Never Too Soon

by Tamika Christy

  “All right, boys,” Ava said with the authority of Tinkerbell. “That’s enough. Pop-pop’s gonna get you for running in the house.”

  Anaya rolled her eyes but hid her smile when she noticed Catie storming over as fast as her pregnant body would allow.

  “Hey! Cut it out!” Catie barked like an army sergeant. The boys stopped immediately and stared at Catie.

  “Let’s turn on a movie, Ava,” Anaya suggested, handing her sister the remote.

  Ava smiled approvingly as the boys piled on the sofa. Looking at her serene smile, you’d never know her kids were behaving like monsters.

  Not wanting to gather everyone for dinner just yet—Uncle Allen still hadn’t arrived—Anaya went over to meet Sophie’s friend. Aunt Deb was gesticulating wildly at something as she talked to Carl in the dining room. He caught her eye and she winked at him.

  She found Sophie and her friend listening as Roscoe talked military. Oh boy.

  “That F-22 Raptor is no joke. Ooh-wee! Have you ever seen one?” Roscoe looked at Sophie’s friend expectantly, but the man didn’t respond. Roscoe was undeterred. “And that’s just for airstrikes. If you are talking about ground strikes, that XM25 CDTE will tear something up.” He made a sound like a broken speaker.

  “Hi, you guys.” Anaya interrupted the military lesson.

  Sophie beamed at her and nodded at her plus one. “Jabari, this is my best friend, Anaya.”

  Oh, so this is Jabari. Very interesting.

  “Sophie said a lot of nice things aboutchu,” Jabari said. The compliment couldn’t be reciprocated. Sophie had left out critical details about Jabari’s exotic handsomeness. Two large cornrows hung past his shoulders, and his blazer was as baggy as his jeans. Though the hip-hop attire was questionable, Anaya was a sucker for a beard.

  “Well, that’s nice to hear. I’m glad you could make it.”

  “Wouldn’t miss it.”

  Sophie latched onto Jabari’s arm. “Did you do all this yourself, Anaya?”

  “I did.” Anaya smiled proudly. “With a little help from the caterers.”

  “Wow,” Jabari said.

  Sophie beamed again. “Anaya has always been super creative. She’s also good in the kitchen.”

  Anaya shrugged under the praise. “I learned a lot from my mom.”

  “I see. Cool,” Jabari said.

  A man of few words. Okay, Sophia, I see you.

  The front door opened and shut, and Anaya glanced over to see Uncle Allen holding a bottle of Roscoe’s favorite cooking oil. She looked back at Jabari.

  “Jabari, it is a pleasure. I hate to run off, but I have to get ready to serve. Help yourself to whatever you want to eat and drink. Dinner will be served soon.”

  “Look at you,” Sophie teased. “Miss Hostess-with-the-Mostess. Dinner will be served soon.”

  Anaya waved her off and went over to greet Allen and take his coat and gift. He was far more reserved than usual, and Anaya couldn’t help but watch him hesitantly approach his wife. Marie spoke to him briefly as Aunt Deb and Marguerite watched her every move with pursed lips.

  Anaya hung up his coat and went into the dining room. She checked over her list one last time to ensure everything was perfect and called everybody to the table. Ten minutes later, they were all finally seated, including Ava’s boys at the breakfast table Anaya had set up for them. Roscoe sat at one end of the table closest to Riley, Troy, Uncle Allen and Marie. Aunt Deb sat at the other end next to Cousin Marguerite, Sophie and Jabari. Anaya and Carl sat in the middle of the group next to Ava and Joe and across from Catie and Antoine. When Roscoe asked Joe to bless the food, Anaya cringed. By the time he thanked God for the food, family, the gift of life, the great weather, those getting ready to eat the food, and those who had prepared it, Anaya was sure the food was cold. She was ready to punch him.

  So was Catie.

  “That was some prayer there, Joe,” Catie said sarcastically. “You sure you covered everything?”

  Carl hid his laugh behind a cough into his napkin.

  “I try,” Joe gushed. Anaya didn’t know if Ava had learned to be so peppy from Joe or vice versa. “God is merciful, and I try not to miss an opportunity to thank him.” Ava beamed like he had just made the inaugural address.

  Catie watched in fascination as Joe pile food on his plate. Her jaw dropped lower with each serving he scooped.

