I think...I think I want to."

That surprised even her. The words had come out before she'd really thought about them.

Annie rubbed Olivia's tiny back.

"I don't know," she laughed nervously. "It's weird."

"How?" Rosette asked gently.

"It's like…" Annie searched for the words. "I feel a way I never felt before. I'm comfortable now, but I still don't know how ready I am."

Rosette smiled.

"Then don't worry about it. When we meet him we'll let you know," Rosette smiled. "We'll figure him out."

Olivia yawned against Annie's chest. She smiled and kissed her forehead.

The rest of the afernoon went on with them all talking and laughing like they normally do when they all got together. Every now and then, one of the children would run into the room to ask a question or because they needed something.

After hours of family time, Annie felt worn out and ready to head home. They all said their brief goodbyes and headed their separate ways.

When Annie got back home, the noise of family didn't settle. In fact it only stayed with her.

Her Aunt Clarisse, Rosette, Olivia, and Rosette's husband Lance, were staying at her home. Though it wasn't that many extra people, Annie and Mama Nette were used to it being just the two of them. Now, the house was filled with constant noise of footsteps and a baby.

Annie stood in the foyer for a second as everyone moved around her. It was then that she decided that she didn't want to be there.

She headed up the stairs to her room. It seemed to be the only place that hadn't been overtaken by family. The silence that followed with the door closing made Annie sigh. She loved her family, but she needed a little break.

Annie walked over to her dresser and started pulling things out like a nightgown, three dresses, her hair scarf, a toothbrush, and a few other things. It was just enough for the night, and maybe another. She shoved it all into a small bag.

She went back downstairs, trying to speed past her nosey family members. But it was just her luck that she ran right into her grandmother. The older woman got one good look at the bag and made a humming sound.

"You not gone be late are you?"

"No ma'am. I promise," Annie kissed her grandmother's cheek.

She gripped her bag tight and headed out the door before anyone else could stop her.

By the time she pulled up to Elijah's apartment building, the sun was starting to set. She headed to the door and knocked only twice. A few seconds later the door opened, and Elijah stood there looking genuinely confused.

"Bunny? What you doing here?"

Annie held up the bag.

"It's too many people at my house and I figured you wouldn't mind me stayin' for a while."

Annie stepped inside as soon as he moved aside.

"No I don't," he said as he shut the door behind her.

Elijah took the bag from her shoulder and carried to the bedroom.

Annie felt herself relax at how quiet the apartment was.

When he came back, she was stretched across his couch with her shoes kicked off and head rested against the cushion. He sat beside her with one arm stretched across the back of the couch. She sat up and scooted as close as possible.

"How's your family doing Bunny? I'm sure you missed them."

Annie started telling him everything about her family. All the old things and the new ones. Like how big the children have gotten, or the new jobs and houses her cousins have, or how her Aunt Clarisse's shop is doing back home.

Every few minutes Elijah would hum, nod, or ask a question, but mostly he listened. Which was one of Annie's favorite things about him. He always listened, and hours later he could repeat the entire conversation back to her.

Eventually Annie's voice softened, and the nonstop faded away. The exhaustion of the day finally caught up to her. He wrapped an arm around her, thumb gently rubbing her arm.

The rest of the evening passed with the television taking place of their conversation. The apartment had beco e warm and quiet as the hours passed by.

Eventually Annie glanced toward the clock, and realized how late it had gotten.

"It's so late. I need to get ready for bed," Annie stood and smoothed down her skirt. "I'll be right back."

Elijah nodded, "Okay."

She grabbed her bag and disappeared into the bathroom.

The second the door shut she leaned against it and sighed. Her nerves were slowly starting to catch up with her. This was just Elijah. Yet somehow she still felt shy.

Annie took her shower and the warm water helped to ease her mind. After her shower she went through the rest of her routine, brushing her teeth, wrapping her hair, putting on lotion, then changing into her nightgown.

When she left the bathroom, Elijah was standing near the bedroom door digging through his dresser. He looked up when he heard the door open.

His eyes traveled over her for only a second before settling back on her face. Annie looked away as he stared at her. The floor suddenly seemed very interesting.

"You're gorgeous, you know that?"

The compliment sent heat rushing to her cheeks.

"Thank you," her voice came out much smaller than intended.

Elijah crossed the room, reaching her in a few strides. His hands settled against her waist and he shook his head.

"You ain't gotta thank me for tellin' the truth."

The blush on her face only deepened.

"I'm gonna get cleaned up," he kissed her forehead then stepped away.

"O-Okay," Annie nodded.

He disappeared into the bathroom. And a few moments later she heard the shower start.

Annie wandered her way back out to the couch. There was a certain feeling in the apartment now, and she didn't know what to make of it. Her head was spinning with so many things, so when the phone rang, she jumped.

Her eyebrows furrowed trying to place who would be calling Elijah this late. The ringing continued as she glanced toward the bathroom. Finally, she walked over and picked it up.

"Hello?"

There was a brief pause.

"Annie."

Annie blinked, completely taken aback, "Mama?"

Annette Richard's voice came through clear as day.

"Who else gon' be callin' this man's house this time of night?"

"What you doin' callin' over here?"

"I forgot to remind you not to forget about the pies. And you better off makin' 'em over there since the kitchen gon' be packed the next few days. I think two of each should be good enough."

"Yes ma'am."

The bathroom door opened behind her. Annie looked up and immediately forgot whatever her grandmother had been talking about. Every thought in her head completely disappeared.

Elijah had stepped out while brushing his teeth. He had on a pair of dark pajama pants that hung low on his hips, and no shirt, just bare skin.

Despite noticing her staring, Elijah said nothing. Instead he nodded his head toward the phone in question.

"Who that?"

Annie said nothing, just stared.

Elijah frowned, "Bunny?"

Still nothing.

Her grandmother's voice came through the receiver.

"Annette?"

Annie snapped back to reality.

"Huh?"

"You heard me?"

"Yes ma'am."

She absolutely had not been listening.

"You be careful. And come back the same way you left. Understand me?"

"Mama!"

"I love you. Goodnight."

Then the line went dead.

Elijah still stood by the bathroom doorway waiting on an answer.

"Who was on the phone?"

Annie's eyes darted everywhere except toward him.

"Stop lookin' at me," the words came out much harsher than she really wanted them to. t

Elijah's eyebrows shot up in slight shock, "Sorry."

The apology was so quick that Annie instantly felt bad. She rubbed her forehead.

"No, it ain't you, baby," she rubbed her forehead. "It was just my grandmother on the phone. SHe was reminding me about making the pies for Thanksgiving."

Elijah nodded slowly. He was still trying to figure out what had her acting so strange all of a sudden.

Annie looked away again. Her heart was beating entirely too fast. The image of Elijah right in fornt of her was doing nothing good to her mind. She chose to fold her arms.

"I'm just tired, that's all," she took a pause. "I think I'm ready for bed."

Elijah studied her for a long moment. It was long enough that Annie started feeling nervous.

"I don't want you uncomfortable, so you can have the bedroom and I'll just sleep on the couch."

Annie's shoulders relaxed. She was a mix of relieved and guilty.

"You don't gotta do that."

"I don't mind. I want you comfortable."

Annie looked down at her bare feet, focusing on the way the soft cotton of her nightgown brushed against her calves.

"Okay, thank you," she nodded once.

"You're welcome," Elijah simply dipped his head.

Annie faced toward the bedroom ready to escape. She needed space to feel all these feelings she had. She only made it a few steps when fingers lightly wrapped around her arm. She turned around only to find herself standing much closer to Elijah than she had been previously.

A tiny sound escaped her as her eyes widened.

"You was just gonna go to bed? You ain't forgettin' somethin'?" Elijah looked amused.

She swallowed hard.

The man was so close she could smell the soap he used. She could feel the warmth coming off him. Her thoughts were becoming less and less useful by the second.

"I—"

Elijah patiently waited with one eyebrow raised.

Annie finally managed a weak, "Goodnight, Elijah."

A 'tsk' sound quickly left out of his mouth, "Bunny. That ain't a real goodnight."

Her face heated up all over again.

He looked at her like she was the most precious thing in the world. As if she was something worth being careful with. And in his eyes she always would be.

Before she could say anything, Elijah's hand slowly came up. His fingers found her chin with a gentle touch as he tilted her face up so she couldn't look at anything but him.

Annie's breath caught in her throat.

He leaned down. His lips met hers softly at first, testing to see how far he could go. The kiss was warm and slow, lips barely pressing. When he realized that she wasn't pulling away, Elijah pressed in deeper. His tongue reached out in question.

Annie hesitated for a split second. Her heart was beating so loud so could've sworn he could hear it. Once she pulled herself together, her lips parted just enough for. his tongue to slid in against hers.

The kiss quickened after that. What had started as something gentle and soft had turned into something that could be named as hunger. Their mouths moved together in a way that made her knees weak.

Elijah's hands went to her waist, then slid slightly lower to the thickness of her hips and pulled her flush against him. She could feel his body heat through the thin fabric of her nightgown.

Annie accidentally moaned into his mouth. The sound was swallowed up by the way he kissed her so completely. Her hands came up to grip the back of his head and pulled him closer. She was desperate to taste more of him, and to feel him.

Elijah grunted in answer. His grip tghtening on her body before his hands roamed her softness like her was trying to memorize every dip and curve.

Eventually he pulled back just enough to break the kiss. His forehead rested against hers for a moment. Then he tilted his head and pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek, then another just beneath her jaw, then another against the side of her neck.

Annie couldn't help the shiver that ran through her body at the feeling.

Elijah's voice came out rough when he finally spoke against her throat, "I love you, Annie."

Her eyes went wide. This wasn't exactly shocking. She'd known this for a while. The way he looked at her, the way he touched her, they way he talked to her. The way he professed himself in front of the schoolhouse. Annie just knew. But still, hearing the words out loud was different. Her chest tightened and her fingers twitched against his scalp.

He gave her one more soft and sweet peck on the lips, then stepped back to give her air.

"Goodnight, Annie," his voice came out low and rough.

Before she could think to say it back, he pressed a brief kiss to her forehead then stepped away.

Annie stood there trying to collect herself.

"Get some sleep," Elijah nodded toward the bedroom. "Get some sleep."

"O-Okay," she nodded.

Annie turned and hurried into the bedroom before she embarrassed herself any further. The door clicked shut behind her, leaving an overwhelming silence.

She climbed beneath the blankets and pulled them all the way up to her chin. Then stared at the ceiling, willing for her eyes to close. Five minutes passed. Then ten. Then twenty. Yet sleep never came. She rolled onto one side, the other, and then onto her back again.

The room wasn't unfamiliar. She'd spent plenty of time in Elijah's apartment. But tonight everything was different.

Maybe because this was the first time she was spending the night. Maybe because Thanksgiving was so soon and her entire family was waiting to meet him. Or maybe it was the way he felt, shirtless pressed against—

Annie buried her face in a pillow, wishing for the thoughts of had happened only moments before fogged up her head.

Because for all her years of saying she wasn't ready, and the confusion, and worrying, and overthinking, she was beginning to realize that she was very very much in love with Elijah Moore.

Annie woke up a tad bit earlier than she normally did. And for a moment she forgot where she was. She stared up at the the unfamiliar ceiling until it all came back to her. She was in Elijah's apartment.

The fact that she had barely slept because her mind would not stop replaying everything from the night before. And thinking about it made her stomach flutter.

After another minute of hiding beneath the covers, she forced herself out of bed. The apartment was quiet as she padded into the bathroom and got ready for the day.

When she finished, she had on one of the dresses she brought and took down her hair. It was a bit chilly, but she didn't mind it.

She moved to the kitchen and immediately go to work. After digging through Elijah's cabinets and refrigerator, she managed to piece something together for breakfast.

Annie hummed under her breath while she worked. She was standing over the stove when she heard heavy footsteps and a yawn behind her.

"Mornin'," his voice was rough with sleep.

Before she could turn around, strong arms wrapped around her waist. A smile spread across her face as Elijah buried his face against the side of her head. His chest was warm against her back. And for every reason, Annie found it all so very distracting.

"Good mornin'," Annie bit her lip.

She turned her head slightly, looking at him over her shoulder clearly waiting.

"You waitin' on somethin'?" A smirk tugged at his mouth.

Annie just quickly lifted her eyebrows up.

He chuckled then leaned down and gave her a good, somewhat quick, peck on the lips. It wasn't quite enough to satisfy her, but it would do for the time being. Especially since Elijah hadn't gotten ready for the day yet.

"What got you up this early?"

Annie turned back toward the stove.

"I don't quite know," Annie turned back to the stove. "I do have to make the pies today."

"Sounds like a lot of work."

"Not really," Annie shrugged.

As she spoke she glanced over her shoulder at him. Her eyes landed on his hair and her brows furrowed. Annie tilted her head.

"When the last time you got your hair done?"

"What's wrong with it?" His hand immediately went to his head.

"Ain't nothin' wrong with it," she laughed.

"You makin' it sound like it is."

"It just needs a little attention is all," Annie smiled at him sweetly. "Maybe you'll let me practice on you. I think it'll look nice."

"I guess I'll let you long as you don't have me out here lookin' crazy."

They talked more while breakfast finished cooking. A few minutes later they were sitting across from each other at the small kitchen table.

Morning sunlight filtered through the windows. The apartment felt cozy and comfortable like they'd been doing this for years.

"We need to do more for that bedroom. It's sad in there."

"Well, it's enough for me," Elijah looked up from his food.

"It ain't for me," Annie pointed her fork at him. "It's only a bed, a dresser, and one picture. That ain't enough. It should feel like more. Don't you like what I did in the living room?"

"I do Bunny."

"So let me do I wat I do. I'll get some nice curtains, a rug, maybe even a chair. It'll look so good when I'm finished."

Elijah shook his head before spooning more food into his mouth, "You can do whatever you want."

A dangerous smile slowly spread across her face.

Breakfast went on with the conversation going from decorations to church to school to Christmas. They had an easy rhythm going that never let up.

When hey finished, Annie stood up ready to get the day going. She had a productive day ahead of her and needed to get an early start.

Elijah disappeared to get dressed while Annie cleaned up the kitchen. It didn't take him long. A few minutes later he reappeared dressed for the day. They gathered their things and headed downstairs.

The morning air was cool. It made Annie tuck her hands into her dress pockets while she waited for Elijah to unlock the car.

Once he got it, he opened the passenger door for her and she got in the car with a smile. He shut the door behind her and headed to the driver's side. The engine was started and the radio played softly.

He drove them to the grocery store, so Annie would be able to pick up the things that she needed. The store was already a bit busy by the time they arrived. The parking lot was half full when Elijah pulled in.

Annie looked around and sighed, "All this last minute shoppin' people doin'."

"And you one of 'em," Elijah grabbed a cart from the front of the store.

"Well, I have a reason."

"Bunny, you coulda brought what you needed over," he pushed the cart toward her.

"Oh, you just shut up."

Elijah simply chuckled at his woman.

The second they stepped inside, Annie moved with a purpose leading them around. The first stop was produce, then dairy, then baking supplies. They eventually had to go back to the produce area because Annie forgot something. The entire trip consisted of Annie bouncing from one aisle to the next while Elijah pushed the growing cart behind her.

Annie not only got the supplies for the pies, she also got some simple things just to have in Elijah's kitchen. She had ingredients for soups, sandwiches, and breakfast items. It was all things she knew were simple enough for him to make.

Eventually they found themselves in the beauty aisle. Annie examined every bottle and jar, deciding to just stick with her tried and true Murray's pomade and Madam C.J. Walker's vegetable shampoo. She also grabbed a comb and some clips.

