After lunch, while the boys and Robbie ran into the backyard with their step-grandfather – Walton – the women and Vera remain in the kitchen.
While Judith scrubs porcelain plates and glass cups in the left sink, Vera rinses and dries them before stacking them neatly in the rack beside the right sink.
Stacey is sitting at the small round table in the kitchen, running her fingers along her shoulder-length Fulani braids and listening to her mother speak to their step-grandmother.
She's a brown woman with silver, loosely curled hair and a chubby, unshapely body complimented by a fall-patterned dress.
"It's a shame what happened to your husband." Fiona lifts a dish of food from her fridge, and Judith glances over her shoulder at them, the sponge prying away the gunk on the plate. "When Walton told me the news, I almost cried with him. He was like a son to me."
You never even met him. What're you talking about?
"He talked about you," Sheryl lies, and Judith blinks back from surprise. "I wish we would've come around more and let the kids get used to – everything. I'm sure they feel like they're in the Twilight Zone."
"Well, our home is their home, and maybe tomorrow, they'll get more comfortable being here." Sheryl lifts the lid, and Fiona shakes the stiff stew into the wastebasket.
A hard thump against glass makes Judith and Vera flinch. The ladies turn to the sliding door, their faces showing worry as Stevie falls into Malcolm's arms. Judith and Vera leave their wet china and follow Sheryl to the patio door.
Sheryl draws it back and opens her mouth to speak, but nothing comes out.
"Did the child forget the door is glass," Fiona asks, and when Vera chuckles, Judith glares her into silence.
"He wanted to ask if we can walk to the candy store up the road, but yes, ma'am, I think he forgot it's glass." Vera and Judy step back as Sheryl pulls her son upright and into the kitchen. His eyes flicker left and right, and he stumbles on his feet.
"Will he need to go to the hospital," Vera asks. Fiona walks the bowl to the remaining few in the sink, and when she sits it down, she leans against the counter.
"I'm fine." Stevie dusts off his cardigan sweater and slacks without a noticeable jitter. "Ma, can we go?"
Judith furrows her eyebrows at how quickly he regained balance and his sudden shift in tone.
"Only if Judith agrees to go with you." She and Sheryl lock eyes, then turn to Vera. Fiona crosses her arms, and Stacey watches Robbie step around them.
"Momma, please, can I go too," Vera begs, and Sheryl nods. Robbie walks toward his wife with a musky trail of motor oil clutching his clothes.
"Excuse me? I'll need for you to go outside and hose off." Fiona stares sternly at him without blinking. "Now, I don't mind you helping Walton, but keep the smell outside."
"Yes, ma'am." He returns to the backyard, and they avert their attention to Sheryl.
"Yeah, I'll take them." The twins cheer before she can finish her answer, but when Malcolm clears his throat, Stevie forces himself to relax, and Judith makes a confused expression.
***
Stevie, Malcolm, and another boy named Isaiah stand in front of the white shotgun building's three steps while Judith and Vera order candy from the window.
"Check it. All I need is Babe Ruth, and my set is finished," Isaiah announces, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans.
"Babe Ruth don't count as a real Yankee," Malcolm says with contempt. Stevie's staring at a girl with a honey blonde ponytail and morning blue eyes standing in front of the door with her left cheek stuffed.
"Last I checked, he played for them," he argues, furrowing his eyebrows. "Besides, why do you care, if you get paid regardless?"
"Because that's my team too. Stevie, tell this fool you ain't supposed to mix players for a real set." They turn their heads to Stevie, then follow his gaze. Isaiah's eyes quickly dart forward, and he clears his throat. Malcolm taps his cousin's shoulder and steals his attention. "Listen, Carolina, I don't know how they do things over there, but here in Montgomery, you avoid white girls."
"I was just looking at her. What's the harm," he asks, shifting his focus between both boys with his brows drawn in confusion.
"Sometimes that's just enough to get you beat up," Isaiah warns him. "Her folks had my brother, Chris, arrested last year because she said he touched her."
"Well, that's illegal, isn't it?" Isaiah scoffs and rolls his eyes at his question. "What?"
"He touched her hand when he was paying for a soda," Malcolm explains monotonously. "But her Dad ain't let her finish talking before he had the Sheriff at their door. It's crazy 'round here, man, so don't get caught up in that."
They simultaneously turn their heads to look at her right when she descends the steps, and Malcolm and Isaiah groan together.
"Now, here comes Carrie," Isaiah mumbles to them as she walks toward them.
"Well, well, well." She stops between Malcolm and Isaiah, staring forward at Stevie. "I see you boys found me a date for Thanksgiving."
"He's not staying that long." They look at Isaiah when he forces the words from his mouth. "His folks just came by for a spell, but they'll be gone long before Thanksgiving."
"Well, I'll just have to hurry and get acquainted with him." They return their eyes to each other as Malcolm and Isaiah watch. "What's your name?"
"It's Stevie," he answers, then clears his throat.
"Like Steven," she asks. Judith takes the basket of candy and soda from the cashier, and he walks away from the window; they wait for him to return.
"No, like Stevie Wonder." The trio snickers and he looks around the group without a hint of a grin. "What?"
"You're a funny niggah, that's what," she says through laughter, her tongue pressing her candy to her cheek. Though the other boys chuckle – dry and insincere – they share glances of discomfort that let Stevie know he's not alone. She extends her right fist to him, and he stares at it. "I snuck a pack of Razzles out of my Pa's store. Open your hand so I can pour you some."