  Anaya caught Catie’s eye and raised her eyebrows. Stop staring, she mouthed.

  “I’ve been thinking about investing in more property,” Deb was saying at the other end of the table.

  “That’s a great idea,” Marguerite replied, chewing loudly.

  “Are you going to eat all of that, Joe?” Catie’s eyes were fixated on Joe. She didn’t seem to care about Aunt Deb or her property interests.

  Anaya shifted her attention back to Catie with a warning glare.

  “Yeah, I’m hungry.” Joe laughed. He didn’t seem to realize he was being insulted.

  Anaya took a deep breath and a long, slow drink of water.

  “That’s the same question I was going to ask you, Marguerite,” Deb said loudly. “Do you think you should have any more of that bread? You had about twenty of them quiches in the kitchen earlier.”

  Marguerite ignored Deb and grabbed another roll. Deb started muttering to herself about the car accident, and then about a ring she lost during the Civil Rights movement. Anaya had heard her stories a hundred times before, and it was easy to tune her out.

  “Catie, I’m excited to hear about the baby! Do you want a girl?” Marguerite asked between bites. Enthusiasm poured from her pretty, chubby face.

  “We just want a healthy baby,” Catie replied. She didn’t acknowledge Antoine, who appeared focused on his food.

  “When are you due?”

  “November.”

  “Ah, that’s my birthday month,” Marie said, sipping more wine. How many glasses had she had? “Hopefully you’ll have the baby on my birthday.”

  The conversation at Roscoe’s end of the table was all basketball.

  “I ain’t trying to make excuses, but every team goes through a transition period, ya know?” Riley said to Uncle Allen and Roscoe.

  “Now that’s true,” Uncle Allen said. “One year you can be in the championships, and two years later you can be trash.”

  Marie leaned towards Allen and nodded enthusiastically. “Yep. I remember when I did my first Spartan Race. The first one was great but the following year, my time was awful. I could hardly get over some of those obstacles. It was burpees all day for me.” She chuckled at the memory. Uncle Allen rolled his eyes.

  “I knew something was going to crash, but I thought it was the charts, not a car,” Deb said from the other end of the table.

  “So how many more rolls do you think you can eat, Joe?” Catie feigned an innocent, interested expression.

  Joe was about to reply through a bite of roll, but Anaya interrupted.

  “Catie, can you help me in the kitchen?”

  “I’m pregnant.” Catie waved her hand. “Ask Sophie or Ava. I’m too big to be running around the kitchen.” She leaned on one elbow. “So, Joe—”

  “I’d still like you to help me,” Anaya insisted.

  “Why do you feel incapable of helping with the food, Catie?” Sophie asked.

  “What the heck?”

  “I’m just asking. What about food service gives you negative thoughts or feelings? Ny simply asked you to help her.”

  Catie would prefer to cook the entire meal from scratch in an itchy bathing suit rather than engage Sophie in one of her psychobabble conversations. Anaya mouthed a thank you to Sophie as Catie got up and waddled behind Anaya into the kitchen.

  “Not tonight,” Anaya said, ushering Catie into the pantry. “Not at Roscoe’s birthday dinner.”

  “What are you talking about? No one is trying to ruin Roscoe’s birthday dinner.”

  “You know what I’m talking about. Do not assassinate Joe tonight
. It’s not the right time.”

  Catie crossed her arms. “Anaya, I’m not trying to assassinate anybody. I’m carrying life, fool. He’s the one out there praying for world peace and cures for the incurable instead of the meal. And why does he have to eat so much food? Isn’t gluttony and greed a sin? Thou shalt not eat more than a football squad in one sitting? And those poor kids, have they ever been disciplined? They are awful.”

  “Catie, stop it,” Anaya hissed. “I don’t want any drama. Be nice to Joe!”

  Catie pouted, and Anaya sighed.

  “I agree Joe needs a job. But we aren’t going to talk about that tonight. Maybe you can invite him to lunch or something if you want to talk about this so badly.”

  “I can’t afford to take him to lunch. You see the way he eats.”

  “Catie!”

  “I’m just trying to keep it real.”

  “Catie, mind your own business and carry this bread out to the table so we won’t look suspicious.”

  “But Marguerite is gonna eat it all up,” Catie said.

  “Shut up and take it.”

