Page 215 of Lovers' Dance

After glugging down some water she nodded, eyes streaming and a trickle of moisture running down her chin. Matt picked up a napkin and began dabbing at the water on her chin and the resulting moisture around her eyes from the choking episode.

“I’m fine, Matt,” she croaked, stopping him from his ministrations. Matt cupped one side of her face with his hand and kissed her lightly across the mouth, relieved she was indeed okay. Madi pulled back as if stung, giving him incredulous eyes. Matt arched an eyebrow at her, silently daring her to make an issue out of that fleeting show of affection he had given her in front of everyone. She narrowed her doe eyes at him, the action a silent promise of pending retaliation and Matt winked at her. God. He loved her.

David cleared his throat, breaking the silent communication between Matt and his poppet. When Matt glanced at him, the burly black man’s gaze had changed from suspicious to downright threatening. Maybe he shouldn’t have kissed her in front of them. They were her de facto parents, and no father is completely comfortable with his daughter’s boyfriend. It seemed that behaviour extended to Madi and her uncle. He felt the need to point out she was twenty-seven not sixteen but, wisely, bit his tongue while smiling pleasantly at the man.

“So,” Madi started in a cheery voice. It was slightly raspy though, and Matt hoped she didn’t have a subsequent coughing fit. “Who’s coming for Thanksgiving dinner on Thursday, Auntie Cleo?”

Matt let their conversation wash over him, contributing when required, answering their questions when asked, and letting Madi openly hold his hand on top of the tablecloth. Hand holding she was fine with. Matt wondered what she would do if he tried to kiss her again. Probably smack him, then let her aunt smack him. Jenny kept staring at their entwined hands while peeking at her mother. Jamal had a smirk on his face as he exchanged glances with his father. And Madi kept smiling at them.

“You should’ve seen him, Auntie Cleo.” She gave him a distracted look before turning back to her aunt. “Matt totally eviscerated the interviewer. The poor man was stammering and sweating on national TV. Serves him right though, his questions were out of order. Weren’t they, Matt?”

He nodded in agreement, squeezing her hand gently. “Yes, they were, poppet.”

“Puppet.” Jenny spoke up, eyeing Madi with derision. “Why is he calling you that? Is it like a puppet on a string? Cos that’s bullsh—”

“Jenny.” Cleo simply said her name and Jenny lowered her head, suddenly finding her fork interesting.

“It’s a nickname, Jenny,” Madi explained. “Like sweetie or whatnot.”

“Strangest nickname I’ve ever heard,” Jamal added dryly. “Makes you think of a marionette.”

“Well, it’s spelt differently. It’s British slang and a term of endearment,” Madi replied with a touch of temper. Matt leaned back in his chair, quietly pleased at her bristling defence of the nickname he’d given her. “You guys won’t get it. You’re not English.”

Like we are.Those unspoken words seemed to be on the tip of her tongue. She hastily looked at her aunt, expression changing into one of supplication for whatever slight she thought she had made. Matt squeezed her hand in subtle support. Madi was English, her deceased mother was English-born. Madi’s maternal grandparents were West Indian immigrants who had come over to England hoping to make a better life for themselves. All this Matt knew from the brief background check on her.

“Whoa,” Jamal held his hands up in a defeated manner. “Chill out, cuz. You jet-lagged or something?”

“It was a long flight,” Matt interjected smoothly, aware of the tiny change in Madi’s demeanour. “Jamal, you’ve recently started work in construction with your father, yes?”

“For the time being. I want to get out of it,” he replied.

Madi tugged on his fingers to get his attention as she advised proudly, “Jamal is good with computers, Matt. He’s got a degree from NYU in computer engineering.”

“That hasn’t gotten him anywhere,” Jenny added with a smirk.

Cleo gave her daughter a dirty look as she drawled, “At least he has a degree. What about you, Jennifer?”

“Thanks, Ma,” Jamal said with a smug smile, as he and Madi exchanged knowing looks. David sighed loudly and continued eating. Matt was amazed at the amount of food Madi’s uncle was shovelling down his mouth.

Jenny got defensive, her knife and fork clattering on her plate as she stared at her mother. Matt hid his amusement behind his glass as he took a sip of water. It seemed this was an ongoing contentious issue within the family, and he was about to witness firsthand how it played out. Airing one’s business in front of guests was outside the norm for him, but he had to admit a secret delight at observing Madi’s family. They were different from his family, and not in the obvious way of race, but in their behaviour.

“I am planning on—”

“Planning.” Cleo snorted. “Always planning. It’s time to stop planning and get doing, girl.”

David sighed, putting down his utensils and pushing his chair back. It appeared he was making his escape. Matt’s curiosity increased.

“How you gonna come at me like that, Ma?” Jenny groused. “You always take Jamal’s side.”

Jamal twisted in his chair, one arm slung over the back of it, as he grinned at his sister. “Because I’m working, Jen.”

“Snap,” Madi muttered under her breath. She looked over at him and mouthed “sorry.” Matt waved it away, gaze locked on the building tension between Cleo and Jenny. Was this where Madi had gotten her temper from? Having to live with these two women?

“I’m sick of you guys talking down to me.” Jenny fumed. “Embarrassing me in front Madi’s rich man—”

“Whoa.” Madi jumped into the verbal fray. “Leave Matt out of this. And Auntie Cleo’s right, Jenny-penny. You need to start—”

“Oh, shut up, Madi,” Jenny sneered. “Don’t tell me what to do. You don’t live here anymore.”

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