The trip ended up taking nearly forty-five minutes. By the time they reached the checkout line, the cart was completely full.

Annie reached into her purse for her money as the cashier began totaling everything up on the register. Elijah saw that and became instantly annoyed.

"Bunny."

She ignored him and started to count the bills she pulled out.

Elijah's hand seemed to appear out of nowhere, taking the money out of her hand.

"Give me my money, Elijah."

"No," Elijah pulled his hand away as Annie tried to reach for it. "Bunny, you know you ain't paying for nothin' while I'm standin' right here."

Annie crossed her arms, a slight pout on her face.

Elijah handed her back her money and pulled out his wallet, "Put that damn money away, woman."

The deep warning in his voice left Annie no room to argue. She just sighed dramatically and did as told.

Elijah paid for the items and loaded the bags back into the cart. They headed to the car, put everything in, and headed back to Elijah's.

When they got back to his place, they both carried everything upstairs. The kitchen counters quickly filled with groceries. Annie immediately got to work with organizing it all. She left the pie ingredients and hair care on the counter, but put everything else away in its proper spots.

After everything was properly put away, Annie gathered up the hair products and turned to face Elijah. She had a little smirk on her face.

"Can you go get me a towel please?"

Elijah narrowed his eyes but did as he was told. A few seconds later he came back holding a clean towel over his shoulder.

"Thank you. Now take your shirt off so it doesn't get wet," one of his eyebrows lifted.

The look she gave him afterward made a grin slowly spread across his face.

"Elijah…" Annie immediately rolled her eyes.

"I ain't say nothin'."

Still smiling, Elijah grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head.

The years of army life and physical labor had done his body good. Even despite the scars that she could see. He was solid with broad shoulders and strong arms. And, sure, he didn't necessarily have to take his shirt off for her to wash his hair, but it seemed after the view last night Annie wanted more.

"Come here," Annie quickly reached for the towel.

She ignored his growing grin, wrapping the towel around his bare shoulders and pushed him toward he sink. The kitchen quickly filled with the sound of running water.

"Bend down for me."

"Yes ma'am," The teasing in his voice made her shake her head.

Elijah bent over the sink while Annie carefully wet his hair. Her fingers moved through the thick curls, making sure every section was soaked.

Annie glanced down when she noticed that Elijah's eyes were closed, "You alright?"

"Yeah, this just feels good."

A smile tugged at her lips. She poured shampoo into her hand and began working it through his hair. Her fingers scratched lightly against his scalp.

Elijah let out a low hum.

Annie continued scrubbing and eventually it was time to rinse the soap away. She wrapped the towel around his head and gently rubbed away the excess water.

"Alright, go sit in. the living room."

"Yes ma'am."

He stood and walked away.

A few minutes later Annie entered the living room carrying the comb, pomade, and clips. He had urned the television on and it was playing with the volume lowered.

Elijah sat on the floor in front of the couch.

Annie settled behind him and pulled him back until he was fit comfortably between her legs. She began combing through his damp hair. The process would take some time and patience because it looked like Elijah did't care to take good care of his hair for awhile.

Annie carefully parted the first section, using a little pomade to help. Then she began braiding. She went slow and steady to get used to it. The first braid came out slightly crooked and thick. It made her frown.

She got back to work and the next braid came out a bit straighter. Her hands were starting to find a rhythm and all the braids were getting better as time went on.

The repetitive motions were gradually lulling Elijah to sleep. Every few minutes his head would dip forward and Annie would gently catch it. Eventually he keptdoing it, so she guided it sideways until it rested against her thigh.

While Annie continued braiding, every so often Elijah absentmindly rubbed her calf where it rested beside him. He even pressed a quick kiss to her leg.

The afternoon slipped by. And before either of them knew it, all eight braids were finished.

Annie sat back to inspect her work.

They weren't perfect by far. A few parts weren't exactly straight. One braid was slightly thicker than the rest. Still she thinks she's proud.

Still, she felt proud.

She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the side of his head. The movement startled him awake.

"You're done baby," she smiled.

Elijah blinked several times before slowly standing. He stretched his arms over his head and headed toward the bathroom.

Annie followed behind him nervously.

He stood in front of the mirror examining the braids from every angle. Turning his head left to right.

"What do you think?" Annie folded her arms.

He kept looking. And the longer he stayed silent, the more worried she became.

"It's not good? I can take i down," she sighed.

Elijah looked at her through the mirror. A light smile hit her face.

"Bunny, you did good."

"Really? You ain't just saying that?"

"No I mean it."

He turned his head again and a laugh escaped him this time.

"You know what?" he stared at himself in the mirror. "I really do look like my brother now."

"Not like it's a bad thing, y'all are twins," Annie giggled.

"Naw, it ain't."

He reached for her hand and pulled her closer.

The reflection looking back at them made something warm settle in his chest. Elijah squeezed her hand then lifted it to kiss it.

"I just might have to keep you around, Ms. Richard," he said quietly.

Annie rolled her eyes despite the smile on her face.

"I got work to do," she told him softly.

He leaned down and stole one more quick kiss, "Go on then."

Annie laughed and lightly pushed at his chest. Then turned and headed to the kitchen while Elijah remained standing there watching her go. And truth be told, he liked seeing her take over his space. Whenever she was over, the place always felt less empty.

He leaned against the doorway while Annie got to work. The ingredients covered the counters. She had subtly started to rearragne the kitchen to her liking. She was moving around the area like it was hers alone.

She went from pulling bowls down, to peeling sweet potatoes, to mixing different ingredients together. Elijah stood beside the counter watching her work.

"You need somethin'?" Annie asked without looking up as she rolled out the pie crust.

"No."

"Well, you just been watchin' me like you do."

"I can't just watch you?"

"You ain't got nothin' better to do?" Annie smiled despite herself.

"Nope."

She shook her head.

He watched her hands work and concentration settled across her face. She started to hum as she poured ingredients into the bowl. The apartment was starting to smell better with every minute that went by.

At one point Elijah wandered back into the living room and turned on the television. But ten minutes later he was back in the kitchen.

"Why you come back in here botherin' me?" Annie looked over at him.

"It smell good in here."

"Don't be gettin' in my way, Elijah," she rolled her eyes.

Time went by and the sun had started to set. The apartment was growing darker so Annie switched on the kitchen and continued working.

Annie poured up the pie fillings for all six pies then put three of them into the oven.

It took a few hours, but eventually the pies were finished. She carefully placed all six pies on the counter and stepped back looking on in satisfaction.

Suddenly, a yawn escaped her. The long day was catching up to her and she was noticeably tired now.

Luckily, she had cleaned while she worked so there was nothing she needed to do. She made her way to the bedroom to get ready for bed. She brushed her teeth while Elijah checked the locks on the door.

When she finished, she met back up with him in the small little hallway that led to the bedroom. Elijah leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss against her forehead.

"Goodnight, Bunny."

"Goodnight, Elijah," Annie smiled softly.

"Sleep good tonight," He brushed his knuckles against her cheek.

"You too."

Annie’s breath caught, a smile spreading across her face. 

The box was deep blue, clearly expensive. She opened it with careful fingers.

A necklace. Diamonds arranged in an intricate pattern, delicate but striking. The kind of thing that cost more money than most people saw in months.

“Elijah,” she breathed. “This is—it’s beautiful.” 

“It’s gon’ match your dress.” He picked it up, the gems catching the light. “Here. I got it.”

Annie lifted her chin as he draped the necklace around her throat, his fingers brushing her skin as he worked the clasp.

“There,” he murmured, his hands resting on her shoulders as they both looked at her reflection. “Perfect.”

It was perfect. The stones gleamed against her dark skin, elegant and striking.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

“Mm.” His hands slid down her arms slowly, then back up. “Speaking of… I heard somethin’ real interesting today.”

Annie’s stomach tightened at his tone. “Oh?”

“Mhm.” His fingers traced along her collarbones, just above the necklace. “Ran into Marcus Webb. He mentioned you was by his shop last week.”

Her heart started pounding. “I—yes, I stopped by—”

“Said you was bartering with him.” Smoke’s voice was casual, but his hands had stilled on her shoulders. 

“Something about your herbal remedies in exchange for… what was it? Some fabric? Some special buttons?”

Annie swallowed hard. “It was just—I wanted some lace. For a project. And Marcus said his wife’s been having trouble sleeping, so I offered to make her some of my chamomile blend in exchang—”

“Now why…” His hands slid back up to her neck, fingers playing along the edge of the necklace. “Why would you need to do that?”

“It was just—”

“When you have a husband,” he continued, his voice dropping lower, his breath warm against her ear, “who can pay for it?”

“I didn’t think—”

“When your husband has given you money for it?” He continued. His fingers traced along her throat, not tight, just… there. 

Present. 

“I give you an allowance every month, don’t I?”

“Yes—”

“You got access to all the accounts,” His lips brushed the shell of her ear, and despite everything, Annie felt heat pool in her stomach.

“So explain to me, angel. Why you bartering like some woman whose man can’t provide for her?”

“It wasn’t about the money—” Her voice came out breathier than she intended.

“No?” His hands slid down, fingers trailing along the neckline of her dress, the tops of her breasts. “Then what was it about?”

Annie’s eyes fluttered closed. “I just… I liked the idea of trading. Of using something I made to get something I wanted.”

“Something you made.” His hands continued their slow exploration—along her sides, her waist, back up. “Like those folks are worthy of the things you make with your own two hands.”

“Elijah—”

“You see how that looks?” His mouth was at her neck now, lips brushing her skin between words. “My woman. Trading her goods like she ain’t got a man taking care of her. Like she gotta hustle for fabric and buttons.”

“That’s not—” She gasped as his teeth grazed her pulse point. “That’s not how it was—”

“How was it then?” His hands splayed across her stomach, pulling her back against him. “Explain it to me, sugar.”

“I just wanted—” Her breath hitched as one of his hands slid higher, thumb brushing just below her breast. “I wanted to make something. To trade something I created—”

“Mm.” The sound was almost a growl against her throat. “And how you think that makes me look? When people see my wife trading herbs for notions? What they gon’ think about the kind of man I am?”

“Nobody thinks—”

“Everybody thinks, baby. You know that.” His hand cupped her breast through the fabric of her dress, and she bit back a moan. 

“Everybody watching. Everybody talking. And now they’ll be talking about how Elijah Moore’s woman out there bartering.”

“I’m sorry—”

“Are you?” He turned her around to face him, and the look in his eyes made her thighs clench. “Are you really?”

“Yes—”

“Then tomorrow,” he said, his voice firm despite the heat in his gaze, “we goin’ to Marcus Webb’s shop. Together.”

Annie’s eyes widened. “Elijah—”

“You gon’ cancel whatever deal you got with him. And I’m gon’ pay for whatever it is you wanted.” 

His hand came up to cup her face. “In front of everybody. So they can see that you don’t need to trade nothin’. Because your husband provides.”

“Please,” Annie whispered, mortified. “Don’t—don’t make me do that—”

“Ain’t making you do nothing.” His thumb brushed her bottom lip. “Just correcting a misunderstanding. Making sure everybody knows you taken care of.”

“That’s gon’ to be so embarrassing—”

“Good.” He leaned in, kissed her slowly, deeply, until she was breathless. “Maybe the embarrassment will help you remember next time. Will help you think before you go making deals behind my back.”

“I wasn’t—it wasn’t behind your back—”

“You ain’t tell me about it, did you?”

She couldn’t argue with that.

“Tomorrow,” he repeated, pulling back. “Ten o’clock. We goin’ together. Wear something nice.”

“Elijah—”

“That’s the end of it, Annie.” But his voice was softer now, and he kissed her forehead. “Now finish getting ready. We got a gala to get to.”

He walked out, and Annie sat there, staring at her reflection.

At the expensive necklace around her throat.

At the desire in her body from his touch.

At the trapped look in her own eyes.

~The Next Day ~

Annie wore a dove gray dress with white gloves, hair pinned up neat, looking every inch the respectable wife of a successful man.

She felt sick the entire drive to Marcus Webb’s shop.

“Smile, angel,” Smoke murmured as they walked up to the door. “You look like you headin’ to a funeral.”

The bell chimed as they entered, and Marcus looked up from behind the counter, his expression shifting when he saw who it was.

“Mr. Moore,” he said, straightening immediately. “Mrs. Moore. Good morning.”

“Morning, Marcus.” Smoke’s hand was firm on Annie’s lower back. “We here about that arrangement my wife made with you.”

Marcus’s eyes flicked to Annie, then back to Smoke. “Oh. Yes, sir. The chamomile blend for some lace and—”

“There’s been a change of plans,” Smoke cut in smoothly. “My wife won’t be trading her remedies. Instead, I’ll be purchasing whatever she needs. Cash.”

“Oh.” Marcus cleared his throat. “Of course, sir. That’s—that’s no problem at all.”

“Good.” Smoke looked at Annie. “Show him what you wanted, baby.”

Annie wanted to die. Two other women were in the shop, pretending to browse but clearly listening to every word. She recognized one of them—Judith Hayes, known for spreading gossip faster than wildfire.

“The ivory lace,” Annie said quietly. “And the pearl buttons.”

“Excellent choices,” Marcus said, moving to get them. 

“Your wife has wonderful taste, Mr. Moore.”

“I know she does.” Smoke’s hand stayed on Annie’s back, possessive and warm. “That’s why I make sure she has access to the best. Don’t I, angel?”

“Yes,” Annie whispered.

Marcus wrapped the items carefully while Smoke pulled out his billfold—thick with cash, more than necessary, making a point.

“How much?”

“Oh, it’s—let me see—” Marcus calculated quickly. “Twelve dollars total.”

Smoke pulled out a twenty, set it on the counter. “Keep the change.”

“Sir, that’s too much—”

“For the inconvenience,” Smoke said smoothly. “And to make sure we all understand—my wife don’t need to trade for nothing. Anything she wants, I provide.”

“Yes, sir. It’s very clear.”

“Good.” Smoke picked up the wrapped package, handed it to Annie. “Anything else you need while we’re here, baby?”

Annie shook her head, neck hot.

“Then let’s go.” He nodded to Marcus. “Good doing business with you.”

As they left, Annie could feel Judith’s eyes on her back. Could practically hear the story being formed—how Elijah Moore had come in to pay for his wife’s purchases, how he’d made it clear she was taken care of, how he’d shown everyone who was in charge.

In the car, Smoke’s hand found hers.

“See?” he said quietly. “That wasn’t so bad.”

Annie stared out the window, the package in her lap feeling heavier than it should.

“You understand now?” he continued. “Why I needed to do that?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Good girl.” He squeezed her hand. “Next time you want something, you buy it. Because your husband makes sure you got the money for it. You understand?”

“I understand.”

He lifted her hand to his lips, kissed her knuckles. “That’s my girl.”

And Annie sat there, the expensive necklace from last night still around her throat, and wondered why being taken care of felt so much like being owned.

By the time they got home, Smoke’s mood had shifted—satisfied, pleased. He pulled her into the kitchen, pressed her against the counter, kissed her until she was breathless.

“You looked so pretty in that shop,” he murmured against her mouth. “Standing there in that dress, wearing my necklace. Everybody knowing you mine.”

And despite everything—despite the embarrassment, despite the control, despite the way her independence seemed to slip further away every day—Annie’s body responded to him.

Because that was the most confusing part.

She hated what he did.

But she loved him when he did it.

—-

Annie’s fingers twisted in her lap uselessly. As they always did when Smoke fed her.

“What’d you get into today, doll?”