  “Wait. Before we go, can we talk about how fine Jabari is?”

  Anaya smiled. “Right? Now I see why Sophie gave him so many chances.”

  “He looks like the prime minister of Dubai. But he needs to stay off his phone.”

  “You noticed that too?” Anaya asked.

  “Girl, I notice everything. I notice you undressing Carl with your nasty little eyes too. Y’all need to just move in together.” Catie frowned as Anaya pushed the pan of bread towards her again. “I’m not carrying that.”

  “Catie, take the stupid bread.”

  “Ny, I’m wearing Marchesa. Read my lips, Mar-ches-a. I’m not carrying buttery bread in this ensemble. Call someone else to do that.”

  “Fine. I’ll just get Sophie to come in here to help us figure out why you are incapable of carrying bread.”

  “Ugh. You don’t play fair.” She grabbed the bread.

  “Never said I did.”

  Catie held the bread at arm’s length and dropped it in the center of the table. Marguerite reached across Carl to get a piece, and Joe picked up three slices. Aunt Deb rolled her eyes. Anaya slid into her seat and gave Carl’s hand a quick squeeze.

  “Ooh, this bread is delicious,” Marguerite crooned.

  “Chitty chitty bang bang. Even better warm.” Joe took a huge bite.

  “All right,” Troy said. “Game time!”

  “Not now, love muffin.” Riley put his hand on hers. “Let’s play a game later.”

  “Fine. Then let’s talk.” She said in her baritone and pushed back her chair. “Who thinks it’s okay to keep secrets from your partner?”

  Her question was met with initial silence. Anaya felt a pang of guilt. She hadn’t told Carl—or the girls—about her lunch with Jeff last week. Oh boy. How is this going to play out?

  “I’d rather play the game,” Catie mumbled.

  “Me too,” Ava said disapprovingly. “That’s not a fun topic.”

  Sophie was in the gleeful minority. “Now that’s deep right there.” Her eyes brightened and she pointed an approving finger at Troy. “Deep, my friend. Deep.”

  “Yeah. Too deep,” Marie said into her wine glass.

  “How did crickets get into the carpet?” Deb asked, standing up to examine her feet.

  “Secrets from your partner, Aunt Deb,” Marie said loudly. “Is it okay to keep secrets from your partner?”

  “Well, I know all about keeping secrets. I’ll tell y’all about it right after I find my passport. I left it right on that table over there.” And off she went into the living room.

  Riley seemed resigned to letting Troy talk about what she wanted. At one previous family gathering, her game had caused a serious dispute. Hopefully this time would be different.

  “I don’t think it’s good,” he finally said. He seemed hesitant to participate in the discussion.

  “I agree,” Roscoe said from his end of the table. “Anita and I never kept secrets. It’s not necessary.”

  “Okay, okay,” Troy said, nodding her head.

  “Under certain circumstances, it might be,” Marie said suddenly. All heads swiveled in her direction, and she sipped more wine.

  “I don’t know,” Sophie interjected, sighing dramatically. “Secrets create barriers and can be poisonous. They destroy the fabric of a relationship from the inside, and it is difficult, if not impossible, to rebuild trust once it’s destroyed. Eventually the secret will come out, so it’s best to either tell your partner or just not do anything that you have to keep secret.”

  Anaya and Catie exchanged looks. Sophie lived for these relationship topics, and it would be hard to stop her now.

  “It’s not always that simple,” Marie sniffed, gulping more wine.

  “Oh no?” Allen said, folding his arms and sitting back in his chair. “And why isn’t it?”

  “Well,” said Troy, oblivious to Marie and Allen’s rift. “Sometimes you keep secrets to protect a person or surprise a person or even to prevent an argument. It’s not always bad to keep secrets unless you are doing something wrong.”

  “It certainly is always bad,” said Allen, staring at Marie.

  And cut. Anaya jumped up. “I think it’s time for cake!” she declared. She almost ran into the kitchen and quickly returned with the three-layered double chocolate cake that she knew Roscoe would love. When everyone had a slice, Uncle Allen lifted his glass in a toast to Roscoe.

  “You’ve been through a lot and you are still standing. You are a good father and a good friend. Happy birthday, man.”

  “Here, here!” They all toasted Roscoe, and Marie led them in singing “Happy Birthday.”

