Page 1 of Her Sweetest Desires
“Billie Maxwell,are you listening to me?”
I wasn’t, because she wasn’t saying anything I wanted to hear.
My pressure was already sky high with the guest list, and now my mother wanted to talk about the menu. This was Thanksgiving for goodness’ sake. The menu would be the same as it was every year.
However, instead of having everyone bring a dish, I was making everything myself.
“Yes, Mommy. I hear you, I?—”
“I didn’t ask if you heard me, little girl. I asked if you were listening. Don’t make me come over there. You’re not too old for a spanking.” She huffed.
I smiled and licked the icing from my fingers.
“Mommy. In the thirty years I’ve been blessed to be on this earth, . . . when have I ever gotten a spanking?”
Margaret Robins was the definition of soft.
Out of my parents, she was the most unserious one of the two. Anytime she raised her voice, laughter wasn’t too far behind. Over the years, my older brothers and I learned quickly that what Margaret lacked in discipline, William Robins, Sr., made up for. I was a daddy’s girl, so I didn’t get in as much trouble as Junior and Carter, but I was also aware of how much I could get away with.
Daddy played about a lot but never his woman’s respect.
“Never and I think it’s high time I show yo’ ass a thing or two.”
Unable to hold my laughter back any longer, I hollered.
“Woman, please. You would probably fall apart after the first hit came my way. You were not built for that life, ma’am.”
I couldn’t see her, but I knew she waved me off.
“Whatever,” she said then grunted. “Back to what I was saying though. This is your first time hosting Thanksgiving, and we have to make sure the menu is good, Puddin’. We know you’re good on making the sweets, but the whole meal? Why don’t you let me and Constance help? Plus, you know how critical Agnes is, and I don’t want to be fighting in your house.”
I chuckled because although Margaret wouldn’t lay hands on her children, the same couldn’t be said for her sister.
My aunt Agnes was a bitter woman who hated anyone who even remotely looked like they were doing better than her. She didn’t have any children, didn’t work, and couldn’t keep a man. Agnes’s long funds came from my grandfather’s trust and her four divorces. Anytime Agnes and Margaret shared the same air, bickering was never too far away. I didn’t want her in my space,but, although annoying, I felt bad that if she didn’t come spend the holiday with us, she’d be alone.
Caring wasn’t my responsibility, but I did care, so my aunt got the same invite everyone else did.
“Mommy, you need to be like me. Don’t pay her any mind. The only reason she continues to get under your skin is because you keep giving her the energy. Love her from a distance until the holidays and then keep it moving.”
“I love my sister,” Mommy snapped, and I sighed.
“I didn’t say you didn’t love her, but it’s no secret you two don’t like each other, Mrs. Robins, and that’s okay. Besides, I love her, too, but I also make it a point not to let her get under my skin.”
She hummed, and I went back to putting the finishing touches to my sweet potato pound cake.
I purposely avoided my mom’s comment about her and my mother-in-law helping me cook. This was the first holiday without my maternal grandmother. I planned to use her recipes for every dish, and I felt like any outside help would ruin my vision. I didn’t know how to express that without becoming emotional, so I just told them I was good.
My heart would be missing from the dinner table, so it was important to me that pieces of her were still present.
“You know, I was thinking . . .” I grinned because this woman was so predictable. “Maybe me and Daddy should stay at the house too. That way if you need some help, I can be right there.”
“Mommy, please act like you know your husband. That man is not staying anywhere but his own bed. The only time Daddy will willingly sleep somewhere else is if we’re on vacation.”
She smacked her teeth. “You just watch. I have my ways to get what I want. I?—”
I frowned, and my head jerked back. “Nope.”
My hand sliced through the air as if to physically cut off her words.
