Chapter Fourteen
The wrought iron storm door was the first change Taylor noticed about her mother-in-law’s house. “That’s beautiful,” she told Lance as they walked inside. The next thing she noticed was the upgraded fireplace with wooden panels and marble floor. Lance’s Home Depot work experience had clearly paid off. Gram’s house was definitely ready for sale.
Lance’s two sisters and their families were already in the house when Taylor arrived. As requested by Gram, her children needed to be there before the other guests showed up. Gizelle’s oldest son relieved Taylor of the pie cases she was carrying and took them into the next room. The kids ran upstairs to join their older cousins, and Taylor admired the rest of Lance’s handiwork. The new paint job and moldings, coupled with the natural shine of the cherrywood floors, did wonders for the room.
“Wait until you look upstairs,” Lance said and helped Taylor out of her coat.
“Let me say hello to Gram first,” Taylor said. She didn’t want to start out the day on wrong foot. “But I’m loving this. Now you know I expect the same for our house.”
“Anything for you, sweetheart.”
As Taylor approached the kitchen, she noticed her pie trays sitting on a serving table. Next to them, she also noticed that someone had baked two additional pies—one apple and the other a peach cobbler. She knew that was Gizelle’s work of art. Taylor took a deep breath and mouthed, “Increase my patience.”
“Happy Thanksgiving,” she announced when she walked into the kitchen, where the Belle women were hard at work preparing for dinner.
“Thanks, baby,” Gram said. She stopped stirring the pot of gravy and gave Taylor a kiss.
Crystal, Lance’s older sister and a replica of Gram, brushed small amounts of butter on her homemade rolls, and Gizelle cut chunks of cheddar and Colby-Jack cheese for her vegetable and cracker trays. Both sisters returned the holiday greeting and continued their assignments.
Taylor studied the upgraded kitchen—granite countertops, dual and deep porcelain sinks, stainless steel dishwasher, refrigerator, and oven. Although she wanted to maintain her mother’s home in its original form, she was having second thoughts. “The kitchen looks great,” she said.
Gram dumped a small amount of flour inside the gravy pot and stirred it vigorously. “My boy sure outdid himself.”
“What can I help with?” Taylor asked. She loved to cook too, and missed the opportunity to bake more than just the three pies.
“Let’s see,” Gram said, scanning the numerous items still needing attention. “Why don’t you finish the lemonade?”
Making beverages wasn’t exactly what Taylor had in mind, but this wasn’t her house, and she wasn’t in charge. Taylor accepted the task and sat next to Crystal, who was now slicing mushrooms and green peppers for a chopped salad.
Lance and Joi poked their heads in the kitchen and smiled. “This is how I like to see my women,” Lance teased.
“You better get out of here before we give you something to do,” Gram said.
“We ought to make you do something,” Gizelle remarked. “Thanks to you, my baby wants a tattoo.”
Taylor frowned. Was there anything Lance didn’t tell his family?
“You know my daughter’s a trendsetter.” Lance patted Joi on the back.
“I guess it could’ve been worse,” Gizelle stated. “My son knows I don’t play. I wish he would come in my house with a tattoo. He’d need more than Jesus to tear me off him.”
To keep from commenting, Taylor squeezed the lemons as hard as she could. Gizelle was not going to get under her skin today.
Crystal, a single mother of three adult children, turned to Taylor. “My kids pulled fast ones on me all the time.”
For lack of anything better to say, Taylor replied, “It was a team decision. They thought it was a cool thing to do.”
“The whole team got one?” Gram asked Joi. “Lord, I pray you won’t be like those players whose bodies are covered in ink. I hear those things can be addictive.”
“Don’t read so much into this, ladies. She won’t get another one.” Lance looked at an obviously annoyed Taylor and winked then turned to Joi. “Ain’t that right, Boss?”
Taking the matter a little too lightheartedly for Taylor’s taste, Joi dragged out her response. “I promise I won’t get another one.”
“Well, let us see it,” Gizelle said, and Joi glanced at Taylor. “Oh she might as well model it, Tay. We all know it’s there. Besides, you never know, I might get one,” she joked.
Taylor didn’t find anything funny, but gave her child the go-ahead. Joi lifted her shirt and posed, and all eyes fell on her lower back.
Gram walked away from the stove to get a better look. She placed the glasses that hung from a chain around her neck on her eyes. “What’s that say? Boss Lady?” Gram touched Joi’s back. “Why’d you get those flames?”
