When It Rains... (10 page)

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Authors: Angie Daniels

BOOK: When It Rains...
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The woman could
burn
in the kitchen. Just thinking about how wonderful it would taste made Honey run her tongue across her lips. The ham and cheese sandwichshe'd had for lunch was now history. “I can't wait.”
Tequila had begun teaching cooking classes last year. Since then, she'd added several additional pounds to her thick hips that Shaquil commented made his wife look even more delectable.
Honey entered the kitchen to find her mother bastinga turkey on the stove and Shaquil standing at the sink buttering fresh-baked rolls. An aluminum pan of corn bread dressing was on the counter. One would have thought it was Thanksgiving. She zeroed in on a delicious-looking Dutch apple pie cooling on the table. Baked goods were Tequila's specialty; she prepared a crust so light and flaky it melted on your tongue.
“Hey, everybody,” Honey greeted, then strolled over and wound her arms around her brother's neck, kissing him soundly on the cheek.
Six years her senior, Shaquil turned green eyes on her and smiled broadly. “Hey, sis.” He was dressed in an orange sweatshirt that enhanced a cinnamon complexionshe had always envied. Shaquil wasn't as tall as Rashad, but still towered over Honey's petite frame.
Moving to the stove, she planted a kiss on her mother's forehead.
“Hey, sweetheart.” Tiny lines around her eyes crinkledwith Helen's smile. She was a beautiful woman. Her fine wavy hair was brushed away from her face, showing a clear picture of her mixed heritage: creamy beige skin and gray-green eyes inherited from an Irish mother, and a wide nose and full lips that were the distinctqualities of her Haitian father.
Honey looked down at the juicy turkey. “That sho' looks wonderful, Mom. Can I have a sample?”
Helen playfully swatted her daughter's hand away, but not before Honey reached for a small, tender piece of white meat. Then she removed the oven mitt, reached for a large spoon, and began stirring a pot of pinto beans. “It will be time to eat soon enough. Grab a knife and put icin' on that cake.”
Chewing, Honey reached for a butter knife with a smile. Moving to the far end of the counter, she spread homemade chocolate icing over her mother's fabulous marble cake, anticipating the sinfully sweet chocolate taste. Making certain Helen wasn't looking, she ran her index finger across the knife, then raised it to her mouth.
That shit is finger-lickin' good.
She couldn't match her mother's recipe, no matter how much she tried. Helen never wrote anything down. Her cooking lessons were “observe and learn.” Even watching, Honey never could perfect the taste.
“What would you like for me to do, Mama Love?” Tequila asked.
“Get some fresh vegetables out of the refrigerator and make a tossed salad.”
Honey watched Tequila move to the sink to rinse her hands, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. Everyone was used to her mother's direct personality, knowing it was just Mama's way.
Honey looked forward to Sunday dinners. It was a tradition; they prepared the meal together as a family. She watched as her mother reached into the stove to removea pan of bubbling sweet potatoes, glad she was enjoying the new oven after they'd had to insist she let go of the old stove she'd had for over fifteen years. The almond self-cleaning oven was the perfect complement to the earth tones of the kitchen. Last year, Rashad had laid nutmeg ceramic tiles on the kitchen floor, and they were gleaming bright as ever. Helen could spend all week cleaning another family's home, but always found time on Saturdays to clean her own home. Although small, her house was just as immaculate as any mansionin West County.
They were setting the table when Rashad strolled in with Yolanda, his girlfriend. Honey noticed her latest ensemble.Cold weather never seemed to matter to Yolanda's hoochie ass. She was wearing a red leather miniskirt with matching jacket and knee-high black suede boots, highlighting ruby-red lips and eighteen inches of weave. But even with her outrageous getup, she was a sweet girl. Honey hadn't had a chance yet to find out how importantYolanda really was to her brother, but she had her suspicions. Yolanda knew Rashad saw other women, and she seemed okay about that. Although for one month straight she was the only one he had brought to their mother's for dinner.
“Hey, Honey,” Yolanda called from several feet behind.
Honey flashed a warm smile. “What's up, girl?”
Catching her off guard, Rashad came up behind her and scooped her off the floor. “What's up, sis?”
Honey squirmed in his arms. “Put me down, Rashad,” she demanded between giggles.
He slowly lowered her to her feet and planted a kiss on the back of her neck. After quickly looking around, he asked, “Where's Lavell?”
Honey glanced over her shoulder and mumbled, “Who?” before swiftly moving back to the kitchen.
Following her into the room, Rashad stopped long enough to plant a kiss on his mother's cheek before movingto the counter to stand next to Honey. He tilted his head, his smile taunting. “Lavell ... the guy you brought to dinner last Sunday?”
Honey cleared her throat and murmured, “He couldn't come.” Refusing to meet his eyes, she quickly moved to the refrigerator in search of salad dressing.
“He couldn't come, or you didn't invite him?” Rashad now stood beside the refrigerator door with his hands folded across his chest. Grinning, he shook his head ... little sister was at it again.
Shaquil was removing silverware from a drawer. Listening to the exchange, he couldn't resist teasing and chimed in, “She probably broke the man's heart.”
Honey closed the refrigerator and shifted her gaze from one to the other. They were baiting her. If her mother wasn't in the room, she would have cursed both of their mothafuckin' asses out. “No,” she said, trying to keep her tone light.
“Then what?” Shaquil asked, nudging Rashad in the shoulder. Their eyes locked with a mutual grin.
How she hated being put on the spot. But this time, she wouldn't give them what they wanted. She placed several bottles on the counter and gave her brothers a sidelong glance.
Rashad stepped forward and playfully poked her in the side. “What gives this time?”
Honey responded with a look of annoyance.
Shaq wagged his hand, then chuckled, knowing she had no intention of explaining. “How many does that make this year, sis? Three? Four? And it's only February.”He made tsking sounds with his tongue and gave her a sly wink. “At this rate, you're gonna beat last year's record.”