“Spent some time working on my cinnamon rolls.”

His mouth ticked up.

“You likin’ that good cinnamon I got you then?”

She smiled and hit him on his chest.

“It’s real nice. Smells—different than the normal one.”

“Mhm. I’ll have to keep picking it up for you then.” As if cinnamon from across the seas was plenty. Like flour or sugar.

“Another expensive thing you’ll keep spoiling me with.” She said with disapproval. 

“You deserve it. You worth every penny and more.” He had that look in his eyes. The one that scared Annie a bit. That deep devotion.

Then he held the fork to her lips once more.

Annie had long given up fighting Smoke’s obsessive tendencies. He was always… intense. She knew that. But the longer they stayed together, the worse it got. 

Yet still she tried. 

“Was thinking… of goin’ to the beach with the girls this weekend.”

She watched him grip the fork tighter.

“No.”

“Elijah you —“

“I said no.”

“You didn’t even let me finish.” She deadpanned. 

“Don’t need to. I look like the type of man that lets his woman run around in public half naked?”

“Smoke, it’s just a bathing suit—”

“Exactly.” His voice was calm. Too calm. “And every man on that beach gon’ be looking at you in it.”

“They not gonna—”

“Annie.” He set the fork down, turned to face her fully. 

“You think I’m stupid? You know how men think. You know what they see when they look at you.”

Her stomach twisted. “So I’m just supposed to stay here? Never go anywhere?”

“You can go plenty of places. Just not half-dressed in front of strangers.”

“Pearl and them are going—”

“Pearl and them ain’t my concern. You are.”

“This ain’t fair.”

“Life ain’t fair, angel.” He picked up the fork again, held it to her lips. “Eat.”

She turned her head away. “I’m not hungry anymore.” Crossing her arms. 

His hand caught her chin—not rough, but firm. Turned her face back to him.

“Don’t be childish,” he said quietly. “You need to eat.”

“I said I’m not—”

“And I said eat.” His thumb stroked her jaw, gentle despite the steel in his voice. “I ain’t gon’ ask again.”

Annie’s eyes filled with tears, but she opened her mouth.

He fed her the bite, watching her chew, his expression softening slightly.

“There you are,” he murmured. “See? That ain’t so hard.”

The humiliation burned in her chest. 

Later that night, Annie tried again.

“What if we compromised?” she said as they got ready for bed. “What if I wore something more… modest? A swimming dress instead of—”

Smoke didn’t even look up from unbuttoning his shirt. “We already talked about this.”

“No, you talked. I ain’t get to—”

“Because there ain’t nothing more to discuss.” He turned to her now, and something in his expression made her step back. 

“You think I’m bein’ unreasonable? You think I’m too controlling?”

“Yes.” She hissed. 

“You rather be with a man that don’t give a damn?”

“I ain’t say that—”

“You ain’t have to.” He moved closer, and Annie’s back hit the vanity. “But let me explain something to you, angel. Every day, I make sure you safe, make sure you provided for, make sure nobody even thinks about disrespecting you.”

His hand came up to cup her face, thumb brushing her cheek.

“And you wanna go parade around in front of strangers? In a bathing suit? Where I can’t protect you? Where any man can look at you, think about you, want you?”

“Smoke, it’s not like that—”

“It’s exactly like that.” His voice was soft now, almost tender. “And the fact that you don’t see it? That’s exactly why I gotta be strict with you. Because you too sweet, too trusting. You don’t understand how men are. How the world is...”

“I understand—”

“No, baby, you don’t.” He leaned in, pressed a kiss to her forehead. “But that’s alright. That’s what I’m here for. To understand for both of us. To keep you safe even when you don’t realize you need keeping safe.”

Annie’s throat was tight, eyes shinning with tears. “I just wanted one day. One day with my friends.”

“And I gave you an alternative.” His hands moved to her shoulders, rubbing gently. “I already told you. Why they can’t come here? I got you a creek on the property. It’s private. Quiet. And it’s safe.”

“Smoke, it ain’t the same!”

“It’s gon’ have to be the same.” His voice hardened. “You ain’t goin’ to no public beach ass naked.”

“You can’t just—”

“I can and I am.” He pulled back, started finishing unbuttoning his shirt. “Discussion’s over. You wanna invite your friends here for a swim day, that’s fine. But you ain’t goin’ out there half-dressed where I can’t see you.”

“So I’m a prisoner now?”

He turned sharply, and the look on his face made her flinch.

“A prisoner?” His voice was dangerously quiet. “A prisoner. In a house I built for you? Wearing clothes I bought you? Eating food I provide? That’s what you think this is?”

“I didn’t mean—”

“No, you said it. So let’s talk about it.” He moved closer, and Annie pressed back against the vanity. “A prisoner don’t got her own house. Don’t got her own bank account with money in it every month. Don’t got a man who worships the ground she walks on and would kill for her without thinking twice.”

“Smoke, please—”

“A prisoner don’t got choices, Annie. But you got choices. You can invite your friends here, swim in private, be safe. Or you can pout about not getting your way like a child.”

Tears spilled over. “Stop it. Please.” 

His expression shifted immediately, softening. “Don’t cry.”

“Then stop making me cry!” She snapped annoyed at herself for showing weakness. 

“Then stop workin’ my nerves!” His voice rose, and she sobbed harder. He ran a hand over his face, exhaled hard.

“Ion like making you cry, angel. You know that.”

“Then why do you keep doing it?” She whispered. 

“Why you keep pushin’?”He cupped her face in both hands, made her look at him. “You keep trying to do things that ain’t safe, Then I try to protect you, you act like I’m the villain.”

“You are smothering me,” she whispered.

Something flickered across his face—hurt, maybe, or anger. Then it was gone, replaced by that calm, controlled expression.

“I’m goin’ to bed, Annie.”

“Smoke—”

“I’m goin’ to bed.” He stepped back, turned away. “I’ll sleeping in my study tonight. Wouldn’t want to… smother.”

He walked out, and Annie was left standing there, crying in their bedroom, feeling like she’d done something wrong even though she wasn’t sure what.

Chapter 2 >>> Coming Soon. _________

A/N This is part 1 of 3 chapters. You know me, working and posting everything but what I'm supposed to be posting. I do want to say, I promise, I will write every submission, nudge or recommendation ya'll send my way. It may take me a little time, but I'll defintely do them. I don't take ya'll for granted. Thank you for your patience with me <3 If you want to know how this story will go check out the original post HERE. ___

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He didn’t need to know what was said.

Didn’t even need to know who said it.

Smoke drove with both hands on the wheel, grip steady on the leather. The door of the Colored schoolhouse swung open in its hinges before fitting into its frame, and he walked through the threshold with a quiet determination. He wasn’t there to argue. He was there to be clear; to shut an old door he never meant to leave cracked open in the first place.

The kids were long gone. All that remained was the ghost of their feet shuffling against the floorboards and the echo of high-pitched laughter. And her. She sat at the desk at the front of the classroom with a stack of papers and a thick red pencil, making straight lines across words with clean, even strokes, and just the right amount of pressure. 

Sunlight cut across the empty desks, catching the chalk dust that still hovered in the air. The classroom was quiet, but it wasn’t empty. History, resentment, and two different versions of the truth hung between the two of them like a physical weight that made the room feel smaller. It pressed against the walls and the lone window on the side of the building like it could feel the tension brewing and wanted out.

Smoke cleared his throat. 

She scoffed. A quiet, annoyed expulsion of breath. Then she looked up, and when her eyes met his they held his gaze, then went up and down his form slowly. Canvassing, maybe. Taking in the seriousness in his posture. Taking notice of the cold calm he carried.

“Demetria.” Smoke’s voice was cold too, which wasn’t out of the ordinary. It usually was. But this kind of cold was more resolve than anything. 

“Smoke,” she said back. 

“We need to talk.”

“Well, hello to you too,” she said sharply.

“Hey,” he said. “We need to talk,” he repeated, tone flat.

She sat back in her chair and crossed her arms. “About?” she asked with a challenge in her tone.

“Us.”

The word made her lean forward on her elbows. 

“I just came to say we’re done. For good this time,” he said firmly. He opened his mouth, then closed it, like he had something more to say but decided against it. 

“That’s it?” The look on her face went from amusement to surprise to something else in the span of a few seconds. “That’s all you have to say to me?”

“I’m sorry it took so long for me to say out loud. I should have said it sooner. That’s on me. But we been done a while. You know that.”

“You always did think silence was kinder than the truth,” she fired back. 

Smoke hung his head. Because she wasn’t wrong. Her anger, he could take on the chest. He at least owed her that. 

“Look, I don’t know what’s been said or who you been sayin’ it to,” he started. “But whatever’s been said, I’m here to put it to rest.” 

Something flashed across her face and left just as quickly. Recognition. And the sinking feeling of dread. “You must got somebody you care about a whole lot, to come all the way over here just so you could say it plain,” she said. “She know about me?” 

“I’m sayin’ it now,” he said, voice low. 

“Does she know about me?” She asked again. A little louder this time.

Smoke’s jaw ticked. 

“So there is somebody else,” she said carefully.

Smoke didn’t answer. 

She studied his face for anything— regret, sadness, anything. She closed her eyes to keep her composure and shook her head like it would somehow make the sting go away. It didn’t. But she put her dignity back on anyway.

“Well,” she said, almost breathless. “There it is.”

Smoke nodded once. Demetria looked at him like she couldn’t recognize the shape of the man standing in front of her anymore, then she went back to her papers with the same measured carefulness she always used. The force of her pen made the paper crackle on the desk. Her corrections felt more personal now. Like she was trying to cross him out of her life one red line at a time.

“You take care.”

“Or not,” she snapped.

Smoke nodded like he accepted the ire, then he turned towards the entrance. He walked into the cool Mississippi air outside and away from the tension that sat between them, ready to snap like a rubber band pulled taut. And when he closed the door to the schoolhouse behind him, he made sure it shut all the way.

“Mwen kontan.” 

She said it in such a sultry, whispery tone. Not on purpose, that’s just how Annie’s voice sounded to Smoke. Alluring and fragrant, like the scent of the magnolia blossoms scattered around them on the ground. 

It was an early Sunday evening in November. The magnolia tree that stood tall on the side of the boarding house was changing. Its delicate, white petals drifted loose from the branches overhead and fell soft into the yard like the last bit of summer was shedding itself, piece by piece.

They sat on her patchwork quilt under the remaining shade of the tree. Annie had her knees tucked beneath her, her new sketchbook open on her lap. Smoke was across from her, one knee up, forearm casually resting over it. His eyes were anything but casual, narrowed with a fierce concentration. A lantern sat close by the edge of the quilt. Its flame burned low and steady, painting gold shadows over the pages of Annie’s sketchbook and the tips of her fingers.

“Hold on,” Smoke fussed. “You gotta say it slower.” 

Annie chuckled. “Mweh con-tan,” she sounded out slowly.

Smoke was staring at her lips, trying to mimic the way she formed the words when she spoke. She was amused by his focus. Impressed. He had it in everything he did. That bitter resolve. 

“What that mean?” 

“It means I’m happy.”

“Mwen-kun-tin,” he tried.

Annie winced. “Close, but…just try it again,” she urged.

“No,” Smoke said flatly.

“Why not?”

“I said it just how you said it.”

“No,” Annie shook her head. “You didn’t.” 

Smoke’s mouth twitched. He looked away before it could fully turn into a smile. “Sounded close enough to me,” he grumbled. 

“Mweh con-tan,” she said slower.

“Mwen kun-tan,” he repeated.

Annie bit the inside of her cheek. He was doing it on purpose, with his stubborn self. 

“You laughin’ at me?” Smoke asked bitterly.

“No.”

“Yeah…you are.”

“Am not.”

A magnolia petal landed on the page. Smoke picked it up without thinking, turned it once in his hand, then placed it on the quilt like he was afraid to hold it too long for fear he’d crush it in his hands. 

“Say it again.”

“You’re enjoyin’ this too much,” he huffed.

“And you bein’ difficult on purpose.”

“Mm.”

“Mm,” she said louder. She laughed softly and shaded something with her pencil near the corner of the page. It was a sketch of the shape of his mouth. Just the corner and how it curved around the sound he kept getting wrong. How he’d pushed a nasal sound outward instead of dropping it down.

Smoke shifted closer by a fraction, looking down to the sketchbook curiously. “Can I see?”

Her fingers tightened around it out of instinct. 

“You ain’t got to.”

The gentleness in his words made her look up. Made her grip loosen. She turned the sketchbook towards him, setting it between them. On the page wasn’t just one drawing. There were several spread across the paper. The curve of a leaf. The twist of a root. The slope of a hand pouring tea. Felix curled up on the porch. Halfway tucked in the pages was a loose leaf drawing of the inside of a small house. Smoke stared at that one the longest. He knew instantly what it was. He’d seen her sketch of the outside of her shop before. But this one was different.  She pulled it out from where it was wedged and placed it in her lap. 

Bundles hanging from the ceiling on one side. 

A long counter in front. 

A curtain that led to other rooms. 

Small jars lined up neatly on shelves. 

He took in every section, every detail. 

“Your shop,” he said finally.

“One day,” Annie replied shyly. 

“One day, when?” 

Annie looked up. “When I got enough saved. When I know enough,” she listed off. “When Aunt Della thinks I’m ready. When…” she huffed out a breath softly. “When the world lets me, I guess.”

Smoke’s jaw worked. 

“It wouldn’t just be remedies,” she said, rushing to fill the quiet before it got too loud. “I’d sell teas, salves, tonics, food, too. It wouldn’t just be a shop,” she continued, searching for words that would land. “It’d be somewhere people can come when they got things they ain’t ready to say out loud, but they ready to stop lettin’ it hurt them.” 

Smoke kept quiet beside her. 

Annie took a deep breath. “My grandma had an apothecary. Nothin’ fancy,” she said softly. “Just a place where people came in whisperin’ and left breathin’ easier.”

Smoke watched her. Her eyes, the way they softened around certain words. Her hands, and how they fidgeted on the edge of the paper. He looked at the page again while she ran her finger lightly over the built-in shelves she drew. 

“I want that. Somethin’ with my name on it. Somethin’ I know how to keep.” 

He looked at her again. “You will,” he said firmly. 

The certainty in his voice made her go still. “You sound sure.”

“I am.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I know you.”

Annie tucked the drawing away and closed her sketchbook halfway, her hand smoothing over its cover. “You know some of me.”

Smoke nodded once. “I know enough.”

Silence settled between them again. Easy. Annie watched him for a moment, trying to read what had changed in his face. He looked the same mostly. Quiet. Steady. Shoulders still carrying that heaviness. But his eyes looked different.

He sat up straight and faced her. “Annie.” He said her name and she felt her heart thump hard in her chest. She couldn’t figure out why. He’d said her name a million times, but he’d never said it quite like this.

“Yes?” she replied. 

“I talked to your aunt.”

“About what?”

“You.”

The night moved around them. Crickets chirping in the trees, distant voices from a house down the street. Dogs barking, chickens roosting. It all seemed to quiet around this very moment.

“I told her I wanna court you. Proper.”

“You did?”

“I did.”

“And now?” she asked quietly.

“Now I’m comin’ to you.” 

He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, eyes piercing. “I ain’t askin’ you for nothin’ you don’t wanna give,” he said. “And I ain’t askin’ you to stop what you been showin’ me.” 

Annie’s throat tightened. “That matter to you?”

Smoke’s eyes moved to the sketchbook, then back to her. “It matters to you,” he said plainly. “It matters to me.”

“I thought you ain’t believe in all that stuff,” she said. “Hoodoo.” 

