Page 168 of Tainted

“So, doc, what do you think? A boy or a girl,” I asked, causing Zara to suck her teeth.

“Slow down, Dad,” Dr. Allen directed, joining Shana’s laughter. “Baby is only eight weeks. We’ll get there when it’s time.”

It didn’t really matter if it was a boy or a girl. It was half of Zara, so it would be perfect no matter what.

35

Zara

Life felt complete again. My parents had officially moved back to Northbridge, and I couldn’t believe how tall Sasha was. I was glad she didn’t because I needed my mom more than I realized. Banana Girl did, too, so she insisted on having a family dinner for old-time’s sake.

When Mom reminded her she didn’t need to be standing in the kitchen slaving over a meal for us, I was shocked that Banana Girl agreed. Then she replied,‘Oh, I won’t be because all of your black asses will be helping.’

And by all, she meant all. Misa included. I had filled Mom in on our hospital debacle in case Misa tried to come in and play the disrespected adult role. She hadn’t gotten here yet, but Banana Girl had Sasha elbow-deep in a bowl of dough, learning to knead. My mom was chopping onions, her eyes watering, but she worked through it like a pro. Nana didn’t raise us to be soft in the kitchen.

I was peeling potatoes, stealing glances at Sasha as she worked under Nana’s watchful eye. Sasha had that teenage look of mild frustration, but I could tell she wanted to impress Nana, especially since she’d been so distant from the family for so long.

“Don’t pound it like that, child. Fold it over gently, like this,” Banana Girl said, her hands guiding Sasha’s.

The door creaked, and I looked up. The air shifted as she stepped into the room. Misa’s heels clicked on the floor, wearing a look like she didn’t quite belong here, but she was going to try.

Mom’s knife paused mid-chop, and Sasha’s hands stilled in the dough. Even Banana Girl’s usual smile faltered before she quickly recovered.

“Well, look who decided to show up.”

Misa stepped closer, hugging Banana Girl while her eyes swept over to Mom.

“You didn’t leave me much choice,” Misa replied, but her voice was calm, distant. I couldn’t tell if she was making an effort or just showing up for appearances.

“You came by yourself?” Mom asked, noticing nobody trailed in behind Misa.

“Yup, just me today.”

Mom groaned and returned to the stove.

“Sasha, get over here and hug your Aunt Misa,” Banana Girl ordered while Brandy focused on the potatoes we were stuck peeling.

Sasha looked between us but followed Banana Girl’s attempt to keep the peace.

“Here,” she said, pointing to the counter. “You can start the green beans.”

Misa hesitated momentarily, then slowly walked to the counter and accepted the task. My mom and I exchanged glances, and I knew we were both thinking the same thing.

I returned to peeling potatoes, focusing on the rhythm to calm myself. Kenyon and my dad were still at the store, picking up last-minute things Banana Girl forgot to write down.

“I didn’t think you’d come in so quiet. You had so much to say when I wasn’t here,” Mom stated.

Misa’s eyes shot to me before rolling them but It didn’t hurt my feelings any, my allegiance was to my Mom.

“Shana, please!” Banana Girl erupted. “Can we have one dinner as a family?”

“No, mama! It’s always Shana, please, and never Misa cut it out. I wasn’t here because I couldn’t be! You could’ve but chose to turn your back and pretend Mama wasn’t your problem. You had Brandy trying to take care of Mama all by herself when you’re right here! It’s wrong, and everybody in this kitchen knows it!”

“I’m so sorry I can’t be perfect like you, Shana!”

“Perfect,isn’t how you described her at the hospital,” I mumbled, forgetting Banana Girl had the ears of a bloodhound and popped me with the metal spoon.

“I’m not perfect. Those are your insecurities.”

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