June hosted a summer cookout and did not set a empty chair as a joke. Jokes of that kind were retired. Derrick manned the grill. Patrice brought the pie already sliced. Sliced was policy. Vanessa arrived and sat. A nephew asked why Auntie Vanessa used to stand. Vanessa said my feet hurt. The nephew accepted feet. Children accept geography. Patrice was grateful. Grateful was less crowded. The grill smoked. The smoke was ordinary. Ordinary was the win. She ate a burnt edge on purpose. Burnt was information. She liked information that was not a daughter.
The around-the-corner graduation lived in Patrice’s body for a year and then thinned. She told Derrick it thinned. He said I don’t get to rush the thin. She said correct. Correct was their word. Imani, told by no one, did not know the car. Lorraine knew and did not put it on the girl. Some facts were adult. Adult was the cafeteria and the fee. The car could stay a scar between the married. Patrice let it scar. Scars are not chairs. June had said so. June was right.
Three years after the uncut pie, Imani came for a weekend Lorraine approved, slept at June’s, and ate one dinner at Patrice’s with the chair in the basement. She sat in a ordinary seat. Derrick passed the rice. Patrice passed the greens. Vanessa did not stand. Imani said the greens were salty. Vanessa said then eat them. Imani ate them. Eating was the truce inherited. They did not pray over a reveal. They prayed short, or not at all. Patrice could not remember after. Remembering was not the point. The point was a full table that was not a lie. The pie was cut. Somebody cheered a game in the other room. The cheer was only a game. She let it be.
Lorraine’s hospital added a shift and she took it. The money from Derrick was no longer the margin. It was a habit with a purpose, school, a tire, a phone. She told him the margin had moved. He said he would still send the school part. She said all right. All right was thin and useful. Imani knew the send was not a secret anymore. Knowing made it less like weather. Weather had been the old way. A calendar was the new way. She preferred the calendar. Calendars could be hated honestly.