“Mama’s always right.” Banks chuckled. “But if you got a really nice-looking Black woman in your kitchen. . .shit. . .something about those hips make a brother like me want to get a frying pan out and cook her up somethingjustright.”
The crowd erupted in laughter and even Chef Foo cracked a smile, raising his beer in salute.
“Food, Banks!” Jo yelled. “This is a Grill Off. Not Dancing with the Stars or an Who’s the Best Comic contest. Food. Get back to it.”
Banks shot Jo a middle finger. “There’s always going to be haters in your life, people. Just stand strong and God will make it right.”
Then Banks turned serious as the staff started to serve his three dishes.
Let’s see if he can beat Chef Foo.
I smirked.
I doubt it.
However. . .this fiercely delicious aroma hit me while the staff began plating our dishes near the grill and the scents were rich and comforting. In fact, the smells made my stomach rumble despite being halfway full from Chef Foo’s food.
Okay. He has me drooling a little bit.
That was a big deal because I was pissed with him for starting this cookout off on a ridiculously stupid note. I was hoping with this Grill Off that he might get humbled this evening with an embarrassing loss.
“So check this out, guys! I’m not classically trained like Chef Foo over here,” Banks began. “I can’t tell you the history of barbecue for the States, at least not any factual shit, but I can tell you what Big Mama told me. Anybody ever had a Big Mama?”
Some of the people looked confused.
Banks touched his chest. “That’s what I called my grandma.”
Many of the confused people now nodded their head.
Aunt Betty’s voice rang out. “Tell them what she said, baby! Go on!”
Moni turned to Jo with raised eyebrows. “Did you give Aunt Betty gummies because she is lit up like a goddamn Christmas tree?”
“Girl. . .” Jo ashed her joint on the ground. “Where do you think I got the gummies from in the first place?”
“No wonder,” Moni muttered.
Banks wiped away more sweat. “Big Mama told me that some Spanish explorers showed up in the West Indies, Jamaica and Cuba and saw the Taínos cooking meat on open flames. They had never seen any shit like that before in their life.”
I quirked my brows.
“And of course you know how colonizers be. . .the motherfuckers named itbarbacoalike they invented it or something.” Banks shrugged. “Big Mama knew a lot of shit so. . .may she rest in peace.”
“Rest in peace.” Moni let out a small, sad sigh and I gently squeezed her hand under the table.
“Anyway,” Banks’ expression grew more animated as he dove into his story. “When I was six, Big Mama caught me trying to sneak outside. She said, ‘Boy, you got the devil in you. Get overhere and help me shell these peas.’ I gave her the sweetest smile and said, ‘Big Mama, I was just going outside to see the sun and thank Jesus.’ She sucked her teeth and said, ‘You’re a goddamn lie. Get over here.’”
The crowd roared with laughter.
“I hated shelling peas, especiallythatday because Big Mama was right. I was walking right with the devil that afternoon. I’d stolen matches and five dollars from her purse and was about to buy firecrackers to blow up some shit in strangers' cars just to see what would happen.” Banks paused and he gazed at the stars for a second, before turning back to us. “But Big Mama always knew when I was about to be up to no good.”
I checked Jo and even Moni.
Both had these sad smiles on their faces.
I glanced over at Chloe and while she was clearly sipping wine, she also wore that same sad smile.
And I didn’t know why, but my chest swelled with this strange warmth. I could tell that although they’d all experienced the loss of their grandmother, these memories that Banks was bringing up, were giving them a lot of comfort too.