His antagonizing voice flustered her, and she was on the verge of exploding. Hands on her hips, she slanted an irritated glance over at him and said, “Shut up, Shaq!” Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw that the others were watching and waiting for the answer she refused to provide. Why couldn't they just leave her the fuck alone? Was it that hard for them to understand that her priorities were different? That her career came first? A man and his dick was the last thing she needed.
Shaquil turned around and leaned against the counter with his ankles crossed. “Are you ever gonna settle down?” His question was serious, but his tone was teasing.
Honey's lips flattened. “Marriage isn't meant for everyone.” She moved over to the sink and reached for a dish towel.
“Apparently,” he dryly noted.
She twirled on her heels, her eyes shooting daggers. “Unlike you, I'm not afraid to sleep alone at night.”
“Ha, ha!” Rashad chuckled, bending at the waist. “She got you, bro.”
Yolanda tried unsuccessfully to stifle a grin, and even Helen snickered.
“Funny,” Shaq said, pretending to be annoyed that his sister had brought up the fact that as a child he'd been afraid of the dark.
Tequila was dividing her attention between putting food in serving dishes and listening to her nosy husband.
Serves him right.
After lowering a pot into the sudsy dishwater, she walked up behind Shaquil and placed a comforting hand on the center of his back. “We don't have that problem anymore.” She cupped her mouth as if she were telling a secret and pretended to whisper. “I bought him a night-light.” Then she turned and kissed his parted lips before exiting into the dining room, leaving her husband wearing an embarrassedexpression.
Yolanda whipped around in front of the cabinet and quickly brought a fingertip to her lips, causing Honey to chuckle. Rashad was cracking up so hard he fell against the refrigerator.
Helen was used to her children picking on each other. With a hand planted on a lean hip, she moved towardthe refrigerator and found Rashad blocking her way. “Boy, move! I need to get the butter.” Taking note of his mother's stern expression, he sobered quickly and moved out of her way. She opened the door and reached inside. “I don't know why the three of you pick on each other so much.”
Shaquil looked flustered. “Why you cracking on a brotha?”
Honey saw the flash of Shaquil's grin before he tried to conceal it. Thank the Lord for sisters-in-law. “Why're you in my business?” she countered.
As he rested his elbow on the counter, Shaquil's mouth lifted in a boyish grin. “All I meant was, you need to at least give us some warning. As soon as I get attached to one of your friends, you give the brotha the boot.”
That did it. Honey flung the towel at his head.
“Hey!” Shaquil ducked, his eyes holding amusement.“Give a brotha a break!”
“You two leave your sister alone,” Helen scolded, ending any further discussion. “Honey has plenty of time to settle down. She's still young.” She removed the country-style apron from around her waist and moved to take a seat at the kitchen table.
Honey was grateful for her mother's intervention. She was used to her brothers nagging about her personallife. Usually she ignored them, but for some reason,today she had taken it personally. “Thanks, Mom.” She flashed her a loving smile.
Rashad laughed and flicked his sister's nose. “My bad. You know I got nothin' but love for you.”
Honey waved his hand away, then, carrying the salad dressings, moved through the archway heading to the dining room. Shaq followed, saying, “Sorry, sis.” When she purposely ignored his apology, he came up behind her, tickling her under the arm.
Honey was extremely ticklish and flinched, trying to push her brother away. “Stop, Shaq!” she said, laughingand dancing away to avoid being goosed.
“No, not until you accept my apology.”
She dropped the bottles onto the dining room table and dashed for the living room, her brother chasing her. Honey waved her arms, her efforts useless. She was laughing so hard her sides hurt.
“Say it, sis,” he ordered as he tickled her under both arms.
“All right, all right!” Honey fell onto the couch and gave him a shove. This time, he stopped. She placed her palm against her chest and panted. “I accept your weak-ass apology.”
Shaq leaned over and planted a wet one on her forehead.Looking down at her flushed face, he said, “I only want to see my little sista happy.” He then turned and went back into the kitchen, stopping along the way to swat his wife across the behind for her tall tale.
After getting her breathing under control, Honey went to help. As she entered the dining room Rashad appeared, carrying a steaming bowl of beans. He placed it on a pot holder at the center of the table. “Everything'sready.”
“Good. I'm starved,” Honey said, then walked into the kitchen, picked up some serving dishes, and carriedthem out to the dining room. The table was beautifullydecorated with her mother's favorite china and an old ecru tablecloth that her grandmother had crocheted when Honey was a little girl. She missed Grandma Dee.
The doorbell chimed as Honey placed a basket of rolls on the table, and she went to the living room to answer it. She opened the door and found a handsome old gentleman standing before her with straight black hair liberally streaked with gray, dressed in a white shirt and tie.
“May I help you?” Honey asked with a warm smile.
“I'm here to see Helen.”
His eyes were friendly, and Honey's curiosity got the better of her. She raised her brow, but before she could find out his name, Helen stepped into the room.
“George, you made it!” she exclaimed from behind Honey. She moved past Honey, took her guest by the hand, and pulled him into the room. “This here's my daughter, Honey. Honey, I would like you to meet my friend George.”
Honey extended her hand, accepting his firm handshake.
“The pleasure is all mine,” he said in a pleasant voice.
Honey watched her mother take George by the hand again and lead him into the dining room where the othershad gathered. Honey entered just in time to see the surprised expressions on everyone's face, especially her brothers.
“Let's eat,” Helen announced. Tequila yelled for Marcus to join them, then the family formed a circle around the table and held hands as Helen said grace.

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