The Build Up

Porter pulled out a seat for me at the massive table directly across from his brother Todd and Kim. Todd looked up from his drink and smirked. Either Todd didn’t like me, or he was really feeling his bourbon. A small waitstaff brought out portions of the food to be served at the table. Eloise said she had everything catered, except the gumbo. She couldn’t bring herself to have someone else handle that. Everyone laughed as Desmond proclaimed he didn’t care who cooked the food just as long as there was plenty of curry goat.

After Desmond said grace, everyone passed around the myriad of dishes. I was so overwhelmed that I decided I would simply just try a little of everything. I mean, everything looked so delicious. Plus, I had to make room for Eloise’s gumbo. Just as I was scooping out a small portion of the curry goat and passing the bowl to one young lady, I felt Porter’s hand on my knee. I looked over at him and smiled.

“So, you two, how is the design for the soccer stadium coming?” Eloise asked. She passed the rice and peas to her husband, who greedily piled his plate high.

“Oh yes, real football deserves a real stadium,” chimed Desmond with a smile. “I can finally enjoy a game instead of that nonsense you all call football.” Everyone laughed. Well, everyone except Todd.

“It’s going really well,” said Porter. “Ari has an amazing design eye. She added these vineyard-type slopes to the fan experience. I think her designs have pleased the Serrano brothers.” I could feel myself blushing. No one had bragged so much about my work, especially not a colleague. It felt amazing.

“Yes,” I echoed. “I think that the Serrano brothers really like what we’re doing. Porter is adding some really nice, high-concept design touches as well.”

Eloise looked at both of us and smiled. “You two seem to work together well.”

“We’re finding our groove,” said Porter. I felt his hand once again on my knee.

The waitstaff brought out small bowls of gumbo topped with beds of rice. Eloise smiled. “Everyone eat up. It’s Senior’s recipe!” Porter smiled at his brother. Todd raised his replenished glass of bourbon in silent tribute. I tasted the gumbo. The spices danced on my tongue. It was literally the best I had ever had in my entire life.

“Amazing, Eloise,” I whispered to her.

She smiled and patted my hand. “Thanks, sweetheart. But all the credit belongs to Senior.”

As the waitstaff served more gumbo, everyone sat at the table, enjoying each other’s conversation. I learned about how Kim and Todd met as law students and the pressures of her job in the district attorney’s office. She said it was an “old boys’ club” and there was no room for a Black woman at the top. I nodded, feeling empathetic. It was part of the reason I left Chicago. Even if Maurice hadn’t sabotaged me, the old guard would only let me go so far before I hit that glass ceiling. I had hope that I could grow at Riddle and Robinson. No glass ceiling in sight.

“Porter, I’m really proud of you, son!” said Desmond. “After this stadium, partnership is within reach for you.”

“Ughhhh!” groaned Todd. “All fucking day! Porter this! Porter that! Porter’s building a soccer stadium. Porter’s bringing a friend to Thanksgiving. You’ve all been ass-kissing and fawning over your precious Porter! Who gives a shit!”

The entire dining room was so quiet, you could hear folks’ thoughts. I looked at Porter whose eyes were shooting flaming hot daggers in his brother’s direction. His nostrils flared. “Dude, what the entire fuck is wrong with you!”

“Hey!” Eloise yelled. “Have the two of you lost your ever-loving minds to think you can curse in my house! Do you think you’re that grown?”

“No, ma’am. Sorry,” said Porter apologetically to his mother.

“Todd, what is wrong with you?” questioned Eloise. “You need to apologize to the table right now.”

“For what? The truth?” Todd continued sipping his bourbon.

“Bro, you need to fucking chill. Shit’s embarrassing!” Porter yelled, reaching across the table at Todd’s drink. Todd, despite being tossed, snatched the drink from Porter, sloshing the brown liquid all over the ivory table linens that I was sure cost a fortune.

Eloise let out a horrified gasp. “The two of you! Stop this!”

The table had gone still. Even the teenage girls had stopped gossiping. I feared that they were going to broadcast this entire fight on TikTok.

A hesitant member of the waitstaff brought out what appeared to be slices of my caramel pound cake to the table. I should have been happy that Eloise chose to share my cake with everyone but in that moment, I was hurt that she had to see her sons having what seemed to be a cyclical fight.

“I think I’ll take my cake to the other room. Ari, pleasure meeting you.” I watched as Todd snatched the dessert plate from the table, along with a fork, and tramped out of the dining room.

A few folks began murmuring about Todd’s behavior, embarrassing his “legacy,” but Eloise clapped her hands together, like the seasoned teacher she was, bringing the chatter to a halt. “Everyone, I’m sorry for that. Please, enjoy the cake that Ari so graciously baked for us.” Eventually, everyone began to dig into dessert and resumed their previous conversations.

Porter finally sat down, then turned to me, his voice low. “I’m so sorry you had to see that, Ari.”

“Hey, my family has had some lively Thanksgivings. You should see when we get the spades table going.” I chuckled, uncomfortably.

Porter shook his head. “Todd is...listen, I’ll understand if you want to leave.”

“Porter, don’t apologize. Seems like Todd has some things he’s going through.”

“Thanks for understanding. We’re trying to get him under control. It’s been tough.”

“I get it.” I smiled, squeezing Porter’s knee. “But I’m not leaving. Besides, after eating all this good food, I think it may be physically impossible for me to leave. That gumbo was serious! I probably could use a nap.”

“Word?” Porter chuckled. “I got the perfect place to chill post-dinner. Let’s head to the sunroom. There’s a TV there. We can wrap up under the blanket, light the fire pit, and see who loses the games. Neither one of us has a dog in the fight.”

I smiled. “That sounds wonderful.”

As we rose from the table, I noticed a look of worry etched across Eloise’s face as Des held her hand. I stopped, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

Eloise looked up with a soft smile and patted my hand resting on her shoulder. “Oh, my dear. I’m fine. Embarrassment never killed anyone. Drama is par for the course it seems in this family. It’s nothing we can’t handle. We’ll talk to Todd. Don’t let this run you off, now.”

I looked at Porter, who stood waiting for me at the doorway to the hall. A genuine smile finally on his face.

“I’m not going anywhere.”



Chapter Twenty-One


Porter


The intro music to the evening news was just beginning as I woke up, buried under another thicker plaid blanket. I smiled, know that it had to have been my mother that added the extra layer of warmth. Ari was still napping, her head resting on my shoulder. She looked so at peace, so comfortable here with me. I buried my nose in her hair, smelling the familiar scent of her tropical conditioner. The gas fire pit was low, providing an amber glow in the dim sunroom. As I moved my arm, Ari stirred.

“Hey, sleeping beauty.”

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