“I don’t.” He shrugged. “I believe in you.” 

Annie drew in a small breath, tilting her chin up a little. “What does courtin’ mean to you?”

Smoke took his time to answer.  

“It means I come correct. I don’t sneak around corners with you. Don’t have folks guessin’ what you mean to me.  It means if I spend time with you, it’s cause I’m serious about you.” 

“You are?” 

“I am.”

She looked at him— a silent urge to keep talking, like he wasn’t already undoing her under this magnolia tree.

“I ain’t sayin’ I got everything figured out. I don’t. I got work that ain’t clean. I got Stack.” His mouth tightened faintly. “And I got things I still need to make right before I can ask for more than this.”

He sighed. “But I know what I mean,” he said. “And I don’t mean to waste your time.” 

Annie looked down at the sketchbook in her lap. This man, whose words always held weight, had looked closely at her dreams sketched in graphite and smudged lines and simply said —he wanted to be part of them. 

She looked back at him. “If I say yes,” she said slowly. “I want my shop. I want my work. I want…I wanna be somebody outside of who I’m with.” 

“You already are,” he said, voice low.

Annie blinked.

His voice stayed low. “I ain’t askin’ to make you smaller.”

Annie’s breath caught. “Then what you askin’?”

He paused for a moment, then— “To walk beside you while you grow.” 

The silence that sat between them wasn’t empty. It was so full that Annie had to look away just so she could breathe. 

That’s when she felt it.

A nervous laugh.

It rose up in her throat— not because anything was funny, but because the weight of this moment was so heavy, she had to lighten it somehow before it swallowed her whole. She tried to suppress it, but the corners of her mouth had already turned up.

“You laughin’ at me?”

He noticed. Of course he did.

“No!”

Smoke’s mouth twitched. “Yes you are.”

“No I’m not!”

“You a bad liar.”

“I'm not lyin'...you just...makin’ me nervous right now,” she admitted softly.

His eyes softened. “You can take your time to think about it.”

Annie shook her head immediately. “No,” she said. “I don’t need time,” she assured him. 

His eyes got serious again.

“I’ll let you court me.”

Something moved across his face. Not quite a smile. Something much more dangerous to her composure. “Yeah?”

Annie’s lips curved into a fully encompassing smile that spread gently across her face. “Yeah.” 

He held out his hand for her. A question. She put her hand in his and they laced their fingers together carefully, palms warm and steady against each other. The answer.

The tree shed another petal. It drifted down between them and landed on their intertwined hands. They didn’t move it. The lantern burned low. They sat like that beneath the magnolia tree as the last of summer continued to fall around them.

The next morning was a blur. Between the demands of empty stomachs and the nervous tremor of her own hands, a nagging anxiety sat on her shoulders and butterflies fluttered violently in the pit of her belly. A sigh of relief left her lips as the last lodger headed out the door, leaving her and Aunt Della to at least be able to clean up the kitchen and dining room in a tempered silence. 

The wind chimes on the porch fluttered in the breeze, whistling a throaty, breathless jingle that did nothing to calm her nerves. Aunt Della glanced her way a few times, but said nothing. Even Felix tried to soothe her, his purrs doing little to bring her any real solace. 

Annie shoved a biscuit in her mouth to give herself something to do. The warm fluffiness filled her mouth and the butter satisfied her tastebuds with its rich, melty goodness. She sighed then took another bite, closing her eyes as the sustenance moved through her body.

Maybe she was just hungry. And maybe her anxiousness had nothing to do with him.

She moved quicker, stacking, sweeping, wiping, scraping until the house smelled like eucalyptus, lavender, and bleach.

Annie collapsed on the couch in the front room, but not from exhaustion. From adrenaline that had nowhere else to go. Her heart beat rapidly and she fingered her ileke beads like that could somehow calm it. Morning light cut warm and light through the front windows like a balm on her skin. She tilted her head back and let her eyes close, basking in the quiet after the chaos of breakfast. 

The scent of tobacco, peppermint, and bay rum floated through the screen door. Slowly—like the rich, layered smells that arrive in a kitchen when meat, butter and herbs fold into each other on the stove.

Then the screen door cracked open and Smoke stepped through. 

Annie’s mouth went dry.

The first thing she noticed was the way he darkened the doorway once he stepped past the threshold. He was tall, well over six feet. Large and imposing frame, and even though she was a tall woman herself, it felt like he towered over her. The muscles on his arms and shoulders filled out every inch of his white collared shirt, pressing against the starched fabric with a powerful, restrained strength. His suspenders held up trousers that sat comfortably around his hips. His boots were heavy on his feet even though his steps were light. It was a subtle contradiction that made her tongue feel like cotton in her mouth. 

The second thing she noticed were the flowers in his hand. Two separate arrangements— one a mixture of white, cream, and greenery. The other was a mixture of vivid colors that looked like a rainbow painted the petals. Each was wrapped in brown paper and tied gently with twine.

Smoke removed his hat and turned to see Annie spread lazily across the couch. Apron halfway untied, scarf to the side, legs hanging off the edge, dress tracing the curve of her hips. She looked beautiful with her feet dangling in the air, bent nickel hanging loosely off a string around her left ankle, shoulders relaxed like she didn’t have a care in the world. He liked that look. Wanted to see more of it.

He was doing that staring thing again, Annie thought to herself. The way his eyes slowly swept up and down her body gave her goosebumps, and she suddenly became very aware of how she was presenting. Worn dress, apron smudged with stains, hair fuzzy in her cornrows, barefoot and lounging on the couch. But the heat in his eyes turned a casual glance-over into a smoldering glare that pinned her in place. The paper around the bouquets crinkled under his grasp as he adjusted them in his hand. When his voice finally broke the loaded silence that had overtaken the front room of the boarding house, it was rough with something that made her spine snap straight. Her legs followed, then her hands, dragging her upwards until she was sitting up completely.

“Good mornin’.” 

Annie smiled up at him, a sight that beamed brighter than the morning sun. “Good mornin’.”

Smoke took a step closer, then two, and with one hand grabbed the white bouquet out of his other and extended them towards Annie. “For you.”

“Thank you,” she said, inhaling their scent. 

Smoke nodded once, then looked around the room. “Where’s your aunt?”

“Somewhere out back,” she said breathily, taking another sniff of the flowers. 

“These for her.”

“Awww, ain’t you sweet?”

“Don’t tell nobody,” he said in that low register that made her skin tingle, with a timbre that told her he wasn’t joking even though the corner of his mouth lifted when he said it. 

He proceeded into the kitchen then out the back door, leaving Annie with her own thoughts and the absence of…him. His presence stayed in the room even though he was gone, and it wasn’t just because the smell of his cologne lingered behind. Her head tilted when she realized what day it was. Monday. What was he doing here?

“What we doin’ today?” He asked as he stepped back into her space.

Annie’s breath stuttered.

Aunt Della listened in from the kitchen, looking entirely pleased with herself. 

Annie cleared her throat and shut her mouth that had opened at Smoke’s words. Not because she wasn’t used to him being forward. But because the look in his eye told her he was dead serious when he asked her that question.

“I gotta stop by Chow’s,” she started, to which he acknowledged with a nod. “Then the drugstore,” she continued. She listed things off until she stopped to look down at what she needed to do before anything else. “I gotta wash up first. Change.” 

“I’ma be right here,” he assured her, sinking deep into the couch, putting his head back, and spreading his legs. 

Annie took one more look at him and darted up the stairs.

Thirty minutes later she was in front of the mirror, blouse tucked into a halfway-fastened skirt. Her hair was taken down from her cornrows, oiled, greased, parted down the middle, and pulled back. 

Except one piece that just wouldn’t lay flat. 

She brushed it once, then brushed it again. It refused to lay right, refused to stay right. Her hairbrush clattered on the dresser where she dropped it. 

“What am I doing?” she asked like the walls could talk back. 

She gripped the edge of the dresser, then touched the open edge of her blouse still unbuttoned at the throat. Her fingers rested there a moment before she remembered to button it. 

Her fingers weren’t steady. She cursed under her breath, buttoning it with trembling hands. She smoothed the front down, turning to the side to make sure it was tucked all the way in. 

Then she picked up her hairbrush again. Went over the same spot. Got the same result. 

She threw her hairbrush down with frustration, flustered. 

All of a sudden she felt very alone. More alone than she’d felt since she got to Clarksdale. She tried to blink away the tears but one escaped her eye. It rolled down her cheek, dropping onto her dresser. 

She missed her friends from home. 

She missed her family.  

She didn't expect this. Didn’t expect him. 

And now she was standing in the middle of something new surrounded by people who barely knew her. No mama who always knew what to say. No brothers teasing. No daddy who would pretend it wasn’t making him emotional seeing his little girl stepping into her role as a woman.

Maybe it was a sign. 

She didn’t know what she was doing. She couldn’t even get her hair right without falling apart.

What did she know about being courted?

The word felt strange in her throat. New. Like a dress made out of fine fabric that she hadn’t yet learned how to move in. Like something she wanted to be careful with, to not wrinkle. Something she wanted to spin in front of the mirror just to see how it caught the light. 

And maybe, just maybe….if it fit just right, she could keep it.

Her stomach fluttered. 

She didn’t know what came after she said yes.

She’d heard stories from her friends back home, but she was never in the thick of it to look around and see how it felt. 

She didn’t know how close she was supposed to stand beside him, what folks would hear if he said her name too soft. Didn’t know if holding his hand would feel natural or if she’d overthink every step. She didn’t know what part of herself was meant to stay guarded and what part was allowed to lean.

But between the frustration, and the fear, and the homesickness that had a vice grip on her nerves…she still wanted to try.

That was the part that kept resurfacing.

She wanted it. Wanted him beside her. Wanted to be beside him. And she wanted folks to see.

The truth of it rose up so plainly, it didn’t leave room for her to argue with herself about it.

She wanted to know what Smoke looked like when he didn’t hold himself back so much. Wanted to learn what his quiet felt like when it belonged to her. Wanted to see if walking beside him in the daylight felt like sitting beside him under the magnolia tree in the backyard.

She rubbed her ileke beads and let the touch ground her. Then she put some oil on her fingers, the special blend her mama made that halfway leaked out in her trunk, and brushed the worrisome part of her hair the way her mama always did when she got too frustrated to do it herself. Rub, smooth, brush, set. 

She looked in the small, age-spotted mirror again, and her mouth curved up into a small, winsome smile.

Maybe she didn't know what she was doing.

But maybe the only thing she needed to do today was walk downstairs, meet his eyes, and take it one step at a time.

The floorboards upstairs groaned and Smoke’s head snapped towards the sound. He rose slowly from his spot on the couch, keeping his eyes trained on Annie as she walked down the stairs with a hand on the banister. 

His gaze moved over her. 

She wore a deep mustard-colored blouse tucked into a navy blue ankle-length skirt and high button leather boots. Her purse was slung over her shoulder and her skin still looked warm from her bath.

“You look nice.” 

“Thank you.”

“Real nice.”

Annie’s cheeks warmed. 

“Ready?” he asked.

Annie smiled once she got to the bottom of the staircase. “I’m ready.” 

Aunt Della stood in the threshold between the kitchen and the front room, arms crossed over her chest. Her eyes went from Smoke to Annie and back. “Y’all don’t have too much fun out there,” she smirked. “And watch my baby,” she said to Smoke.

“I will,” Smoke said as he put his hat back. He opened the door for Annie and stepped back to turn to Aunt Della. “Always.” 

Aunt Della shook her head playfully and turned back to the kitchen, arms still folded but a grin on her lips. 

The ride over to Fourth Street was quick—just two short blocks. People in front of Chow’s Grocery were few and far between, but the sidewalk was far from empty. Outside, business moved as usual. A vendor restocked produce while a worker inspected their freshness. A few customers left the store with items wrapped tightly in brown paper while their children skipped alongside them with peppermint sticks and molasses chews in hand. Wagons trekked by slowly with mounds of cotton in the back, and the constant hammering of picks chipping ice blocks apart echoed in the street.

Smoke rounded the front of his truck to open the door for Annie. He held up a hand for her to balance herself on and took care to make sure she was steady once she stepped out. He followed behind her as they walked to the entrance, his hand on the small of her back as he held the door for her.

The inside held the sweet pungency of chicory in burlap sacks being hauled from the back and piled high by the windows. Charles and Bo Chow stood behind the front counter, Charles weighing something on the scale while Bo wrote an entry in the ledger. A smirk spread across Bo’s face when he saw Smoke and Annie at the door and clocked their closeness. He nodded at Smoke, then slid his eyes over to Annie and waved at her, drawn by the warmth that always seemed to radiate off her. 

“Baby,” Smoke started, exchanging a look with Bo. “I need to go holler at Bo real quick.”

“Okay,” Annie responded in that sweet, syrupy Louisiana drawl of hers.

She drifted across the store looking at her list, then made her way down one of the aisles in search of something else entirely. Smoke watched her go, watched her disappear, replayed it in his head. Then he turned to Bo. He was wiping down a display as Charles rang up a customer at the till.

“How you been, man?” Bo asked.

“Good, good,” Smoke said. He greeted him with a firm handshake, then pulled back to get a good look at him. “Damn, fatherhood huh?”

“I look that bad?”

“You look like shit.”

Bo laughed, the corner of his eyes crinkling with it. He looked tired, but content in a way that made his eyes twinkle. Like he was at peace despite it all. “Tired as hell. But I’m happy,” he nodded. “We happy.” 

“I’m happy for you, Bo.”

“Thanks man,” Bo replied, shaking Smoke’s shoulder. His eyes flicked over the store. “Della’s girl…that’s you?”

“You mean Annie,” Smoke corrected. 

Surprise overtook Bo’s face and he raised an eyebrow. A question. “Yeah, I mean Annie.”

“Yeah,” he answered. Firm. “She mine.”

Bo clapped Smoke on the shoulder, looking at him with a sense of shock and awe. “Oh shit,” he exclaimed, putting a fist in front of his mouth. “Look at you, fixin’ to be in my shoes soon, Smoke.”

Smoke shot him a look as he walked away, but something in him got quiet when the thought crossed his mind. Then it got warm.

Annie, a mother.

Him. 

A father.

He shook the thought away just as quickly when they became poisoned by thoughts of his own father. 

That felt like a metaphor for his own life— innocence being corrupted by its own blood.

The thought of being a father after putting his own in the ground felt devastatingly ironic, but hope flickered somewhere that maybe it could rewrite whatever went wrong with his own.

He shook his head and kept walking through the store, his legs carrying him past the aisles in slow, measured steps. He didn’t rush. He knew exactly where Annie was. 

Annie was still reeling. 

From him calling her baby. From the way he said it with that deep Mississippi drawl. Her cheeks were warm, skin flushed, and all of a sudden, everything felt hot despite the store being cool.

She stood in the aisle, humming under her breath, half bent over as she flipped through a wire basket on a shelf filled with seed packets. 

“Why she want this when we got it in the backyard?” She fussed. 

She shook her head, plucked the seed packet from the stack, and stood up. They dropped into her shopping basket as she walked further down the aisle. She picked up the small bag of feed and saw a shadow out of the corner of her eye. She ignored it and went about her business crossing items off her list when she heard it.

“Hey stranger.”

She turned around.

Reverend Carter stepped around the corner.

Red button up, brown tweed waistcoat, gold pocket watch hanging. And that silver signet ring that he rubbed with the pad of his thumb. She looked down in his shopping basket and her brows knit at the contents inside. 

Her lips tightened into a line, that same odd sense of familiarity crept up on her again and made her insides tumble with unease. 

