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“Love, when you gon’ stop this?” Granny Nette asked.So much for beating around the bush. She looked at me with those wise, knowing eyes that had seen more than I could imagine. “You can’t keep hiding from your feelings, from Real. You been moping around for months. You need to go after him.”
My heart sank at the mention of his name. “Granny, why you assume this is on me? Anyway, I’m sure he’s moved on.”
That thought made me sick, made me feel like acid was bubbling inside me. Granny leaned forward, her expression firm yet gentle. “You won’t know unless you try. Life’s too short to let fear control you. You deserve love, baby. You need to fight for it.”
I sighed, glancing down at my hands. “That man was tired of me.”
She scoffed.
“As he should’ve been. You’ve spent years, mad and hurt because a few bad apples couldn’t love you out loud. And when you found a man who did, a man who followed you and showed you and loved you in front of all of us, you ran him off.”
I stared at my granny, not believing her little self had just read me for filth.
“Granny—”
She held up a hand, silencing me.
“Listen to me, Love,” she said, her voice steady. “You are more than enough. You’ve always been. You are so very special. You say you know that, but you don’t act like you do. You hide all that light and joy behind a mask. If you love him, tell him. You owe it to yourself and… well, you know the rest.”
Her words settled in my chest, and I felt a little bit of determination. Maybe I could do this. Maybe it was time to take a leap of faith, to believe what Montréal had been telling me.
“Okay, I’ll go,” I said, surprising even myself.
Granny patted my hands. “Good. I knew you would. You get your good sense from your granny.”
I smiled. “Oh, really?”
“Yep. That and that big ol’ booty. You can thank me whenever.”
For the first time in months, my laughter rang in the Big House.
“What you getting into today?” Granny asked as she stood. I followed her into the kitchen where she walked to her wall oven to check her pies.
“Hy has an in-service today, so she’ll be done a little early. I’m meeting her for happy hour. She says she needs it,” I divulged.
“Probably does. The kids show out, the administration can be a headache. My poor baby,” Granny sympathized.
We talked a little longer before I left, headed for town. I beat Hyacinth to The Underground and grabbed a booth for us. The combination bar and restaurant buzzed with the familiar sounds of clinking silverware and laughter, the air thick with the smell of fried catfish and collard greens. I studied the menu, like I didn’t already know I was going to get a strawberry lemonade and the honeyed lemon pepper wings.
Hyacinth slid into the booth across from me, her eyes sparkling with excitement, just as a bouncy little server set a glass of water in front of me. Her ornate nails fidgeted with her key fob as she requested a lemon drop.
“Girl, you won’t believe what happened at work today!” she started, her voice animated.
I leaned back, ready to immerse myself in one of her entertaining little stories. The jingle of bells sounded, and we looked up as the door swung open. Tall and imposing, Braeden Christopher stood, squinting as his dark eyes scanned the diner’s interior. His posture relaxed as his gaze landed on our booth, the hard lines of his handsome face easing into something softer as he studied my cousin.
In my opinion, Braeden was Hyacinth’s person. He agreed. In fact, ninety-nine percent of Emancipation agreed. Unfortunately, included in the one percent who didn’t, was Hyacinth. In my cousin’s mind, Braeden had messed up his one chance, and she wasn’t in the business of giving second ones.
“Hyacinth,” he said, his tone soft but firm. “We need to talk. Right now.”
Hyacinth’s expression shifted from surprise to annoyance. “Seriously, Braeden? I know you see I’m busy?”
He sighed. “Hey, Everly. How are you?”
“I’m great. What about you?” I asked with a small smile.
“I’d be doing better if your cousin wasn’t so difficult,” he groused before turning back to her. “Hy, just give me five minutes, please. It’s important,” he insisted, his eyes almost begging.
It was crazy. Braeden was known as one of the most ruthless, dangerous men around. Yet, Hy could reduce him to pleading. She glared at him for a moment, her fingers tapping against the plastic-encased menu.