PROLOGUE
J A N E L L A
‘The man who counts the bits of food he swallows is never satisfied.’ Those were the words my parents’ had served me everyday for breakfast, lunch and dinner to mould me into the person I was today.
GRATEFUL
I was grown to be grateful for every step, every breath, and every meal I ate because there was no way of telling if it’d be my last. I was grown to appreciate everyone who had proven themselves accable to receiving such an act of kindness, and I was grown to be appreciated by anyone I let into my circle because as much as I was taught to be grateful I was also taught not to let me be taken for granted.
I was grown to want, but be grateful for what I had.
I was grateful for peace…
I was grateful for moments like these, where the smell of the meal I had been cooking made its way into my nose as it bounced off my kitchen walls. It was a smell that had me craving a taste but I knew I was in a long wait behind many more spices that were needed to make the taste reflect the smell…the smell that reminded me of my childhood and all the good memories it came with—memories I was happy to have.
I remember entering the kitchen when I was little and seeing my father standing in front of the stove, cooking dinner for everyone with my mother releasing jokes in his ear to make him laugh while he carried out the task, which many titled strenuous because they lacked the passion he had for the skill…that we did.
Cooking was a part of me, it was something I was convinced had been engraved in my DNA because like my father, his father loved to cook to the point where he opened his own restaurant to share his talents with his community, so when he died it was not a surprise when my father took over the business to continue the legacy grandpa left, a legacy my brother and I were going to receive whenever dad was ready to hand it down, a legacy that would ensure generation wealth, our legacy.
I hastily but carefully placed the remaining seasonings into the pot my eyes were trained on before covering it and making my way into the living room that was patiently waiting to be used, since I had not too long ago turned on the television with the intention of putting on the movie I was currently trying to rewatch, ‘Love Jones’, but the moment I took a seat I was met by a wave of heat that brought the reality of me sweating to my mind which prompted my hand to reach for and turn on the fan that was a small distance in front of me.
Cool.
That’s how I felt the minute the air from the windy appliance greeted my skin, however, I wasn’t offered the opportunity to bask in its cool hands because the sound of my doorbell ringing pulled my attention off of the object to stand, and approach the wooden door that granted access into my home.
After stopping at the door and looking through its peephole, I used my unoccupied hand to pull it open, granting my friends permission to enter and take off their shoes.
“Took yo ass long enough.” Sasha proclaimed, and I had to roll my eyes in response to this comment because she was moving like she hadn’t just rang the doorbell.
“Now why is you acting like y’all been at that door all damn day?” I questioned her, voicing my thoughts as she removed her shoes and I closed my door.
“With this heat it sure felt like it.” She expressed, resting her footwear in an appropriate place before wandering further into my house with a shake of her head. “Shit girl, you needa turn on yo damn AC.”
“And who’s gon pay them bills? The fan is on in the living room.” I notified her, and this had her redirecting her steps towards said area, allowing me to rest my eyes upon Gabriella, who finally chose to speak.
“Hi, you good?” She inquired, offering me a hug that served as a physical declaration of her happiness when it came to seeing me.
Grateful for moments like these.
“Mhm, are the kids at school?”
“Yeah, but I’m gon pick them up in uh…” She trailed off while transferring her now squinted gaze to the watch that was wrapped around her melanated wrist, “An hour, but I just wanted to stop by and check on you.”
“Oh, well if you or Ariana ain’t cooking today, y’all can get a plate of my food.”
My announcement brought a world of relief on her face as we began a trip into the living room where Sasha was, sitting right in front of the fan trying to remove the sweat that was running down her face.
“Thank you, you saving me a whole lotta trouble.”
“What’s going on?” Our friend asked, clearly wanting to be a part of the conversation.
“Ion have to cook later.” Gabriella disclosed, causing Sasha’s brows to cling to each other in confusion.
“Then what am I gon eat?”
I almost laughed at her question while taking a seat beside her on the couch because her query provided me with the constant reality of Sasha always leaving or eating at Gabriella’s house whenever I called her which made me convinced this woman lived with her.
“You can have some of the food I’m cooking too, don’t worry.”
“I love you.” She expressed, earning a lighter expression on my lips that I moved to use to reply.