  Roscoe glowed from the praise and attention. He didn’t like a lot of attention, but he was always happy to be surrounded by family and friends. This was the first time he’d celebrated a birthday since Anita died. Joshua jumped on his lap. Roscoe thanked everyone for coming.

  “Life is nothing without family,” he said, holding his water glass in the air. “To family.”

  “Here, here.”

  After another round of tea and coffee, the boys were falling asleep in their plates and Aunt Deb recalled another Uncle Farley story and asked for green olives. Ava and Joe packed up the boys and left with Riley and Troy right behind them.

  “Good night, niece. Everything was beautiful,” Riley said. Anaya hugged him goodbye and waved to Troy.

  “This was the most beautiful dinner ever, Anaya,” Deb gushed as she fastened her cloak around her shoulders then whispered, “I hope Marguerite didn’t eat too much and you have something for tomorrow.”

  “No, Auntie, it was fine,” Anaya said. When she hugged Marguerite, she whispered. “I’ll make it up to you.”

  “Drive safely, you two,” Anaya called after them as the pair departed.

  Roscoe and Allen went into the living room to watch Sports Center while Catie, Antoine, Jabari, and Marie sat at the dining room watching Anaya, Carl, and Sophie clean up.

  “That was fun, Ny,” Catie said, swirling her ginger ale.

  “Yeah, babe. I’m impressed,” Carl said, balancing several dishes on his arm as he walked to the kitchen. “Is there anything you can’t do?”

  She smiled and kissed him carefully on the lips as he passed by.

  “Nope,” Marie slurred, standing up for a refill. “She’s like her mama. She can do anything.”

  “Thanks for all of your help, you guys. I couldn’t have done it without you.” Anaya bumped Catie gently with her hip as she gathered the last dishes off the table. “I have one more party to plan, and then I’m done for the year.”

  “Yes ma’am,” Catie said. “My shower and I know it’s going to be bomb-dot-com. Just like this party was. Roscoe looked so happy.”

  “Bomb-dot-com, huh?” Anaya laughed. She deftly replaced Marie’s wine glass with a glass of water. Enough was enough for one night. “That’s a pr
etty high standard.”

  “Well,” Marie said, “if anyone . . . hic . . . can do bomb-dot-com . . . hic . . . it is my niece. Because she . . . hic . . . is the bomb.” Marie plopped into a chair and almost fell into Antoine’s lap.

  “Uh, Ny.” Catie raised an eyebrow and nodded towards Marie. “Get ya auntie.”

  “She’s okay,” Antoine said, helping Marie into her own chair. Marie sat back with her eyes closed.

  Catie turned to glare at him. “Oh, she is? So you like women falling all over your lap? Probably like them rubbing all over your body, too, huh?”

  “What? No.” Antoine protested. “I’m just saying she’s okay. It’s Aunt Marie. I know she had a few glasses of wine. Chill.”

  Anaya and Sophie exchanged a glance.

  Marie sat up, took a sip of water, then looked at the glass morosely. “I gave Allen . . . hic . . . two beautiful children. I made mistakes, I know I did, but I didn’t mess up all by myself. He hardly . . . hic . . . ever looks at me anymore, you know? I work out every day. I look damn good, and every compliment I receive comes from someone other than my husband. Can . . . hic . . . you imagine?”

  “Nope,” Catie said quickly. Anaya shot her a glare.

  “Affection . . . hic . . . and attention should come from my husband, not someone else,” Marie moaned.

  “Auntie, I think that’s enough. You want some coffee?” Anaya turned to Sophie. “Can you make some coffee?”

  “Anaya,” Catie said, putting her feet up on a chair. “You sure do know how to throw a party.”

  TWELVE

  The morning after Roscoe’s party, Anaya made omelets. She barely touched hers but drank two cups of coffee while Roscoe talked about the logistics of airstrikes. She had stayed up late putting the house back in order and thinking about her lunch with Jeff. The idea of working with him made her nervous. She didn’t know if they could just move forward like they didn’t have history. She nodded intermittently, only half-listening to her dad.

  “I guess I’ve probably already told you about the F-22 Raptor,” said Roscoe, sensing her distraction.

  “What?”

  He smiled. “I said I’ve already told you about the F-22. What’s going on baby girl? Talk to me.”