The four of them move around, setting the table, making the final preparations to the food. They never decide on a place.
I wonder what it would be like to go on a family vacation. Mom and I have never traveled anywhere together. One day I’m going to take her somewhere. Somewhere far from Oregon. Someplace you have to get on a plane in order to get to.
Mr. and Mrs. Winters come back downstairs, and we all go into the dining room. The food on the table looks so elegant. Like a feast for a royal family, but it’s really just baked macaroni and cheese, greens, candied yams, and ox tails with white rice. I wonder how it tastes, wonder if anything that looks this fancy can still taste how soul food is supposed to taste.
I sit down, Maxine beside me. She takes the folded linen napkin off her plate and drapes it on her lap, telling me with her eyes to do the same. I do.
After Mr. Winters prays over the food, I take the fork closest to my plate and begin to eat. Maxine gently taps me on my leg and whispers, “Wrong fork. Use the one farthest from the plate and work your way in throughout dinner.”
I already have salad dressing on my fork and I know better than to lick it off and place the fork back on the table, so I just freeze.
“It’s okay,” Nathan says. He picks up the wrong fork too and starts eating. He winks at me and I keep eating, but for the rest of dinner, I am careful to watch what Maxine does.
The first bite of food is so good, I almost moan out loud. That’s what we do at my house. The first five minutes is me and E.J. moaning and telling Mom, “Oh my goodness, this is so good,” and “Mmm. Yes, yes.” But I get the feeling that’s not what Maxine’s family does.
Once we’re good into the meal, Mrs. Winters says, “So let’s do our check-ins.” She turns to her husband.
“Nothing new around here,” he says. “I sold the house in Laurelhurst.”
The room echoes with congratulations.
Mia is next. She finishes swallowing her food, takes a sip of her wine, and then says, “Work is amazing. I just put up a show of local emerging artists. We’re getting lots of foot traffic.” Mia takes another sip of her drink. “Tim and I are doing well. He sends his love. He really wanted to be here, but he’s on call tonight and had to go in.”
When she says this, Maxine whispers to me, “Her husband is a doctor.”
Mia tosses a look to Nathan, who is sitting next to her. “And you?”
“All is well at the firm,” Nathan says. “Work is work, you know. Same thing, different day.” He puts his arm around his wife. “I’ll let Abby tell you our real news.”
Mrs. Winters puts her fork down. “I knew it! I knew it!”
Abby chuckles. “We don’t know the sex yet. The sonogram is next week,” she says.
Mrs. Winters gets out of her seat and hugs Abby, squeezing her tight. Mr. Winters pats Nathan on his back. “Congratulations, son. My boy, a father.” He shakes his head.
I look at Maxine, who is the only one not smiling. She rakes her yams from one side of the plate to the other, never taking a bite. Once she sees me staring at her, she snaps out of it, smiles, and gets up to hug Abby. “I can’t believe I’m going to be an auntie,” she says. “I’m going to be the baby’s favorite. Just saying.”
Everyone is so excited about Nathan’s announcement that the family check-in stops, and all Mrs. Winters can do is make plans for the baby shower. No one asks Maxine if she has any news. I can tell Maxine is hurt by this. Because when Mia says, “We should paint a mural in the baby’s nursery. That would be so much fun, wouldn’t it, Maxine?” Maxine says, “Yeah, sure. That would be awesome,” but her voice is flat and without emotion.
Mrs. Winters brings out dessert. I am still eating, but I notice that everyone else has left a little bit on their plates, so I do too. In my house, there is no wasting food. Not one morsel of it. But here, I think it’s some way of showing you don’t eat too much, that you are saving room for dessert.
Everyone gawks over how beautiful the cake is. “Jade picked it,” Maxine says.
Mr. Winters looks at me. “Great choice,” he says.
We eat dessert—the best cake I’ve ever had—and then Mrs. Winters pushes her chair back from the table. “Jade, honey, would you please rescue my family from these calories and take some of this food home?”
“Oh, that’s okay. No, I—I don’t want to take your—”
“I insist,” she says.
She smiles and gets up from the table and goes into the kitchen. “Come.”
I follow her.
Mrs. Winters makes five Tupperware containers for me. And there’s food wrapped in foil, and a bottle of sparkling cider. She places the food in a canvas tote bag. Then she cuts a few slices of cake. “My husband will finish this off tonight if you don’t take some,” she says. She wraps the slices of cake individually.
Maxine comes into the kitchen. She sees the stuffed bag and says, “Mom, there are only three people who live there. I think that’s good.”
“Well, this way they can have seconds,” Mrs. Winters says. “Would you like me to make you a to-go plate too, Max?” She says this with less generosity in her voice.
“No, thank you.”
“You sure? I’m only trying to help. Not like you’re working or anything—”
“Mom. I said no, thank you.”
I walk over to the sofa and sit down. I know it isn’t like I can’t still hear them, but for some reason it feels better to be over here instead of in the middle of them.
“Well, honey, now don’t get upset. You know I worry about you. It’s very nice what you’re doing with Jade,” she says.
Maxine whispers—kind of. Her voice is low, but I am close enough that I still hear her. “Mom, it’s not just nice what I’m doing with Jade. Woman to Woman is making a difference in her life. I was hoping that by bringing her here, you’d see I am doing something that matters.” Then she lowers her voice even more and walks farther away from me.