“Hey.” She adjusted the strap of her purse around her shoulder.

A grin spread across his face. “How you been?”

“Good,” she nodded. “You?”

Carter nodded like he was choosing his words carefully. “I’ve been doin’ just fine,” he said slowly.

Annie shifted her weight. “So you’re back?”

“For a little.” 

She blinked. “Where you speakin’ at this time?”

“Church off Yazoo,” he said quickly.

She frowned for a second, then relaxed her face. 

Carter chuckled under his breath. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“You stayin’ at the house?”

He smirked to the side then looked back. “I’m stayin’ with the pastor.”

“Makes sense.” 

“Yeah…makes perfect sense.”

His eyes dropped to her ileke beads, then back up. The glance was quick, barely even noticeable. But she did. The hand that wasn’t holding her basket rose to touch her beads protectively. 

Smoke noticed it too. 

He was at the top of the aisle, watching.

He saw Carter’s eyes dip to her chest. It was just a brief second, but the flicker made his chest tighten. 

He crossed the aisle in three long strides. He kept his eyes forward, locked on Carter who had sensed him looming and had since looked up from Annie. 

Smoke stepped behind her and wrapped an arm around her waist, the motion tucking her into his side. The gesture was smooth, natural, like her body had no business not being there all along.

Annie let out a quiet exhale. It was a short, controlled breath that made her shoulders relax.

Then she moved—but she didn’t move so much as melt. She relaxed back into Smoke’s touch, folding easily into him. His fingers curled around her hip, but his eyes didn’t leave Carter’s.

“Afternoon,” Carter said politely to Smoke.

Smoke just stared at him, his dark hooded eyes like black orbs piercing into the depths of whatever lay behind Carter’s. No nod. No acknowledgement. Just a cold, tactical assessment.

Carter blinked. “Y’all goin’ to the Harvest Party next month?”

“Yeah,” Annie replied quickly. She felt Smoke’s grip tighten on her hip.“We—”

“What business a preacher got at a juke joint?” Smoke asked, voice flat.

“I ain’t goin’,” Carter said, rubbing his signet ring. He looked down at it, then looked back up at them. “Just tryna make conversation.”

Smoke and Annie glanced at each other out of the corner of their eyes. 

“Well,” he said, tipping his hat. “Y’all have a good rest of your day.” 

Then he walked away.

The bustle of Chow’s went on around them but they didn’t hear it— like they only existed now in their own little bubble. Then Smoke dipped his head to her ear and pressed his lips there.

Three short kisses. Soft despite the intensity of the feeling behind them. Warm, from the closeness and something else entirely. They felt less like a kiss and more like a claim.

One right behind the ear, one lower on the skin right above the neck, and one right on the shell. His nose nuzzled there for a second before he opened his mouth and hummed right into her ear. Low, deep, right into the part of her ear that made his voice vibrate right down her spine. 

“You good?” 

“Mhmm,” she hummed.

She looked over her shoulder at him and his eyes were closed at the sound of her voice. She stroked his beard and his eyes opened to find hers darker. Her fingers grazed the shell of his ear. A gentle touch that made him fight off a shiver. 

“Behave,” he said, squeezing her hip gently.

Annie grinned. She turned away from his grasp and slinked out of the aisle like nothing happened. Then she glanced over her shoulder at him once more to bat her eyes at him before slipping completely out of his sight. Smoke stood there watching her walk away, his body still warm from where she rested against it. He flexed his hands at his sides to subdue the fire she stoked in him, then followed behind her.

Outside, the air smelled like spice and the bite of the chilly November air. Annie adjusted the paper-wrapped bundle from Chow’s against her hip and slipped it into her purse. Smoke stepped out behind her with the chicken feed sack tucked under his arm and the rest of Aunt Della’s order in his other hand like it weighed nothing. He watched a shiver run down Annie’s spine that she tried to hide.

“Cold?”

“A little.”

“Here.”

Smoke shrugged off his jacket and laid it over Annie’s shoulders as they walked towards his truck. The smell wafting from King’s Tamales Stand next door stopped Annie in her tracks as a man working the booth shouted his prices to folks passing by and wrapped hot tamales in paper. Warm masa, spice, meat steamed softly inside of corn husks. Steam curled up from a heavy pot blackened by use and hit the inside of the tin roof of the stand that had a crooked hand-painted sign attached to the front.

Smoke glanced at Annie. “Hungry?” 

Annie looked at him with those wide brown eyes of hers. Then her stomach answered before she got the chance. She scoffed, looking down at it like it betrayed her thoughts, then back up at Smoke. 

Smoke’s mouth twitched. “Come on.” He shifted the sack higher beneath his arm and stepped towards the stand. “How many you want?” 

“One.”

“Just one?”

Smoke looked towards the tamale man. “We’ll take four.”

Annie blinked. “Four?”

Smoke looked back at Annie. “I’m hungry, too.” 

The man behind the stand grinned like he’d seen this before. “Two for the gentleman, one for the lady now, and one for when she gets hungry later.”

“Exactly,” Smoke agreed.

Annie scoffed, looking away before a smile broke out on her face.

“Hot?” the man asked.

Smoke looked back at Annie again. She lifted her chin, offended despite herself. “Hot.”

Smoke looked back to the grinning man and nodded once. “Hot.”

“You think I wouldn’t like hot?”

“I didn’t know that’s why I asked.”

“You forget where I’m from?”

“I remember.”

The tamales came wrapped in paper, steam rising as the man passed them over to Smoke. He paid, coins dropping clean in the man’s palm. “Enjoy,” he said as they turned down the sidewalk. 

They walked a little ways down the side of the building, stopping by a patch of shade where the street noise softened around them. Smoke set Aunt Della’s things carefully by his feet, then handed Annie her tamales. He unwrapped his own with easy hands. Annie watched him without meaning to. The way he carefully peeled back the husk. The way the steam curled around his fingers. The way he took the first bite and let it sit in his mouth before he started chewing. He chewed once, twice, then nodded faintly to himself. 

“That good?”

“Mhmm.” He took another bite. 

Annie unwrapped hers, holding it carefully between her fingers as the heat bled through the paper. The first bite was soft and smoky. The cornmeal was tender, but not enough to fall through her fingers. The meat was rich with salt, pepper, and something earthy underneath. She chewed thoughtfully, her mouth analyzing every flavor. Smoke was already on his second tamale, but was chewing slower now, watching her. 

“What?” she asked.

“You makin’ a face.”

“I’m thinkin’.”

Smoke’s brows knit together. “About a tamale?”

“Mhmm.”

His mouth curved. “That so?”

“Absolutely.”

She took another bite, slower this time. “It’s good.”

Smoke nodded but kept his eyes trained on her for the—

“But.”

“I knew it.”

Annie smiled faintly. “It could use a lil’ more depth.”

“Depth?”

She nodded. “Depth.”

Smoke looked down at his half-eaten tamale then back up at Annie. “It’s a tamale.”

“And?”

Smoke looked amused now. He tilted his head. “What would you do to it?”

Annie shifted her weight. “I’d give it somethin’ to round out the pepper,” she said. “So it don’t just sit on top.”

Smoke just looked at her. “You always this particular?”

“With food? Yes.”

“And everything else?”

Annie opened her mouth, then closed it. She looked down at her tamale, then back at him. And when she spoke, her words came out softer than she expected them. “I know what I like.”

Smoke’s gaze hadn’t left her. “Good.” He took another bite, slowly. The cornmeal broke apart clean between his teeth. A long chunk of saucy meat landed on his tongue and he slurped it down his mouth without breaking eye contact.

“You starin’.”

Annie blinked. “Am not.”

“What you lookin’ at then?”

“You got somethin’ on your face.”

He ran a hand through his beard. “For real?” 

“It’s gone now.”

He couldn’t ignore the mirth in her eyes. She looked away, unwrapping the last tamale with more attention than it needed. The corner of Smoke’s mouth lifted. 

“Where I’m from, folks put more life into they food,” she said, turning back to him.

“More life?”

“Yep.”

“What that mean?”

“It means…” she said, looking towards the street like she could find the words there. “Food should taste like somebody remembered where they came from when they made it.”

“You sayin’ the people who made this…forgot where they came from?”

“No.” She smiled into her food. “They just knew wherever they was goin’ didn’t like it hot!”

Smoke huffed a laugh. Fourth Street moved around them, unconcerned. And the tension from inside of Chow’s softened into something easier. Something with steam, spice, and a little more kick. 

“I’ll make sure to let King know.”

Annie swatted his chest. “Smoke, don’t you dare!” 

When they were done eating, Smoke gathered Aunt Della’s order again and Annie threw the empty wrappers into a nearby waste barrel. She wiped her fingers against her handkerchief, the taste of pepper and cornmeal still heavy on her tongue. 

They left their items from Chow’s locked in Smoke’s truck, which he left in front of the grocery store at Annie’s insistence. Annie enjoyed the scenery as they walked leisurely towards the next stop on her list of errands. Smoke enjoyed the scenery too— her. Her hair, tucked into a thick bun, had tendrils hanging down the sides of her face that blew with the wind. One kept sticking to the shell of her ear, tickling her when it hit just right. The beads tucked under the neckline of her dress rattled if she moved a certain way. And she still had his jacket on to shield her from the wind. The sight of her walking around with his suit jacket draped over her shoulders did something to him that he couldn’t explain and didn’t want to. 

They neared the crossroad where Fourth Street met Issaquena, the street lined with shops for personal and grooming services. Luella’s Dressing Room & Alterations, Ritzy’s Beauty Salon, Brown’s Barbershop, and others sat along a row of close-knit brick and wooden storefronts with mended awnings and handmade signs.

The noise of the street got louder as they approached the block where Luella’s and Ritzy’s stood across from the barbershop. Or maybe it was just the noise in Annie’s head. She walked closest to the sidewalk with Smoke right beside her, watching her closely. His hand would find her lower back if he saw her steps falter or slow. They dodged some kids roughhousing, a stand or a low hanging sign, a crack in the sidewalk.

The area in front of the barbershop was full of men standing on lampposts smoking cigarettes, people watching, and chatting each other up. Suspenders loose or off, hats sitting low, legs bent, feet on the brick barbershop building while they waited their turn. The striped pole outside spun slowly with the wind. The smell of shaving soap, pomade, and hot comb smoke drifted upwards from the barbershop and the beauty salon across the street. The men outside let their eyes wander when Annie approached them on the sidewalk— and froze when they saw Smoke right next to her. Conversations paused, necks craned slowly. Smoke guided her through the crowd that parted for them with his hand at her back. The men acknowledged him, some giving him daps, others giving a firm nod. Some said a few polite words, tipping their hats and greeting them both as they walked by. But Smoke kept his hands on Annie. Always on her. 

Sunflower Music was painted in gold lettering on a black wooden sign that hung perpendicular to the sidewalk. The awning was a muted red, the color faded by the sun and wear, and stuck out of a narrow brick storefront with tall display windows in the front. Folks walking by would just stop and stare at what was inside— sheet music, instruments, phonographs, a lone Columbia Graphophone. Stacks of records displayed like treasure. Once the shop bell guided them through the door, the smell of paper, varnished wood, and cigars turned the crisp winter air to something with more bite. The space was long and spread out. Wooden floors. Pressed-tin ceiling. Ceiling fans turning slowly overhead. Most of the displays were spread out across the walls except a few items that were secured behind glass cases and oak cabinets shined to a mirror finish. 

A musician tested out strings by the wall where the instruments were displayed. A few church mothers Annie recognized from First Baptist Missionary were flipping carefully through church hymn sheet music displayed in stands on the other side of the shop. 

The owner stood by one of many phonographs with a record in his hands. He placed it in one, cranked the machine, and dropped the needle, all in one smooth, practiced motion. The customer standing next to him waited for the beat to drop. The record spun, the sound cracked slightly, then the smooth sound of a brass band spread throughout the room. Annie paused. The customer bopped his head to the fast-paced, soulful music coming from the phonograph speakers. 

Then the cornet solo hit.

Annie stilled entirely. 

The sound of conversation faded away, even the pointed looks of the church mothers who recognized her walking hand-in-hand with Smoke, she paid no mind. The familiarity of the music made her chest twist painfully. It sounded like home. Felt like it too. Like street musicians, second line parades, and rain hitting tin roofs during summer storms. 

“Annie?” he asked, voice low. He touched the small of her back.

Once she caught her breath, she whispered, “Yeah.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” she replied, blinking back the tear that threatened to drop from her left eye. “Just reminds me of home.” She blinked and she could see it clearly. A rickety old shack. The fierce, stubborn, woman who lived inside who felt more like a spirit than a memory. “My great-grandmama,” she said a little softer. “Before she passed…she loved listening to the cornet. I don’t know why but that was the only instrument that made her face light up no matter how out of it she was.”

Smoke rubbed her lower back and they moved deeper in the store but Annie felt like she was walking through water. They ended up by the stack of records which stood close to the instruments along the wall. 

“That’s the thing about music,” he said. “It has a way of bringin’ you back to somebody, even after they long gone.”

Annie exhaled sharply. She went through the Vaudeville records but she wasn’t really looking. Smoke stood by her side, facing her, waiting. 

“We lost her to the hurricane. Back in ‘15.” 

“I’m sorry.”

“She wouldn’t leave.” Her voice cracked. 

“What you mean?”

Annie took a deep breath.

“She lived deep in the bayou. Water filled with gators,” she chuckled, shaking her head. “She knew the storm was comin’ before it did. Said if the water’s fixin’ to take her she ain’t gon’ run.” 

Annie looked towards the window like the memory called her there for some reason. “She said she had somebody on the other side waitin’ on her.” 

Smoke nodded once, eyes patient. “You know who?”

“No,” she said. “She was sold downriver ‘fo she could remember anyone.”

“Damn,” Smoke whispered. 

She smiled. It was faint, like it was pushing through the grief. “She was alone her whole life…’til she started having babies.”

“How many?”

“Fourteen.”

Smoke whistled low.

Annie hummed. “She was somethin’ else.”

The memory of her great-grandmother flashed quickly through her mind like a blur. Eyes that looked different…older than her age, and much younger at the same time. Her frail hands dragging a stick through swamp mud, leaving marks that looked less drawn than remembered.

“What was her name?”

Annie blinked and it was gone. Her hand rose to her ileke beads again, then she looked up at Smoke with the softest, widest, brown eyes, and the tenderness in them made him sigh. 

“Antoinette,” she said finally. Like the name pulled something out of her that made her hesitate to say it out loud.

Smoke rubbed her shoulder, pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. 

Annie put a hand on his chest, leaning into his touch. 

They let the silence sit between them for a few moments. Let the quiet ache until it dulled into something easier to move on from.

“Anyway,” she said finally, pulling herself together. “Let’s get what I came here for.” Her fingers walked the records in search of the ragtime one Aunt Della wanted.

“What kinda music they listen to, over there in France?”

“They liked a lot of the stuff we brought over.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Our regiment had a band and everything.” 

“Were you in it?” She teased.

His mouth twitched. “Nah.” 

The musician testing out guitars hit a chord with a slider that made Smoke’s hand tap once against the record box before he caught himself. He looked at Annie and she was already looking at him. 

“What?” he asked.

Annie arched her brow. “You like that?”

“It’s nice.”

“Why?”

Smoke exhaled. “It’s slow. Got a little ache to it.”

Annie chuckled low.

The guitar player took his slider off and played something a little louder, a little faster, a deep Blues riff.

“You like this one, too?” 

“This more Stack’s style.”

“Mmmhmmm.”

“What?”