He lifts his chin to meet her blue eyes, then glances past her at his sisters carrying their candies and sodas.
"No thanks. My sister is coming, so I gotta go." She slowly drops her arm to her side and glances over her shoulder. Judith and Vera stroll past them at a slow pace, waiting for them to join. "But it was nice talking to you, Carrie."
Isaiah and Malcolm shoot each other a shocked look before taking each of his shoulders and guiding him away.
"Marianne, get away from them coloreds," her father yells with his sweaty head out of the window, and she jolts in her coveralls, dropping the small round candies in the dirt.
They watch her run inside before releasing their grip on him and exhaling breaths of relief.
"Why'd y'all let her call me that," Stevie asks them, and they glance at each other in disbelief.
"She says that to everyone," Malcolm tells him. "Besides, didn't you hear what we said about Chris? Sometimes you just need to let it roll off you like anything else."
"Why'd you call her Carrie?" Stevie looks at Isaiah.
"Because that's what you called her," he reminds him, and when the boys laugh, he rolls his eyes and speed walks to catch up with his sisters. He bumps Judith's left side, and she glances at him. "Can we go home?"
"Where do you think we're going? To the beach," she sarcastically asks, and he huffs his cheeks with simmering rage. "What's wrong with you?"
"Just leave me alone!" Judith blinks back, and she shares a glance with Vera.
***
Judy opens a door in the dimly lit hall, and to her left is Stevie lying on a bed with his knees bent upward.
"Hey, we're about to watch The Wiz," she tells him, but he doesn't respond or look away from his Jackie Robinson baseball card. "Fiona also made finger sandwiches, so if you wanna join us, then come on."
He takes a breath, sits up, and hangs his legs off the edge of the twin bed. She waits at the door, anticipating for him to stand, but he doesn't.
"Judy, can I ask you something?" He hangs his head and stares at her white socks. She notices his body trembling as if he's cold, and she steps over the threshold, shutting the door behind her.
"What's wrong?" Judith folds her arms and leans against the door, but when a tear drips onto his lap, she pushes herself up straight and knits her brows.
"Has – has someone ever," Stevie struggles to form his question, and she steps toward him, then sits to his left. "Has someone ever called you a – niggah?"
Her mind instantly falls silent as if it's on pause, and she stares at him with her lips agape. He's clutching his nicked card between his right index and middle finger, and he's sitting with his back slouched.
"Did someone call you that," Judith asks, her voice low. Stevie sniffles and sighs. Judy looks around the little room of floral print and creme-colored furniture.
"That girl from the store did." She doesn't respond, so he continues, "And Malcolm and Isaiah didn't say anything to her. They said I needed to let it go just because of what happened to Isaiah's brother."
"What happened to his brother," she asks, and he scoffs.
"He got arrested for touching that girl's hand – the girl at the store – but they thought she meant he touched her illegally." He sniffles, and she narrows her eyes in thought. "So because of his stupid mistake, I have to be insulted?"
"Stevie, I think you need to tell Mom," she says, and his eyes widen.
"No. No, no, no, I can't. She'll flip her lid and make me feel worse," he argues. "Don't tell her, Judy, please!"
"Then – what do you need me to do?" He shakes his head.
"Nothing. Forget I told you." Stevie wipes his face with the back of his hands and straightens his posture, his eyes downcast.
Judith stands off the bed and walks toward the door. Her hand hovers above the knob, and her palm reflects at her. They meet each other's gaze, and she sighs.
"Someone called me the same thing not too long ago," she tells him, and he wrinkles the skin above his nose bridge. "Her name is Mary, and she was my friend. I don't exactly remember what caused us to fall out, but it was something to do with David."
"She called you that because of him," Stevie asks, and Judith returns to her spot beside him.
"Probably. I don't know." She yanks the corner of her bottom lip between her teeth to remain calm, then says, "She was one of the many people telling me to leave him, but when I finally did, she started dating him. I saw a completely different person around then."
"And you still talk to her," Stevie asks, and she nods her head.
"Sometimes I want to ignore people or harm them the way they did me, but what I've learned this year is that sometimes it's best to kill them with kindness," Judith explains. "Let God handle them, and you go about your day."
"Where was God when David nearly made you kill yourself?" She falls silent for a moment, then takes a deep breath.
"Stevie, I'm sorry for that night. I didn't realize it until Stacey told me, but it affected you in ways much different, much worse, than me, and never in a million years would I ever want to hurt you." Judith throws her right arm around his back and holds his upper arm. "I love you, okay? I'll never do that to you or myself or anyone else again."
"Good," he says, his eyes brimming with tears. He wraps his arms around her and jolts into her chest, knocking the wind out of her lungs.
Jesus H, he's getting too big.
She hugs him back, but he breaks away when Vera opens the door.
"Momma said you two need to hurry up before they play the movie without you," she warns them, then furrows her brows when Stevie wipes away his tears. She cracks a smile and asks, "Are you crying?"
"Shut up," he yells, and Judith rushes to her feet.
"Vera, get out!" Judith points behind Vera, holding a stern look that sends her backing away and shutting the door. Judith looks at Stevie. "Are you joining us?"
"No." He lies back down and turns his back to her, staring at his card.
"Alright, well, don't forget to throw away your can of Tab," she says, glancing at the red and white can of soda on his nightstand.