“I—” I started, but the sound of my doorbell ringing cut into my sentence, drawing a sigh from me as I rose to my feet to head towards the door. “Why is my house so popular today?”
“Errbody must know you cooking.” Gabriella declared, mostly likely speaking from experience.
Choosing not to respond, I mustered up all the strength I had to stand and head to the door, knowing I couldn’t stay seated too long since I’d have to check on the pots I had on the stove soon. When my vessel was placed in front of the wooden contraption, I looked through the peephole to see who was standing on the other side, and taking in the image of two familiar vessels had me pulling the object open with a smile.
“Hey mama, hi dad.” I greeted them, allowing them to step inside the house, “What are y’all doing here?”
“Whatchu mean? Didn’t your mother text you?” Dad inquired, but I shook my head now with a look of puzzlement overpowering the joy on my face.
“You ain’t get my text?”
I didn’t answer my mother’s question immediately since I was busy reaching into my pocket to remove my phone and search for the message she claimed to send.
“..No, I ain’t seeing nothing here.”
“You forgot to hit send didn’t you.” Dad stated in a knowing manner that had her shaking her head as she quickly brought her phone to check.
“No, I did se—” She voiced, but cut into her own words when her eyes captured something that pulled a sheepish expression onto her lips, “I forgot.”
Grateful for moments like these.
Snickers escaped my father and I as we proceeded into the house where the smell of food was more prevalent which yanked a question past my father’s lips.
“You cooking?”
“Mhm, imma check on the pots. Sasha and Gabriella are inside the living room.” I briefed them, and mama didn’t waste time to walk in the direction opposite of where I was going while dad trailed behind me, causing me to halt my steps and turn to him with a disapproving look, “No, go to the living room ion need you shadowing me.”
Showcasing a look of playful defeat on his face, he offered me a toothy grin before doing as told, leaving me to complete my task that didn’t take much time since I was now joining everyone inside the living room.
“What are we watching?” Sasha asked, offering me the remote when I found my place beside her.
“Love Jones.” I announced, making her and Gabriella roll their eyes in annoyance, but before any of them could release a word, I spoke, “We not doing this again.”
“Gurl you have a problem and we is tryna help you.”
“You watch that movie way too much.”
“Mama.” I complained, earning a chuckle from my father.
“Y’all better leave ha alone.” She defended, pulling a smile from me as I placed my focus on the tv in order to begin the search for ‘Love Jones’.
“All I’m saying is the amount time this girl has watched that movie is unhealthy.”
“She knows everything word for word, and I ain’t even cappin’, I’ve literally sat beside her and watched her mouth everything the actors be sayin’.”
I didn’t try to defend myself because they weren’t lying, I did watch this movie basically every single day and I did know it like the back of my hand, but I couldn’t help it because it provided me with a fantasy—a reality I craved, to be loved by someone that wasn’t family.
I craved to receive a love that reflected the one I saw in the movie, the one I saw whenever my parents were present, and the one I saw with Gabriella and her wife.
I craved a love that didn’t need reassurance, a love that provided me with safety, a love that didn’t make me second guess me, a love that was wordless yet loud.
I craved a love, but I was grateful for the love I had whenever I was with my family, my friends because I knew that love would be endless.
Grateful for moments like these.
“They just don’t make black movies like this no more, so I gotta appreciate it.” I expressed, clicking on the movie and gained no opposition this time around because my sentiment was one I knew we all shared.
“Okay fine, I can agree with that.” Sasha professed before asking, “How long till the food is finished?”
“Thirty minutes or more.” I disclosed, watching as she glanced at her phone which prompted me to ask, “You got somewhere to be?”
“Uh, I have an extra class in the next two hours so I was hoping I could just make one trip by taking the food and going to the class then eat it at ho—in my apartment because ion wanna be wasting gas and shit.”
“Language.”
“Sorry.” She apologised in response to my mother’s words.
“Like you don’t be cussing.” Dad mumbled, pulling chuckles from the group.
“Don’t start with me Devonte.”
Hearing this had him smiling before he pressed a kiss against her hand I hadn’t realised he was holding.
“I love you.”
“I know.” She replied, causing his smile to get brighter and the look of admiration in his eyes to grow.
I craved a love like this, and I would be grateful if I ever received it.