“It’s more Stack’s style but your hand been tappin’ away since he started playin’.” 

Smoke looked down at his hand then back to Annie. “Don’t mean I can’t enjoy it.”

“You right,” she smirked. “But you tappin’ along like you know this song by heart.”

“I do.” 

Annie frowned. “From where?”

“My daddy.” He paused. Looked down. Sighed. “He played the guitar.”

“Oh,” she mouthed. She heard something in his words even though his voice was steady. Pain. Shame. Guilt. Loss. Whatever it was, it weighed heavy.

His jaw tightened. “Back then…” he drifted off. “The music felt kinder than the man.” His eyes found her again.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly.

Annie rubbed his arm, then pulled it around her. The gesture made his shoulders relax, and she wrapped her arms around his chest. “Elijah,” she whispered up to him.

His name on her lips felt as warm as her hand on his chest. 

“Hmm,” he answered, looking off into the distance.

She rubbed his back. “You alright?” she asked quietly.

He looked down at her, then wrapped his arms around her tighter. 

“Yeah,” he said into her hair. He inhaled her scent—jasmine, rosewater, and vanilla.

Annie didn't push. Just let him stay in the moment a little longer, with her to hold onto.

Across the room, one of the church mothers cleared her throat entirely too loud, and just like that the tenderness snapped. Smoke and Annie both frowned, then looked over with expectant gazes. One cold, one more curious but still annoyed. The church mother’s mouth snapped shut and she scoffed, turning back around. Smoke and Annie both laughed as they walked towards the register, his arm around her shoulder.

“I’ma get an earful on Sunday ‘cause of you,” Annie joked, lacing her fingers with the ones hanging over her shoulder.

“They need to mind they own business,” Smoke said. Loudly. Right towards where they were congregating off to the side by the sheet music.

Their heads snapped over immediately.

Annie swatted his chest.

“What?”

“Lord,” she mumbled. “You was just tellin’ me to behave and you out here talkin’ crazy.”

“Tell the truth, shame the devil. Ain’t that what they say?”

“Smoke!” She tried swatting at him again. This time he caught her hand, brought it to his lips, and kissed it. Annie rolled her eyes but she couldn’t stop a grin from spreading on her face.

“Nuh-uh,” his voice dropped low, right by her ear again. “You know my name.”

Her breath hitched.

“Mhmm,” he drawled.

They stepped to the register. 

“Find everything you were lookin’ for?” The clerk asked. 

The words sat between them. Smoke looked at Annie.

“Yeah,” Annie said. “Just this.”

“This a good record,” he remarked. “Classic.” He set the W.C. Handy record in its sleeve, then wrapped it twice in newspaper.

Annie listened.

“His band still play around town, in Tutwiler, and down in Mound Bayou.”

Smoke’s jaw clenched, then unclenched. Annie saw it. Saved it for later.

“Bayou?” she asked.

“Mound Bayou. All black town, just a little ways south of here,” the clerk remarked. 

Annie nodded curiously.

The clerk slipped the record in a brown paper bag. “That’ll be 75 cent.” 

Smoke had it in the man’s hand before Annie could pull out her pocketbook. He watched her hesitate and shot her a look that dared her to pull her own money out. That’s all she needed to see to keep her hand right where it was— wrapped tightly in his. 

Smoke kissed her hand again before grabbing the bag.

“Y’all have a nice day,” the clerk said.

They turned to leave a few minutes later, bags between them as they fell in step beside each other. They didn’t talk much, but their hands stayed laced, like they both needed to touch the piece of themselves they just shared. When they stepped out of the building and the noise of the street came back, the moment didn’t disappear. It just followed them out into the cold. The chilly air whipped wildly across their faces, but it did nothing to cool the heat rising between them, or the thrum that sat underneath all the tension.

A month went by, but not quietly.

The air got colder. November flew by like a gust of wind off the gulf where Annie used to catch crabs with her brothers when she was a little girl. The house got louder. Out of towners, people trying to get up North before the snow up there delayed the trains. Blackbird got busier. Annie kept storing her money in the tea tin that fit perfectly under the floorboard in her room. Soon she’d have to get a bigger one, she thought to herself. And find another hiding place.

Annie’s lessons with Aunt Della continued behind padlocked doors. 

Dress fittings at Luella’s became less frequent as her Harvest Party look came together. 

Smoke got busy, too. Quiet meetings on the outskirts of town. Trips to Memphis and business at Moon Lake. He came around the boarding house even more. This time he didn’t need to feign usefulness.

Meetings under the magnolia tree became their ritual. Every Sunday when the afternoon stretched its arms out into evening he’d come around back. Like clockwork, he’d show up, the side fence creaking open before he stepped through. They’d sit outside and talk until the mosquitos got too bad.

It became a place where they shared pieces of themselves. 

A place where ordinary conversation became sacred. 

Nellie, Pearline and Gigi squealed when she finally told them about Smoke. And time with them became more frequent too — nights, afternoons, or mornings in town before the roads got too crowded. 

As long as it didn’t touch Sunday night. 

Those belonged to Smoke.

“Louisiana,” Gigi started. Casual, like she was just asking about the weather. “You ain’t mounted that horse yet?” 

The words cut through the laughter, the sound of peas dropping in a bowl, even the phonograph that played soft jazz from the corner. Somebody choked mid-chuckle. Everybody turned to look at Annie, then froze. Three sets of eyes stared at her with a glittering curiosity that made her palms feel clammy in that moment. Gigi tapped her foot on the floor impatiently. Pearline fiddled with her hands. Nellie looked at Annie like she could read the answer in her face. But Annie wasn’t bothered. In fact, she was a little amused. This wasn’t a new question.

The four of them were sitting around the kitchen table after congregating at Nellie's house following their weekday bible study. Nellie’s mother took one long look at the four of them lounging around the front room and put them to work. She set a bowl and some peas on the kitchen table and walked out the room without another word. A pot of greens soaked on the counter. Pepper and onion sat chopped in a cast iron for later. Flour still sat in the cracks of the table from breakfast. 

She sighed softly. “No.” 

“Why not?” 

“She said she ain’t ready, y’all,” Pearline chimed in for her. “She say this every time y’all ask this question.” Then quieter. “It ain’t always like what them singers be goin’ on about.”

“Maybe not for you,” Gigi rebutted. “But you ain’t mountin’ a stallion.”

“More like a donkey,” Nellie joked.

Annie snorted. Even Pearline laughed under her breath. 

“So y’all just been kissin’?” Gigi probed.

“Mhmm.”

“You let him…touch you?” The question came from Nellie.

Her body flushed warm at the thought. Annie looked over to Nellie. “No.”

“Shame,” she sighed. “He look like he know what to do with his hands.” 

“Mhmm,” Gigi agreed.

“He should know,” Pearline said matter-of-factly. “Him and his brother done ran through half the town.”

“More than half,” Nellie muttered.

Annie sighed. Rolled her eyes.

“Stack more than Smoke,” Nellie confirmed. 

“Don’t I know it,” Annie replied.

“I heard Stack got a mean appetite,” Gigi said slyly.

That made Pearline gasp. “Gigi!” 

“What?” Gigi asked incredulously. 

“Please,” Pearline insisted in a hushed tone.

Annie shook her head. “Oh my God,” she protested. “I don’t need to hear this about my man’s brother.”

“Your maaaan,” Pearline teased playfully. Annie smiled.

“I heard Smoke manhood so big, it touches your soul,” Nellie said.

Annie’s head turned towards Nellie. “Who told you that?”

Nellie shrugged. “Is it true?” 

Annie shrugged.

“Every woman in town want a piece of them twins, I’m just surprised you ain’t took a bite yet.” 

“Not even a nibble?” Gigi asked. She looked shocked.

Annie chuckled low. “Not even a nibble.”

“But you seen it, though? Felt it? Backed up on him and let it poke you a little?”

“No,” she said. “I ain’t seen it.”

“But you felt it.” Gigi’s eyes grew wide. “It’s big ain’t it?” 

“He walk around like it’s big,” Nellie said plainly.

The room exploded with laughter, squeals, and giggles. Annie fumbled with a pea. 

“What’s big?” A voice rang out from the other room.

Nellie froze, then groaned and rolled her eyes when she realized who was talking.

“Awww don’t sound too happy to see me lil’ sis,” she continued. She stepped into the kitchen, t-strap heels clacking against the floorboards. Nice dress, nicer stockings, hair styled differently than Annie had seen in Clarksdale or New Orleans. Baby on her hip and another child at her waist, vice grip on his shirt like she was trying to keep him from running off or touching something he wasn’t supposed to.

Nellie rolled her eyes again and kept on shelling peas. “Hey Verity,” she said flatly. She looked up and her eyes softened when she saw her niece and nephew. “Look at how big you are!” she exclaimed. 

“Aunt Nellie!” 

Verity released the little boy and he ran over to give his aunt a hug. She adjusted her grip on her daughter, bouncing the babbling toddler on her hip. 

“Baby,” Verity said calmly with that mom warning underneath, “gon’ and help your daddy outside.”

The little boy rushed out the front door, leaving just the girls in an awkward silence before they quickly changed the subject. 

“Hey Verity,” Gigi and Pearline said together. Verity greeted them back, staring curiously at the stranger sitting at her mother’s kitchen table. 

“Verity,” Nellie started. “This is Annie, she’s new, from Louisiana. Annie, this is my sister Verity. She’s in town from Chicago.” 

Annie wiped off her hands on her apron and held out her hand to shake. “Nice to meet you, Verity.”

“Nice to meet you too, Verity. My goodness, you’re so pretty.” 

“Thank you,” Annie beamed.

Verity looked around the room. At each woman’s face individually. “What was y’all in here talkin’ about?” She asked like she’d already heard too much.

“Nothing,” Nellie said firmly.

Verity’s eyes narrowed.

“Men,” Gigi admitted bluntly.

Nellie shot her a look, to which she just shrugged and kept shelling her peas.

“What about ‘em?” Verity asked as her baby grabbed the collar of her dress. She untangled her fingers carefully while waiting for someone to say something.

“Annie here got herself a suitor already,” Nellie called out. “Smoke Moore.”

The look on Verity’s face said that she was busy putting a name to a face before it finally clicked. “Oh, one of the twins!” She wiped drool off her baby’s lips before it dripped on her clothes. “So they both came back from the war,” she remarked. “That’s good.”

Nellie rolled her eyes. “She done forgot about everybody she grew up with.” 

“Did not! They’re both so much younger than me.”

“You’re only 27.”

“And I been in Chicago for the past seven years,” she quipped. “How old are they now?”

“21,” Gigi answered.

“Babies,” she whispered, pinching her daughter’s cheek.

“Anyway, do you mind? Us babies,” Nellie said sarcastically, “tryna talk here. About somethin’ you don’t need to know nothin’ about.”  

Verity sighed. She was older, but still young enough to remember being where they were. Young and unmarried. Always being in a position to be told or met with judgment. Mostly from the women closest to her. 

She’d moved to Chicago and was met with a different type of perspective. The social scene was different, much different, probably something that’d make her mother clutch her pearls if she heard the lasciviousness that was considered normal, and that she had a taste of it before she met her husband. 

So, she knew all about flirtation and temptation. About men who only knew how to talk pretty, men who knew how to be tender, and men who confused possession with care. And behind the venom in her words, she could hear something more vulnerable in her little sister’s tone. So, she pulled up a chair at the table, put her baby between her legs, and went to work shelling peas. They worked together in silence for a while. Nothing except the occasional sigh, the sound of the baby hitting the table with her palms, and the house creaking and settling around them.

“Anyone else seein’ anybody new?” Verity asked.

Nobody replied. The air in the tiny kitchen held an uncomfortable type of tension. But it wasn’t anything unique. It was generational. A hesitance that usually exists in the gap between women just becoming and women who’d already been in their shoes. 

“How’s your husband, Pea?” 

Pearline cleared her throat. “He good,” she responded. She kept her head down while Verity looked at her knowingly. 

The front door practically flew open with all the energy of a hyper five-year-old boy. He took his shoes off by the door then ran down the hallway. 

Another person stepped in. His steps were much slower, but his energy was just as powerful in a measured, grown man kind of way. All six heads in the kitchen turned at once. Skin the color of chestnuts, bulky shoulders, broad chest, piercing light brown eyes that could stop a woman mid-sentence. He took off his hat to reveal a head full of low-cut slicked down hair. His three-piece suit matched the sharpness of Verity’s dress like a lid to a pot. He flashed a smile and damn near every woman at the table gulped hard. 

He waved his hand to greet everyone. “Hey y’all.” His voice was deep and gruff. A hint of southern twang in it, like the South had somehow rubbed off on him but he wasn’t born and bred here. 

“Hey,” everybody said back. 

Verity smiled, clearly unshaken by his presence because this was her husband. 

“Can you take the baby? She gettin’ fussy and I’m tryna help the girls with supper.”

“Sure.” He crossed the room to the kitchen and planted a kiss on her waiting forehead, then grabbed his daughter from her lap. 

“Thank you.”

“Hey sugar plum,” he cooed. He spoke softly to his daughter. She giggled and rested her head in the crook of his neck as he took her down the hallway.

Once they heard the click of a door shutting in the distance, the kitchen could finally exhale.

“That’s your husband?” Gigi asked breathlessly, looking towards the hallway like she needed him to reappear out of thin air. “Girl he is too fine!”

Verity grinned. “That’s my man,” she said proudly.

“Where you find him at?” Gigi continued. “And do he have any brothers?”

Annie kept her thoughts to herself as she snapped a pea under her thumb. While they sized him up her thoughts drifted over to Smoke. How his smile was easy when he showed it. How he didn’t show it to anybody but her. The way he’d walk in and suck the air out the room. The way his muscles filled out his clothing. Her breath sped up at the thought. She felt flushed. Hot all of a sudden, all over again.

Verity laughed at Gigi’s remarks and shook her head. “He do, but he’s the only good apple in the bunch.”

“Lord,” Annie chuckled.

Verity looked over at her expectantly.

“I got nothin’ but brothers,” she explained. “Got one, maybe two of them decent. The rest ain’t got the sense God gave a goose.” 

Everyone at the table laughed, the tension easing into something more relaxed. 

“It would take God and all his disciples to drill some decency into ‘em,” Pearline let slip out.

“Pearlie!” Nellie gasped at the revelation. Sweet little Pearline with her lace gloves, quiet eyes and her perfect posture like she was afraid that if she didn’t stand up perfectly straight someone would come behind her with a ruler to put her back in line. 

She shrugged casually, clearly pleased with herself. 

“Gigi,” Annie kept on shelling peas. “You ever see Will again?”

Gigi made a sound like she was vomiting and Annie broke out in laughter. 

“Verity,” she looked at her. “This man had the worst smelling feet I’ve ever smelled in my life!”

“Not smelly feet.”

“A horse’s hoof smells better than that man’s feet,” she grimaced. “Besides,” she smirked like her face held a secret she’d been dying to tell. Her voice got low. “I’ve been keepin’ company with Rodney again.”

“Not surprised,” Nellie mumbled.

“Who’s Rodney?” Annie asked.

Nellie answered for her. “Just the man she been stuck on since we was kids.”

“Ohh….” 

“I ain’t stuck. He’s just familiar.”

“More like that hmmhmm” she gave the table a knowing look, “is familiar.”

“Hush!” Gigi swatted Nellie’s shoulder. “It’s reliable.”

“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with goin’ back to an ol’ reliable.” Annie whipped her head around. The voice came from Verity.

“That’s right,” Gigi agreed smugly.

“Annie ain’t even done nothin’ with that twin of hers yet.” 

