Chapter Twenty-Three
Takira
“Mama, I got this,” I tell her, loading the dishwasher. “You can go on up.”
“You sure?” she asks.
“Daddy went upstairs like an hour ago.” I laugh. “Go be with your man.”
“Your daddy hasn’t washed a dish in forty years.” Hands on hips, she rolls her eyes up to the ceiling. “You know that man leave the kitchen still chewing.”
I nod, grinning and clearing the table of the dinner dishes.
“Ain’t heard from Cliff,” Mama says. “You suppose he all right?”
I freeze, my hand hovering over the stack of plates. I came this week because I love my brother, and if he needs me, I want to be here. That doesn’t mean I’m not still pissed for how he handled our conversation last week.
“I’m sure he’s fine.” I give her a reassuring smile. “Myron would have called if something bad had gone down.”
“Or Naz would have told you, I’m sure.”
I can’t fight off my smile. As much as I want to be here for Mama and for Cliff in case anything goes left, it was hard not driving over to Naz’s hotel last night.
“He would have called, yeah,” I agree. “Head on up, Mama.”
She kisses my cheek and makes her way to the steps. I hear Daddy watching Family Feud. Surely my father is the only one recording episodes ofthat show.
I make quick work of the dishes and fend off restlessness. I don’t want to bother Naz when he’s at the dinner. He said he’d call when he left to let me know how it went. As much for distraction as anything else, I climb the steps up to the roof. It seemed so much bigger when I was eighteen. It was the best place to come dream and hope. Now it feels smaller and, with all us kids gone and never using it, neglected. Out of forgotten habit, I check the storage bench and grab an old blanket, then spread it on the cement floor. It’s quiet up here, peaceful, and I wrap myself in memories—all the good times we had here as a family. Cliff was always on grill duty. I blink back tears as much for all that he lost as for how our conversation ended last week.
“Someone once told me the stars feel really close up here.”
I sit up on the blanket, turning my head toward the stairs leading back into the house.
“Naz.” I almost collapse with relief, glad to see him. Needing to hold him.
“Your mom let me up.”
He crosses the roof and settles down beside me, stretching out on the blanket and pulling me onto his lap. I cuddle into him, disrupting his neatly tucked shirt by slipping my hand under it and dragging my palm over his warm skin. He kisses my hair and squeezes me tighter.
“Go ahead and ask,” he says, his voice tinged with humor.
“How’d it go? With Cliff, I mean.”
“He apologized to me.”
I pull back, shock stretching my mouth open. “What? Cliff did?”
“Cliff did, and I’m sure you’ll have one coming your way, too. Apparently he went to group and got some perspective.”
The knot that’s been in my stomach since I landed yesterday slowly loosens. “He’s okay?”
“I think he’s stronger than you give him credit for.” Naz looks up at the stars, a small frown bending the thick line of his brows. “I think he’s stronger than he gives himself credit for, but yeah. He seemed to be in a better place. I told him that was good since he and I will probably be related someday.”
I go completely still in his arms, twisting to peer into his face with the light so dim.
“You said what?” I gasp, clutching a handful of his shirt reflexively.
“Oh, he was fine with it.”