Page 118 of Memories Like Fangs
I nodded, unsure how else to expand on any of that.
Auntie Titi’s eyes widened with shock. “Girl! I haven’t seen you since you were a little itty-bitty thing! Oh, my gods, would you just take a look at you?! All grown-up now!”
“She’s a pretty grown dragon, too. She beat my ass out there earlier,” Ayrie said, smirking and shaking her head playfully. “I never thought I would see the day.”
“You shut your mouth, honey! Really? Little Byrdie was the cause of all that fuss out there?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I blushed, basking in my Auntie Titi’s admiration. There was something about praise from an older black woman, like the universe saying you are definitely going in the right direction.
“Mmhmm, now ain’t that something! I bet your Momma and Daddy are so proud of you! How have they been? Where are they now? I haven’t heard from y’all in so long!”
My smile faltered then. My heart sank. So, they didn’t know. This was the moment I had been scared of the most. How did I tell them? HowcouldI tell them? Where do I even begin? I gripped my mom’s necklace so tightly that the stone bit into my palm.
Suddenly, a blanket of warm reassurance fell upon me, stilling my shaking hands and calming my quickening pulse. It was like someone had squeezed my hand, sending strength and love through the touch. I glanced up. Instantly, I met Quinn’s eyes in the other room. Like a beacon, they steadied me. I gave her a small smile of gratitude that she returned with a wink before Bryson pulled her attention back to an action figure she was showing her.
I swallowed deeply. “I guess y’all don’t know, do you?”
Auntie Titi’s eyebrows furrowed. “Don’t know what, sugar?”
“Mom and Pops… they… well, they died a few years ago.”
Both Ayrie’s and Auntie Titi’s mouths dropped to the floor. Their glasses slipped from their hands. Before they could fall to the floor or even spill a drop, I halted their descent. Then, I used my connection to the crystals in the cups to place them back on the table.
For a few moments, the only sound was Bryson’s and the others’ giggles as he played. Ayrie’s man rubbed circles into her back, unsure what else to do, glancing between me and her with eyes full of uncertainty. I didn’t have any ideas myself. The only thing I could think to do was give them as much time as they needed to process the news.
Auntie Titi was the first to gather herself. “Byrd, no! Youhaveto be kidding.”
I shook my head. “I sincerely wish I were.”
Then, I took a deep breath and caught them up on eveything: Mom’s death, the Forget-Me-Maybe spell that Talli had to cast to save my life, Pops and Max’s death, moving in with Everett in Blackbell, Quinn seeing my scars, the energy vampire attack on my birthday, Quinn’s ex, my first shift, finding Mom’s remains, Lilah, and now. By the time I was done, Ayrie and Auntie Titi were in tears. Poor baby Bryson was asleep in Quinn’s arms in the other room. Having left at some point, Ayrie’s husband returned with a box of tissues. Auntie Titi took one to wipe away her tears.
“Byrd. I’m so very sorry, baby. We have always wondered what happened when we didn’t see you at Christmas that year. When we tried to reach out, we never could find any of you. That was before social media, you know, so we worried and just hoped for the best, but feared for the worst after a while. I’m so sorry to find out the worst had happened after all.”
Ayrie started. “If we had known?—”
“I know.” I reached over and squeezed Ayrie’s hand. “It’s been almost two decades, but it feels like yesterday. I wish I could change how things happened and went down.”
“Well, you arehomenow,” Auntie Titi pointed out. “That’s all that matters!”
Tears welled up in my eyes.Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.It was everything I’d been feeling, everything I hadn’t been ableto say out loud. I blinked hard, nodded, and pressed my lips together to stop them from trembling. Words couldn’t describe how appreciative I was.
Then, Bryson stirred in Quinn’s arms, his little head rising with a soft groan. Quinn smiled down at him. His eyes fluttered open and immediately focused on the kitchen doorway.
“Snack,” he demanded sleepily, then repeated, stronger and more awake this time, “Snack!”
Ayrie chuckled as she stood. “Alright, little man. Come on, we’ll get you something. Byrdie, you want to help me grab some snacks for everyone?”
I nodded, and I followed her into the kitchen, passing under the archway into a space with custom teal shaker cabinets, a massive farmhouse sink, designer tile backsplash, and sunlight slanting through lace-trimmed curtains. The smell of the holidays continued in the gourmet kitchen. The quartz countertop on the oversized island had the soft clutter of a lived-in home: mail, knick-knacks, and other loose things.
As Ayrie pulled open the fridge and started gathering ingredients for a charcuterie board, she glanced over her shoulder. “So, how are youreally? I mean, with everything, Quinn, her family. That’s all pretty heavy, Byrdie.”
I leaned on the island counter, the cool quartz grounding me in more ways than just my powers. Scooting the ceramic cookie jar shaped like a snowman over, I was reminded of our childhood and the countless hours we spent climbing the trees in the backyard while gossiping and chatting like we were doing now. I always knew I could tell her everything, and it was easy to just pick up where we had left off, even after all these years. “I love her. I love her so much. She’s my mate. I know she would never hurt me.”
Ayrie raised a brow as she started cutting various meat, cheese, bread, fruit, and other accompaniments for the largeboard she was preparing. “It has been a while, but I’m sensing a ‘but.’”
“I don’t want to say it’s a ‘but,’ exactly. That makes it feel like doubt. It’s just…” I sighed, twisting my mom’s obsidian pendant around in my hands. “What does it say that every time I look up, Quinn’s family is the one that hurts me the most, and in the worst ways anyone can?”
“Other than the fact that it’sherfamily and notherexactly?” Ayrie laid out crackers and tiny slices of baguettes in a neat circle on a serving board.