Annie rolled her eyes. “Here we go.”

“Why not?” Verity asked.

She huffed a small breath out her nose. “Just waitin’ for the right time.” 

“You waitin’ til the party huh?” Gigi asked with a grin. “All that liquor runnin’ through you will loosen you right on up,” she teased.

Annie shook her head, laughing.

Pearline spoke up quietly. “Don’t let the liquor make you do anything you don’t wanna do.”

“I ain’t,” Annie said.

“You keep it for yourself until you good and ready to give it away.”

“Exactly,” Pearline said. “And if he really cares, he won’t mind. Not one bit.”

“My husband waited a whole year for me to let him in. Didn’t pressure me. Didn’t make me feel bad. Didn’t make it ‘bout his needs,” Verity recalled. “What matters is what he does when wantin’ you, means he gotta take it slow.”

Her words landed. 

“Do he know?” Her voice was small. Pearline’s. “That you a virgin?”

Annie exhaled sharply. “I ain’t told him,” she confessed. 

Pearline spoke again. “And…he ain’t tried nothin’?” 

“We ain’t been alone like that,” she said softly while fumbling with the hem of her apron. “And I ain’t found the right time to tell him yet.”

“He gon’ wear you out once he get his hands on you,” Gigi said dramatically. “You know that right?”

“I believe it.” And she did.

“Whew, chile,” Nellie drawled. “I’ma say a prayer for you. And for your—” 

“Eleanor!” Verity snapped.

Annie snorted.

Verity looked over at Annie, eyes warm. “You’ll find the right time,” she assured.

The kitchen was a little quieter after that. Just the sound of knuckles cracking, shells snapping open, peas hitting the bottom of the bowl, throaty jazz still coming from the corner. And a glaring question that hummed underneath the noise. 

“Do you want to…you know, with him?” Pearline asked.

Annie stopped shelling for a moment and looked to the side to collect the whirlwind of thoughts that spun around in her head. 

Her and Smoke had been having outings. Not running into each other by chance, not catching a glimpse across the sidewalk. Together. In public. On purpose. It was mostly whatever it was she wanted to do. Smoke liked it that way.

They tucked into their own little routine as what was blossoming between them slowly became familiar. Since her conversation with Aunt Della she hadn’t taken the time to sit down and think about what exactly it was or where it was going to go. All she knew is that in this new rhythm with him…it felt right. 

He’d touch her gently. Carefully. Like he was holding onto something fragile. But even the slightest contact sent shivers down her spine. 

A hand at the small of her back.

He’d lean in close when he needed to say something to her. Always did.

But sometimes he’d drop his mouth right by her ear just to hear her gasp under her breath.

He’d wrap his hands around her waist and she swore she forgot how to breathe. 

But she didn’t move away.

His desire for her was palpable. 

He was hungry. 

She could see it in his eyes and feel it in his restraint. 

But he was tender with her, like he was dousing his own desire until she was ready to cross that bridge, and that ignited her curiosity for more like a spark lit in a dry room.

She knew she was in trouble when she started to notice the absence of certain things. His closeness. His touch. The feeling that came from it.

She thought about his mouth a lot. What it felt like pressed against hers. The way his tongue would trace the seam of her lips like a man standing at a threshold, waiting to be invited in. 

Her thoughts usually stopped there because they were too overwhelming. 

Kissing wasn’t new to her. Desire wasn’t either. Not entirely. 

She’d heard things. Sensed them. She wasn’t naive in an ignorant way. 

But as the baby of the family, and the only girl, she’d been crowded. She was always loved and protected. But love and protection always felt like being watched and managed by people who assumed they knew what was best for her.  

Then Smoke came along. He unsettled her because he didn’t hover. He waited. With his quiet attention and something deeper that sat underneath the surface. 

He listened.

He chose her. 

He made space for her to choose herself. 

And for a girl who spent her whole life being guarded, space felt dangerous. 

It felt like freedom. 

Freedom to be held but not held back.

She wanted to step into it, the new version of herself that was emerging from sheltered beginnings.

Craved it.

Craved him.

Badly. 

Even though she didn't fully know what that meant, she wanted to be close. Wanted to experience everything that came along with that closeness.

And it wasn’t just a physical thing. It was a primal, desperate ache that rose from the depths and swept through her body, hitting every single nerve ending along the way.

She even started dreaming about him. It was always the same one. She’d wake up in a mess of her own making—nightgown clinging to her curves, sheets damp. Then she’d spend the rest of the day feeling a dizzying pulse between her legs, like her heart had found a new home there.

It was like his soul had floated to hers while she was sleeping, and wanted to make sure she was ready for the day she finally just...let go. 

“Look Daedae, we only security guards, okay? Ghetto security guards at that. We ain’t Cops, we ain’t America’s Most Wanted, NYPD Blue, none of that shit you watch.”

“We somethin’ like them.” - Friday After Next

—

“—usually calm. Make sure ain’t nobody fighting, stealing, or parking where they not supposed to be. That’s it and that’s all.”

“Why you look at me when you say that??” 

“Because,” Delilah placed a hand on her hip. Pointed one long red fingernail across the counter at the 23 year old that was basically her nephew. “You act like God ain’t gave you no sense most days.” 

“Awe it’s like that auntie?” Stack pulled his toothpick from his mouth, glint in his brown eyes playful, as a grin stretched across his face. One that was too damn big for Delilah’s liking. 

“I’m not playing with you, boy.”  Her eyes jumped from the right to the left. “Either of y’all.” 

Smoke hadn’t been paying them any attention. The older Moore’s mind was elsewhere, focus split between the rent him and his brother were always short on and the french toast with blueberry compote Delilah placed in front of him 10 minutes prior. On another day, there wouldn’t be anything but crumbs left, but it was hard to have an appetite when money wasn’t right. 

At her words, his fork paused, head coming up and eyes squinting in the corners like, ‘what she say fuck me for?’ 

“You heard me,” Delilah raised her brows pointedly. “None of that Smoke and Stack nonsense today. Y’all are Elias and Elijah. Security guards. Secure my plaza, get paid, and go home. That’s all y’all gotta do.”  

That was all Smoke planned to do. It was easy money. Not the most money, but it’d add up all the same eventually.  

“You know we got you auntie,” Stack was seated on the stool next to his twin, plate clean, hand moving in the air like he was waving Delilah off. “We gon’ have this bit- this place locked down. Ain’t nun’ movin’ witout us knowing about it. Ain’t that right, Smoke?” 

Smoke glanced at him, “We gon’ sit in that booth and watch the parking lot, like we getting paid to.” 

Stack waved him off next. “Auntie D —” He placed his hand over his heart. “We ready to die behind this shi– stuff.” 

She couldn’t laugh at Elias, because all that did was encourage him, so Delilah shook her head instead, “You heard what I said Elias. Don’t be playin’ in my plaza, cause I will fire y’all, family or not. It’s bad enough I lost my last security guards.”

“You ain’t ever tell us what happened to them.” Smoke pushed his plate to the side, deciding he was done with breakfast. Then he checked the clock on the wall, like he wanted to make sure they were out of here before people started piling in. 

Delilah paused her wiping down of the already clean counter. And then she continued. It happened so fast, anybody else would have missed the break in motion.  

Smoke wasn’t anybody though. 

“You ain’t ever ask,” Delilah glanced up at him and then back down. “And it don’t matter anyways. Like I said, watch the plaza, make the money, and go home.” 

Smoke’s eyes narrowed, “Nah, what happened to the last —”

“Nigga come on,” Stack was sliding off his stool. “I ain’t get up at 9 in the morning to play 20 questions.” 

“You didn’t get up at all,” Smoke frowned. “I had to drag you outta bed.” 

“That ain’t the point,” Stack was already walking towards the door, only stopped to turn around after he’d reached it. “We got ‘dis auntie. Watch.” He saluted Delilah as if that was supposed to be reassuring and then used his back to push the glass open. “Chop chop nigga,” He clapped at his brother. “World ain’t gon’ save itself.” 

A ding went off as the door closed behind him and Smoke frowned harder. 

This was gon’ be a long ass day. 

“Stop lookin’ like that,” Delilah brought him out of his thoughts, leaning forward over the counter and hitting his arm playfully. “It’s gon’ be fine. If anything it’ll be boring. Just…watch yo’ brother.” 

He was gon’ do that anyways. Had been, since he could hold his head up damn near. 

Smoke wiped his mouth, dropped the napkin on the plate, and stood up from the counter. 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

“And Elijah…” Delilah hesitated. Knew he wouldn’t like what she had to say, but tried anyways. “You know I don’t mind just giving y’all –” 

“Nah, D —” Smoke’s words were sharp and he fixed his tone immediately, fingers twitching at his sides like he was irritated. With himself. Her. The situation. “Me and Stack ain’t lazy. We don’t mind workin’. And I’m gon’ make sure things run smooth today. You ain’t gotta worry.” 

Delilah didn’t push. Never pushed. She just nodded her head and smiled softly. “I know you will, baby. I ain’t worried at all.” 

Outside, Stack was busy ‘fixing’ his clothes. He’d already untucked the grey uniform shirt from his black pants and had seemingly pulled a sharpie out of his ass to cross out ‘Elias’ on his name tag and write ‘Stack’. 

He’d moved on to undoing the first couple buttons of the shirt when Smoke stepped out of the diner.

“‘Bout time,” Stack started towards his brother. “Come here.” His hands reached for Smoke’s shirt then and the older Moore promptly stepped back, slapping the hell out of Stack’s hands in the process. 

“Nigga, stop touching me.” 

Stack screwed his face up, looking at his brother like Smoke was the one tripping. “I’m tryna help yo’ ass. She got us walking around in these stiff ass uniforms. You frowning like the world coming to an end. We gotta’ come better than that, we top flight security of the world now Smoke.” 

“Only thing we securing is this months rent. Don’t nothing in this plaza require you to have all that energy.” Smoke was already walking past Stack, moving from in front of his aunties diner and across the parking lot. 

Clarkdale’s “plaza” wasn’t anything more than 5 odd businesses with the same location. There were two clothing boutiques, Delilah’s diner, Slim’s music store, and a random ass gift shop that Smoke didn’t expect to stay open long because who was really stopping here for souvenirs? 

As he headed for the security booth that looked more like a phone booth, the sun beat down on his back, that Mississippi heat unrelenting as always.

“‘Dat’s yo’ problem,” Stack followed behind his brother, easy swagger nothing like Smoke’s steady gait. “You ain’t got no vision. You need to be thinking big nigga.” 

“And you jus’ need to think,” Smoke cut his eyes to the right. “We short on rent and you playin’.” 

Stack shrugged, “Cause it’s gon’ work itself out. It always do.”

That was true. Odd jobs, a missed meal here and there, a little scheming on the side — whatever paid the bills, is what they did. 

Hence the ‘stiff ass uniforms’ their late mothers best friend had them wearing. Smoke didn’t feel no particular way about the job — it was just another way to make ends meet. The only thing wearing on him, bothering him, was that his constant grind never quite produced enough. 

“Besides,” Stack continued as they maneuvered around cars. “I already told you what we could be doing to make some real mo—”

“And I told you we wasn’t doing it.” Smoke stopped dead in the middle of the parking lot. “Stop bringing it up.” 

Stack didn’t blink at the edge in his brothers tone. “I only brought it up, cause you stomping around, ‘bout to pop that damn vein that’s in the middle of yo’ forehead. I’m coo’ with being top flight.” Stack spread his arms wide. “Shit — this plaza need a nigga like me. Ima fuck around and get a key to the city the way ima have this bitch running.” 

And he was so serious. 

Smoke looked at his twin smirking and felt it — that same vein in the middle of his forehead throbbing again. 

“Stack, we ain’t here to play no fuckin’ cops and robbers. We gon’ stay out the way and make this easy money.” 

It was the only easy money Smoke would allow himself to entertain, because that shit Stack kept talking about? They wasn’t doing that. Was gon’ be better than that. 

Stack shrugged, “If a nigga jump stupid in my aunties plaza, Ima have to show him somethin’ Smoke. I ‘ont care nothing ‘bout it getting out of hand. We run this shit now.” 

Smoke squinted, “You hear yoself? You get a whistle around yo’ neck and go on a power trip.” 

Stack blinked like he was saying ‘so’ and Smoke decided he was done with the conversation. 

“You heard what I said Stack,” He gave his brother a look and then started walking again, “Come on.” 

“Man I swear, niggas be born a few minutes early and think they the boss of errybody —” as Stack talked his shit, he made sure he was moving though, loud voice carrying through the air. 

“– and we ain’t little no more! You ‘ont intimidate me, nigga! I’m top flight of the world, Smoke!”

“This boring. Ain’t nun top flight about this shit.” 

Stack tugged at the collar of his shirt, shifting for what had to be the tenth time in the last ten minutes. 

Next to him, Smoke snorted quietly, never taking his eyes off the legal pad he was currently scribbling on. It had been in the booth, along with a #2 pencil, and was probably intended for note taking. There were no ‘notes’ to take though, so Smoke was working on a budget instead. 

“That’s how it’s gon’ stay.” The older Moore crossed out one number and replaced it with another as he spoke. “What chu’ think gon’ pop off at the gift shop, nigga? Just sit back.” 

The plaza had woken up. Closed signs flipped to open, cars pulling in and out, the hum of conversation gradually getting louder and creeping through the booths window. 

It had Stack restless and they’d only been ‘on duty’ for about an hour. 

In the younger Moore’s defense, it wasn’t in his dna to sit still. To watch the world move around him and not be at the center of it. To stand by, waiting for something to happen. And that’s all this job was — a whole bunch of waiting. In a hot ass, cramped ass booth, that was barely big enough to fit the two metal chairs they were seated in. 

Stack shifted again, “Man, if I knew all I was gon’ be doing was sitting here in silence wit’ yo’ ass —”

“It ain’t sitting in silence if you keep talking.” Smoke crossed out another number, brows furrowing in the middle. 

Stack sucked his teeth, mumbled something that sounded like, “Yeah ight,” and then graced Smoke with three blissful beats of silence before — 

Yeahhh, we finna set it off in this mufucka’ ya heard me?

Boosie’s voice came out of nowhere. 

Correction. It came from Stack’s phone. The same phone that currently had Apple Music on display and it’s volume turned all the way up.

You wonna talk shit? You wonna run yo’ mouth? You want some gangsta’s front yo- motherfuckin’ hou–

Stack was bobbing his head, the whistle around his neck slapping against his chest as his arm bumped Smoke’s every other second. He had three blissful seconds of chaos before —

“Turn that shit off,” Smoke snapped, head turning in his direction. “Got that loud ass music all in my ear.” 

Stack just grinned at first, shoulders jumping with the beat, southern drawl thick as he rapped.

“We’ll set this bitch off, yeah, set this bitch off!” 

And then Smoke sat up. 

And Stack stopped the music.

“Ight nigga, calm down.” Stack laughed as he held his hands up in surrender. “You need to lighten up damn. You don’t want me talk. Don’t wonna vibe out wit’ a nigga. What I’m ‘sposed to do?” 

Smoke…Smoke had to take a deep, deep breath before he spoke again, lids closing and opening slowly, like he was gathering patience. “All you gotta do Stack, is Watch. The. Parking lot.” 

So, Stack watched. Gaze focused on cars backing in and out and people moving from store to store for five whole minutes. 

And then he spotted two specific people, two strangers in one car that made him sit up straight. That made that bored expression on his face completely transform. 

“Awe shit,” Stack was already half way out his seat. “We got action!” 

