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Everybody is keeping to their own side. Black faces and white faces are not mingling in perfect harmony. It seems like it’s easier to stick with the familiar than get to know anybody outside their family.
The exception, as it always is, is the kids. There are six kids causing a ruckus in here. Their excited voices and giggles fill the air. They run through the living room and out the back patio, heedless of the tension swirling around the adults.
Aunt Glory is the first to spot me. "Pearl!" She rushes over with a small smile on her face. "We were all placing bets on whether or not you'd gotten cold feet."
River slips his arm around my waist and gives Glory his most disarming smile. "Nope. Just running late."
My aunt jerks her thumb at me. "This one will be late to her own funeral. Drives me crazy."
I feel my face grow hot. "Auntie! I’m hardly ever late."
Glory squeezes my arm affectionately. "You know I love you."
Malik swoops into the conversation before Glory can start listing all my faults. He hustles into our little group and gives me a side hug. "Hey, sis."
"You made it!" I say. “I’m glad you’re here.”
"Where's Mom?" I ask Malik.
He slides Aunt Glory a look. "She's in the kitchen. Apparently, she brought food."
I scrunch my face up. "Was she supposed to bring food?" I look at River, who shakes his head.
"I don’t think so. My folks have a five-course meal and a whole staff for days like today,” he says.
"I told your mother that the food was taken care of," Glory says. "But she wouldn't hear it."
"Good lord," I sigh. "I should go check on her. See if there's any way to derail the crazy train."
"I'll show you the way," River is quick to add.
As we pass through the living room, we're stopped by my aunts, uncles and cousins, all wishing us a happy engagement. Most of them also make thinly veiled comments about how they've never been invited to an engagement party before. The subtext being, I guess, that this sort of event is not done in our family.
It makes the fact that there are several differences in class and race between the two families glaringly obvious.
River's brothers and sisters stop him, probably having the same semi-polite chit chat. I spot Sav and Lucy outside with the kids, but they don't see me.
It's too bad, because I could use some friendly faces right about now.
Eventually, River puts his arm around my shoulders and hurries me through to the kitchen. When he pushes the door open, steamy, spicy air hits me.
I immediately sneeze.
My mom and Aunt Delta both stand over the stove, stirring pots. River's mom, Sarah, stands a few feet behind them, her knuckles pressed to her lips. She’s watching them with a guarded expression. A dozen white-uniformed chefs and caterers rush around, pulling loaves of bread from the double oven and plating huge platters of fried chicken.
My mom turns to one of the chefs. "This red rice is ready to be served. Delta's shrimp stew just needs a few more minutes."
"What kind of dish should I serve your food in?" the chef asks. He's polite, but looks strained.
Delta looks imperious. "This food had best be served in this pot, baby."
My mom turns to the chef and starts instructing him about moving the huge pot of spicy okra and shrimp stew to the table.
Sarah walks over to us, her hands clutched in front of her body. She's wearing a khaki-colored sheath dress and she has a nervous look on her face. "Hi, Pearl." She hugs me and then turns to River. "Pearl's family brought enough food to feed a hundred people."
I look at my mom with a skeptical gaze. "Let me guess. They just showed up with food."
Sarah looks embarrassed to say yes, so she doesn't answer my question directly.
