Four Blind Mice

squash casserole. I make creamed corn bread at home.
My
grandma from Sacramento’s recipe. You add creamed corn, which makes it extra moist. Sometimes I throw in pork rinds too.”
    “Hmm,” Nana said. “That sounds pretty good, girl. I’ll have to try it.”
    “If it ain’t broke,” Jannie decided to contribute.
    “Keep your small mind open,” said Nana, wagging a crooked pinkie finger at Jannie. “That’s if you ever want it to grow bigger and don’t want to remain a small person all your life.”
    “I was just defending your corn bread, Nana,” said Jannie.
    Nana winked. “I can take care of myself.”
    Dinner was served in the dining room, with Usher, Yolanda Adams, and Etta James on the CD player. So far, this was pretty good. Just what the doctor ordered.
    “We eat like this every night,” Damon said. “Sometimes we even have breakfast out here in the formal dining room,” he told Jamilla. I could tell that he already had a little crush on her. Hard not to, I suppose.
    “Of course you do, like when the president stops over for tea,” Jamilla said, and winked at Damon, then at Jannie.
    “He comes here often,” Damon said, nodding. “How did you know? My dad tell you?”
    “Think I saw it on CNN. We get that on the West Coast, you know. We all have TVs out by our hot tubs.”
    Dinner and the small talk were a success — at least I thought so. The laughter was constant, and mostly relaxed. Little Alex sat in his high chair grinning the whole time. At one point Jamilla pulled Damon out of his seat, and they danced a few steps to Aretha’s “Who’s Zoomin’ Who?” on the CD player.
    Nana finally rose from the table and proclaimed, “I absolutely forbid you to help with the dishes, Jamilla. Alex can pitch in. That’s his job.”
    “C’mon, then,” Jamilla said to Jannie and Damon. “Let’s go out front and trade gossip about your daddy. And your Nana too! You have questions — I have questions. Let’s dish. You too, little man,” she said to Alex Jr. “You’re excused from kitchen detail.”
    I followed Nana out to the kitchen with about half of the dirty dinnerware stacked in my hands and arms.
    “She’s pleasant,” Nana said before we got there. “She’s certainly full of life.” Then she started to cackle like one of those pesky crows in the old-time cartoons.
    “What’s so funny, old woman?” I asked. “You’re really getting a big kick out of yourself, aren’t you?”
    “I am. Why wouldn’t I? You’re just dying on the vine to know what I think. Well, surprise, surprise. She’s a real sweetheart. I’ll give you that, Alex — you pick nice girlfriends. She’s a good one.”
    “No pressure,” I warned her as I set dirty dishes in the sink and turned on the hot water.
    “Why would I do that? I’ve learned my lesson with you.” Then Nana started to laugh again. She seemed like her old self again. She’d gotten a clean bill of health from her doctor, or so she said.
    I went back to the dining room to clear away the rest of the dishes, but I couldn’t resist taking a quick peek out the front window to check on Jamilla and the kids.
    They were out in the street, tossing around Damon’s football. The three of them were laughing. I also noticed that Jamilla had a real good arm, threw a tight spiral. She was used to playing with the boys, wasn’t she?

Chapter 34
    JAMILLA WAS STAYING in the bedroom at the top of the stairs, the room we always kept for special guests — presidents, queens, prime ministers, and the like. The kids thought we were doing it for appearances, and we would have, but the unvarnished truth was, Jam and I had never been together that way, had never even
kissed
before the airport reunion. Jamilla was here to find out if things should go any further between the two of us.
    She came in through the back door of the kitchen while I was finishing up the dishes. The kids were still playing outside and Nana was straightening up God knows what upstairs.
    Probably the guest room, but maybe the hall bathroom. Or the linen closet?
    “I can’t stand it,” I finally said.
    “What?” she asked. “What’s wrong?”
    “You really want to know?”
    “Of course I do. We’re buddies, right?”
    I didn’t answer, but I grabbed hold of Jamilla’s shoulders and kissed her on the mouth. Then I kissed her again. I was keeping an eye peeled for the kids.
    And Nana, of course.
    And Rosie our cat, who is a big gossip too.
    Jamilla started to