“What??” Smoke looked up from his budget in confusion. Was met with nothing but the sight of Stack’s back as his twin damn near speed walked out of the booth. 

If Smoke was the type, he would have thrown his whole damn head back.

Instead, he let out a breath that sounded like it took every ounce of patience he had with it, mumbled “This nigga,” as he threw the legal pad down in front of him, and got up to follow behind his brother 

“Aye, y’all can’t park right here.” 

Annie was already parked. Had just pulled into the spot actually, when a loud voice coming from her left made her and Pearline look over. 

Both girls blinked, Annie’s brow furrowing in the middle while Pearline’s whole head cocked. 

It looked like…a security guard approaching them? One with a whistle around his neck, pants hanging low on his hips and a smirk on his face that screamed unserious. 

“Excuse me?” Annie’s doors were off of her jeep today, so her voice and that incredulous tone reached Stack’s ears clearly. 

“Y’all can’t park here,” He repeated himself as he stepped up to the side of the jeep. 

“And who are you supposed to be exactly?”Pearline jumped in and Stack’s eyes darted over to her. Smirk on his face growing before his head jerked back, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Now I know you see ‘dis,” He patted his chest, right over the crest in his shirt that was shaped like a badge. “I’m security, baby.” 

Annie rolled her eyes. Could already tell he wasn’t securing a damn thing. 

“Stack —” Another voice joined the conversation then. It was deep. Low. Sounded irritated. And it caught Annie’s attention immediately. 

Her eyes left the fake ass rent-a-cop, to look over his shoulder instead. There was another ‘security guard’ approaching them and his uniform was fitted to his body. Shirt tucked in, buttons done up, pants sitting correctly on his frame. 

He had brown skin, stiff shoulders, and thick brows that were pulled together in the middle. For a second, Annie felt like she wanted to take her thumb and smooth them out. 

“Awe now you wonna patrol wit’ me??” Security guard one had glanced over his shoulder when he heard the voice. “Nigga I got this covered, I already let ‘em know they can’t park here.” 

“What chu’ talking about?” Security guard 2 reached them, still looking disgruntled, and not even sparing Annie and Pearline a glance. “This spot ain’t reserved. Nigga come on.” His eyes flicked to the jeep then, gaze jumping from Annie to Pearline and back again. “I’m sorry ‘bout him. Y’all can park here.” 

His voice was completely flat. He truthfully didn’t sound apologetic and all. 

And for whatever reason,  Annie was intrigued. 

Both girls spoke at once. 

“Y’all brothers? Twins?” That was Pearline, leaning up in her seat, eyes jumping from one Moore to the next. 

“How you work with the public, when you can’t manage to even sound sorry?” That was Annie. Lips quirked playfully, eyes focused on one Moore and one Moore alone. 

Both brothers blinked, before Stack grinned wider, while that scowl on Smoke’s face?  Deepened. While his eyes really focused in on Annie for the first time. 

“Nah, baby,” Stack winked at Pearline. Watched her damn near melt into the seat. “We cousins.” 

Smoke wasn’t saying shit. He was just looking. At dark skin and big curls and full lips. Looking at a solid build, that was sitting up high in that jeep. Looking at big eyes that felt like they could see through him.

He felt…hot. Like he wanted to fidget. And Elijah didn’t fidget.

“I’m Stack,” The younger Moore was still talking, because one glance at his brother had told him Smoke wasn’t gon’ be no help. “And this Smoke.” Stack moved a step closer to the car. “We keep eerbody safe around here and as fine as y’all is, I know y’all gon’ cause a commotion when y’all get out this jeep. I can’t allow no disruption like that beautiful’s. It’s dangerous. That’s why y’all gotta go.” 

Pearline’s ass started giggling. 

Smoke didn’t give Annie anything to laugh at though. He still hadn’t even responded to her question actually.

That smile that’d been on her lips lessened, one brow raising when she asked, “I got something on my face?” 

Smoke frowned deeper and for a reason he couldn’t explain, that irritation Stack had been causing all morning grew. His fingers twitched at his sides, arms came up as he crossed them. Like he needed to ground himself or something. 

“Nah.” 

Annie’s brow rose higher at the word. At the one dry word and sharp glare being aimed her way. 

Okay then. 

She’d been intrigued, for like a minute, but she wasn’t in the habit of forcing conversation — nor did she appreciate him mugging her, like he was offended she’d even spoken to him at all.

Her lips pursed as she broke their stare, gaze drifting back to security guard number one. 

Can’t get ‘em all girl. Shake it off. Finer niggas exist. 

Stack was talking as Annie tuned back into the world around her.

“How ‘bout ‘dis,” Stack pulled his phone out. “We let y’all park here, but y’all give us y’all numbers, so if sumn happen, you can reach us.” 

He was saying y’all, but really was just looking at Pearline. 

“Promise we’ll come runnin’ to y’all rescue.” 

Annie didn’t know if Pearline would hand her number over or not. Half of the time, her friend flirted just to flirt — not because she was actually interested in getting to know anybody. 

What Annie did know was that she wouldn’t be handing over a damn thing. Not that Smoke wanted a number from her anyways. 

When Annie’s lips pursed harder, it wasn’t due to the sting of rejection. It was because even though she’d looked away, his glare was still boring into the side of her head. She could feel it and it was starting to get on her nerves because the fuck was his problem? 

As if he heard her thoughts, his voice suddenly rang out.

“You don’t gotta give him nothin’.” 

All eyes went to Smoke. Stack frowning and opening his mouth, getting ready to rebuttal. Pearline blinking, like she’d just remembered there was another twin standing there. Annie’s head turning, stare locking with his for a long millisecond before he looked away and directed his gaze to Pearline. 

Annie found it funny how that glare suddenly lessened. How his mouth opened and magically created more than one word now that he wasn’t looking at her. 

Clearly I did something to him in the past life. Fuck it. Not my problem. 

That’s what Annie told herself as irritation thrummed in her chest. 

Meanwhile, Smoke was reaching for his brother as he spoke, keeping his eyes on the girl in the passenger seat. 

Forcing his eyes to stay on the girl in the passenger seat. Because the one in the drivers seat? He ain’t like her. 

Ain’t like how she talked to him all casual and soft when he walked up. How she pressed him, when he didn’t respond. ‘Cause strangers didn’t do that with Smoke; joke, press, hell — make conversation at all really. Most people gave him a wide berth and reserved the talking for Stack.

He ain’t like how she looked at him either; like she was curious. Like she already knew some shit about him he’d never revealed.

And he definitely ain’t like when she looked away from him — like she was writing him off. How most people did. 

Smoke decided right then and there, that he ain’t like nothing ‘bout her. She, whoeva’ she was, made him feel too fuckin’ big for his skin and he was ready to get back to the booth. 

Where he would have been in the first place, if not for Stack. 

When Smoke continued speaking it was abrupt and short. Voice still flat as he looked at Pearline — 

“He sorry ‘bout holdin’ you up. Enjoy ‘da plaza.” 

And then he turned. Hand wrapped firmly around Stack’s shoulder to pull his brother with him and gaze pointedly not looking back at that baby blue jeep in the process. 

Even if some part of him, deep deep down, felt like he wanted to. 

“Damn Smoke, let me go! She like me! Aye — I’m tryna do my job and secure some shit and you fuckin’ it up! Ima write yo’ ass up for insubordination!” 

Stack’s voice travelled across the parking lot as Annie and Pearline watched the brothers retreat.

The older Moore had Stack gripped up tight, long gait bringing both of them towards a small booth Annie had never paid much attention to.

He wasn’t rushing away, but he didn’t slow down. Nor did he bother responding to Stack.

Annie’s lips twisted, the annoyance she’d felt in her chest curling up and settling in as she watched them. 

He hadn’t looked over his shoulder once. Hadn’t spared her them a glance after he cut into the conversation and then retreated. 

He was…rude. Annie didn’t like that. Ain’t like him.

Ain’t like how he’d managed to capture her attention without trying. 

Ain’t like that he didn’t do anything with it when he had it. That he hadn’t bothered to throw more than one word in her direction, like he was to good to talk to her or something. Too good to be polite.

And she definitely ain’t like how he looked at her. Face frowned up. Eyes unreadable, like she’d committed some offense against him she knew nothing about. 

Yeah. She ain’t like nothing about him actually. 

“They were coo’.” 

Pearline’s words had Annie pulling her eyes away from the security guards to look over at her best friend incredulously. 

“Uh no. They weren’t.” 

Pearline had pulled the visor down to touch up her gloss. Was currently popping her lips together as her gaze darted towards Annie and then back to the small mirror. “Well my twin was. He was cute too — in a goofy fuckboy kinda way.” 

She said it like that made sense, popping her lips once more before shutting the visor and giving Annie her full attention. “Yours a little rude though. How he gon’ pull my man away before he could get my number?” 

“Pearline —” Annie said it like ‘please stop playing’ “—you were not about to give that boy yo’ number.” 

“And was.” Pearline crossed her arms, charms from the bracelet wrapped around her wrist jingling in time with the movement. “Security guards need love too, Annie. Besides — he look like he can eat the fuck outta some pus-”

“Alright.” Annie stopped her before she got started. “Give that man yo’ number if you want to.”

“And you need to give his brother yours. Then we can double date.” Her friends eyes lit up before Annie snuffed that light right on out. 

“It ain’t gon’ ever happen.” She shook her head. Nose wrinkling. Eyes almost drifting back across the lot before she caught herself. “Like you said, he’s rude. Can’t speak, but was lookin’ at me like he wanted to fight or something —”

“Or like he wanted to fuck.” 

“That literally wouldn’t be any better Pearline,” Annie’s voice was dry. Skin a little hot. “You do whateva’ you want with the rent-a-cop, but don’t include me.” 

“Mmhm,” Pearline watched as Annie gathered her purse, like she was ready to get out of the car and end this conversation. “You ain’t gotta front. I saw you looking at him, friend.” 

“Lapse in judgment,” Annie’s response was quick. A little too quick, maybe. “I don’t like nothing that’s mean and you already know that.”

It was true. She didn’t do rude. Nonchalant. Or disrespectful. And she’d decided Smoke was all of that. 

“Now let’s go, before ain’t nothing good left in here.” 

Just like that, Pearline switched gears, remembering the reason they’d come out in the first place. The summer sale at D Lady’s Boutique. The name could use some work but the clothes? All sizes, all styles, and the prices hit every time. 

“Awe shit, you right.” Pearline damn near jumped down from the jeep. “Let’s go, because I need them shoes I saw on their site, and I will sling a hoe for ‘em.” 

Annie was only too glad that they were finally directing their attention away from any and everything security related. 

“So, what if that was my future wife? How you gon’ sleep at night, knowing you fucked that up?” 

“She wasn’t yo’ future nothin’ Stack.”

Smoke was back in the booth, arms crossed, lips pinched, stare directed straight out at the parking lot. 

He was doing his job. Watching. And if a lot of that watching was directed towards D Lady’s boutique, so the fuck what? 

“You ‘ont know that, though,” Stack insisted, leaning in like he was really proving a point. 

“I do know that.” Smoke cut his eyes sharply to the side. “Didn’t you meet yo’ future wife already last week? Wasn’t one of yo’ future wives tryna’ key our car yesterday?” 

Stack frowned, “You always wonna bring up old shit.” 

Smoke didn’t respond. Just directed his gaze back across the parking lot. 

He’d seen her hop out the jeep and go into the shop 15 minutes ago and Smoke thought it was stupid — how she left her car open and unattended like that. If it came with doors, fuck was the point of taking them off? 

He added it to the list of shit he didn’t like about her — the one he’d been silently compiling in his head. 

“You know what I think?” 

“Don’t care.” 

“I think you jus’ hatin’ nigga,” Stack continued anyways. “My smooth ass was ‘bout to get ‘dat number, while you was fumblin’.” 

“Fumblin’?” Smoke’s whole head turned. “I ain’t fumble shit. Ain’t want shit either.” 

“Righttttt.” 

Smoke blinked at his brother. And then turned forward again. 

“You ain’t gotta lie, Smoke.” Stack was grinning now. “I think she was fuckin’ wit’ you, actually.” 

Smoke grunted, eyes narrowing just barely in the corners. 

He didn’t care who was or wasn’t ‘fuckin’ wit’ him’. Wasn’t concerned with most of the trivial shit other 23 year olds were. Since he’d been a teen, the older Moore had only three priorities: staying alive, keeping his brother alive, and making enough money so him and Stack didn’t end up somewhere out on their asses. 

His twin hustled with him, always. Understood the grind to a certain extent, but Stack wasn’t the oldest. Ain’t feel the weight of responsibility like Smoke did. Ain’t understand how nothing could derail Elijah from his mission. 

He was focused. 

How you work with the public, when you can’t manage to even sound sorry?

Smoke’s jaw clenched. Not hard. Just enough. 

I got something on my face?

He shifted his weight. Blamed the movement on the hard ass chair he was sitting in. 

“So you ‘ont like her? The thick one?” 

The older Moore’s face didn’t change. That didn’t mean he couldn’t feel the irritation crawling under his skin at Stack’s words. 

“I don’t know her. Don’t wonna know her. Seem like she got a attitude problem anyways.” Smoke felt like he was talking too much, so he shut up. 

“Man that girl ain’t have no attitude,” Stack smacked his lips. “She was tryna flirt wit’ yo’ uptight ass. But whateva’, stay sleep if you want to, ima get her friend regardless. That’s wifey nigga, I’m telling you.”

Smoke just shook his head, stare still on that jeep, mind flashing back to when she’d looked away from him. Like she was dismissing him. Like she couldn’t be bothered. 

She probably stuck up as fuck. 

Smoke added it to his list of dislikes, right along with her eyes, her mouth, her clear lack of awareness when it came to safety, and the way she’d made him feel. 

Slow. Awkward.

His jaw clenched again. 

“On a serious note though,” Smoke looked over as Stack started speaking. Was almost grateful for the distraction, until Stack kept speaking. “Listen to ‘dis and tell me if this shit hot or not. I been working on it for like…the past three minutes.” 

The younger Moore sat up in his seat, shoulder hitting Smoke’s in the process. And then he started banging on the ‘desk’ in front of them, whistle slapping against his chest, head nodding along with the beat he was creating as his mouth opened. 

“Me and my brotha’ bitch,

 We top flight for sho’ —” 

It was loud. The sigh Smoke let out through his nose. 

“— but he gotta get some game

 Cause he, scarin’ the hoesss, ” 

Smoke’s eyes closed, the same vein from earlier throbbing on que. 

Stack just grinned at his brother’s reaction,  nodding his head harder and rapping louder to his beat. 

“I just met my future wife and we gon’ be couple goalsss,

Smoke can’t relate, cause my brotha’ a lil slowwww…”

*picture the scene fading to black* 

A/n ~ If you made it to the end, I hope you enjoyeddd! I think this is the first thing I’ve written where I actually really like my execution of Smoke lmao so yay for me ☺️ Anywaysss, Happy Thursdayyyyy 🫶🏾 my results on the poll will determine what I drop next 👀

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@saradika-graphics on dividers 🫶🏾

Visionaries: @lizbehave @thebumblebeesworld @shereeluvssinners @miss-spiders-sunny-patch @bananajoeclone @aellesa @atpeaceinthestars @underated345-blog @hotebonynearby @hdfen2474 @chromexbarbie @honeytoffee @mmbee675 @waitingtobreatheagain @mikaelsonharem7 @cocochannelmoi

Smoke Visionaries: @brownskincheyenne @meannaim @blue4everrsworld @thedutifulone @partylikemajima @ladychzzcake @shamansha @og-goddesstrill @naibaby