“ ’Cause I’m on fire, Gram,” Joi replied proudly, and Taylor moaned softly.
“Child, you don’t have to mark yourself to prove you’re good on the court. People can see your talent when you play. You kids are something else,” Gram said and went back to the stove to check on her candied yams.
Lance interrupted the moment. “Okay, you’ve all seen it. Now, Joi, let’s go before the store closes.”
Gram lowered the flame on the stove and looked at Taylor when they were gone. “I can’t believe how fast she’s growing up. You better keep a good eye on her.”
Without realizing it, Taylor threw the lemon in her hand on the table. She poured a cup of sugar into the pitcher and stirred it until all the grains had dissolved. “Lance and I are trying some new things, but I think we’ve got it under control.”
“Gram is just looking out for her grandchildren,” Gizelle said in response to Taylor’s defensive manner. “Joi told me that she had a midnight curfew. That’s pretty late.”
Taylor hated being in the hot seat. She wanted to broadcast information about Gizelle’s sons, but held her tongue. She would not stoop to her level. At least not today. “Joi works at the store on weekends, and as a reward, she is allowed to spend time with friends.” That was really none of their business, but she resented being picked on. “She goes to a friend’s house or to a movie, but a reliable source always brings her home, if that’s what you’re concerned about. I don’t let her catch public transportation after hours.”
Taylor couldn’t believe she was defending her daughter. They still hadn’t made amends, but the Belle women didn’t need to know that either. “Things could be worse. She could be using my car and having accidents.” Taylor cut her eyes at Gizelle. Her son had taken her brand-new Maxima without permission a few weeks ago and ran into a parked car. According to Lance, that wasn’t the first time he’d done that. It was also the main reason why Gizelle was so firm on chauffeuring her thirteen-year-old around and enforcing an early curfew.
Gizelle looked as if she was ready for battle. “The older your children get, the more supervision they need.”
Taylor didn’t mean to, but she snapped. “Sometimes the tighter the rein you put on your kids, the worse they become. It’s been my experience that kids whose parents are too strict rebel.”
“I thought I was gonna lose my mind when my husband died,” Crystal butt in.
Of the three, she was the least confrontational.
“It’s amazing how different your kids can be,” she added, “and what works for one doesn’t always work for the other. Even after raising my girls, I felt like I was still learning how to be a parent to my son. Being a mom is hard.”
Gram silenced all of the women. “All I had to do was put my children in Jesus’ hands. It wasn’t always easy, but I have no complaints.”
Taylor got up from the table and placed the finished lemonade in the refrigerator. She didn’t offer to help with anything else. She was ready to leave their presence.
“Well,” Gizelle started again, “I went to Joi’s game on Tuesday. She had thirty points. Lance told me her father used to be that good, too.” The room grew silent, and Gizelle dumped a mound of crab dip in the center of her appetizer trays. “Have you spoken to him lately?”
“Gizelle!” Gram bawled.
Crystal got up from the table and poured herself a glass of cranberry juice. She didn’t want any part of the conversation.
“What?” Gizelle asked, as if she had said nothing wrong. “Joi told me she knew the truth. So it’s no secret anymore. And it’s about time.”
Taylor wanted to explode. Gizelle knew Taylor hadn’t heard from Jerome. Why was she instigating? Increase, Taylor said to herself, though she wanted to scream it out loud. She hadn’t realized Joi and her aunt were so close.
Gram tapped Gizelle’s back and said, “That’s enough. It might be a blessing that Jerome hasn’t been around. Now, let’s stop chatting and get ready. Everyone should be here in an hour.” She turned around and opened the oven. The turkey was almost a nice golden brown. Gram based the huge bird one last time then said, “This is the last time I’ll be in this house for Thanksgiving. Let’s try to be thankful for all the good years we’ve spent here.”
Lance entered the kitchen carrying a bag of onions. “You still need these?” he asked Gram, unaware of the tension in the room.
Gram wiped her hands on her apron and kissed her son. “You’re a lifesaver. I almost forgot I asked for them.”
Lance dropped the bag in an empty space on the counter and stood next to his wife. “Ready for that tour?”
Lance had no idea how ready Taylor was. Walking two steps ahead of him, Taylor prayed she’d be able to get through dinner without harming Gizelle.