Page 22 of The Wrong Reciprocation

"Since when? Ya mama say you sweet on somebody with an accent. What happened to him?"

Twyla rolled her lips into her mouth to keep from sucking her teeth.

"Family emergency."

The door slides open and Arturo steps inside.

Twyla straightens. Stares longingly. She can't even help it.

He stares right back.

She's in her head, thinking about what they could've been doing if things were different.

Aunt Mable. "How ya mama nem, Griff?"

"My mama is doing well. She sends her love."

Mable laughs. "Boy a lie don't care who tell it."

Arturo grins, abashed. "How are you, Mable?"

"Old. Tired." She raises her glass. "Drunk."

Nelson scoffs. "Woman, I put less than an ounce of whiskey in that glass."

"I know but I had about two glasses of that punch with my breakfast."

Eyes widening, Twyla jerked her head back. "Uncle Marshall's rum punch?" Twyla had taken one sip of the concoction and seven strands of coily taco meat had immediately sprouted on her chest. How the hell her septugenarian aunt had sucked down two glasses worth and was still standing was an unsolved mystery.

Mable smacked her lips as if she could still taste the coral-colored beverage. "Mmhm. Sho' was good too."

Nelson laugh. "Just a lush."

"Shut yo mouf, Nelson Jefferson." Once again, the older woman raised her glass. "And pour me another drink."

He shot Twyla and Arturo a look but proceeded to do as he was told.

Twyla is confused. Thinks about what she heard. "Aunt Mable. Why'd you call Arturo Griff?"

"He named afta Daddy. You ain't know that?"

"No, I—I just found out about him a couple weeks ago so," she met his eyes briefly before looking back at her aunt, "I don't know much of anything about him being family."

"And that's a damn shame. Linda of all people shoulda told you—I been tellin' that heifer for years—"

Nelson pulled the bottle of whiskey back. "Mama, maybe you don't need another one."

Mable glared. "Hush up boy and pour the damn drink! I swear you hardheaded just like ya damn daddy!" Mable looked around the room. "Speakin' of ya daddy, where he at? I'm feelin' a lil loose in the caboose and need him to come tighten a few screws." She winked at Twyla. "If ya know what I mean."

Nelson gagged then pointed to the door. "Get outta here right now!"

She giggled. "You gon' hafta help me down the stairs."

He came from around the bar and held his arm out for her to grab it. "Let's go, woman."

They leave down the hallway. Twyla and Arturo are alone.

"Why didn't you tell me your name is Griffin? We might have figured things out sooner."