Page 99 of Stay Dangerous

When I met Pilar’s gaze, her big false gray irises were shining in the firelight. Embarrassment threatened to take me under, until she placed a hand on my knee.

“He sounds like a stand up guy.”

“Yeah, well,” I sighed. “That was before he showed me another side of him. But I won’t talk bad about him to you.”

“Boys suck,” she snickered, patting my thigh before standing. “The more you let them in, the more inevitable the heartbreak will be. Don’t let it change you, though, no more than it already has. You’re a sweet girl, Wynter Snow.”

She helped me up, and then grabbed the handle of the wagon. There were already gifts under the tree situated in the corner of the room, wrapped and ready that morning when I woke up. Pooh and Pilar would be with the honeybees downstairs tomorrow, while I decided on a movie marathon.

But my mind changed as Pilar grinned and winked at me as she left to put the presents downstairs.

I wasn’t missing anything back at home. The last few Christmases had been spent next door, in a crowded house, me and my sister surrounded by people that weren’t related to us. Rico and I exchanged gifts last Christmas, the day after. There were no traditions for the Shaws.

No holiday cheer.

I walked into the kitchen and took stock of everything in the cabinets, fridge, and freezer. Surprisingly, I had everything I needed. I took it as a sign, and went to sleep with a smile on my face.

The next morning, I woke up to an empty apartment and got to work.

A good roux took hours. Hours I had. Putting on the holiday marathon I was going to watch anyway, I set about making a huge pot of gumbo.

My thank you for them letting me stay here, I guess.

I rarely saw Pooh, but I knew everything happened on his say so. And at the end of the day, he could have washed his hands of me a week ago, but he didn’t. Even let Pilar spend all day, every day with me.

“Damn. It smell too good in here.”

I squealed, slamming the spoon on the counter and turning around.

Pooh kept walking until he was leaning over the pot. He maneuvered the spoon from under my hand and rinsed it in the sink before taking some out of the pot to taste.

“Mmm! And tastes good, too. My son knows you throw down like this?”

My eyes stretched to their capacity as I slid over even more. “Umm–”

“I was coming to see if you wanted to eat downstairs, but me and Pilar coming up here instead. I’on want no ham, I want this. The rice done?”

My voice completely gone, I just nodded.

Pooh didn’t notice. He was too busy taking another spoonful. “I’ma assume the silence is no. We’ll be up in thirty minutes. Damn. I ain’t had gumbo like this in… damn, a long time.”

He set the spoon down and left as quietly as he came.

Only when the door closed did my voice come back. I always thought Dad’s gumbo was the best gumbo, but maybe I wasn’t as subjective as I thought, the way Pooh was acting.

An hour later, he and Pilar were on their third bowl in the dining room. I sat opposite Pilar, enjoying my second bowl.

“Christmas gumbo. We have to make this a tradition, baby,” Pilar said, spooning more crabmeat.

“Definitely. This some good shit, Wynter,” he chuckled. Pilar’s phone began to buzz, and she excused herself, leaving me alone with Pooh in the dining room.

I cleared my throat, trying to muster as much courage as I could. Pilar was nice and all, but I was sure my parents put out a missing person’s report days ago.

“When can I go home?” I pushed out, just as Pooh put down his empty bowl.

God, he and his sons were so alike. He peered at me, face blank like he wasn’t trying to decide how much information he could trust me with.

And I saw the moment he decided to lie.