Low was in his element. Standing over the six-range Viking, he tested his famous gravy. “Mhm. Can’t get no better than that.” Some spent money on cars, jewels, and watches. Nah, he loved plants and kitchen appliances. Subzero, Vikin,g, and Mielie. They were Boujee and pricey, but when you were a homebody, you needed reliable shit. And in this age of obsolescence, expensive goods tended to last longer… as planned.
On the menu for tonight was slow-cooked garlic pork roast, fried cabbage, truffle mashed potatoes, and homemade French bread. Not his loaf, but Max’s. The female baked her ass off but could not cook rice. Washing hands, he nodded at the boys who were in the living room, lounging like they had not a care in the world.
Low turned the warmer and timer off. “Ashton, can you set the table?” He heard a whistle and shuffling. “Teddie, kill the game boy. It’s time to eat.”
“Yup, I’m super hungry.”
“I know the feeling, bruh.”
Mitts on, he retrieved a loaded pan filled with sizzling meat from the oven and marched to the table. “Ohhhhhh, Low, that looks amazing.”
“It’s finna taste better too.”
“I believe it. I told Ron you make the best shrimp and grits in Florida. He said, ‘hell nah, my mama does.’ So, I said ‘bet’. You have to make some shrimp and grits now.”
The boy talked a mile a minute and took no breaks unless he had to breathe. “How you volunteer me like that?”
“Simple. I know yours is better.”
Ashton rushed around carrying utensils, cups, and condiments. He loved setting the table, but Low knew it was more so outta habit. Pops made damn certain his sons set the table for their entire lives. Low had done it ‘til moving out at a hunnit and twenty years old.
Sides joined the main dish, and seconds later, they were seated. Low ate breakfast or lunch with them, depending on how he felt. But supper was to be eaten at the table. No matter what, at some point during the day, he enjoyed a meal with his siblings.
“Hands.” Palms up and outstretched, he gripped the smaller ones. Bowing their heads, Low waited for Teddie. It was his turn.
“Lord, we thank you for the food you allowed us to have. And thank you for giving my brother the know-how to cook it, and in Jesus’ name, bless those who are without bread. In Jesus name we pray, Amen.”
“Amen.” Low paused talking to stack protein on his plate. “How’s gymnastics going, Teddie?”
His brother smiled and passed around the mashed potatoes. “I’m second in ranks.”
“That’s what’s up. You been going at it all month. See? Practice makes what?”
“Perfect,” Teddie sang.
Theodor was a happy teenager on the cusp of manhood. Sixteen, innocent, and never been in the streets or seen a gun. Their parents did well until the moment they left.
“I have a shot at the championship this year.”
After loading his plate, Low clapped palms with Teddie. “I know you gon’ make it. And if you keep going. You’ll get that scholarship, too.”
Teddie beamed, his brown eyes shining with pride. “I know I will. It’s about manifestation. Max told me—”
“Here we go.”
“What?” Teddie frowned with a mouth full. “She’s right. A positive mindset works. You stick with it and make things happen. When you realize how powerful your own thoughts are, the faster you can wipe out negative energy.”
Low laughed and shook his head while chomping on potatoes. Looking at Ashton, he ran a hand over his short, pre-dreads.
“And what about you, boy? How are you doing in the band?”
Ashton nodded, dropped his fork, and signed.
It’s going good, though, I’m still kinda bad. I think the violin is my instrument. I really mean it this time.
“Are you sure?” Low asked with a smirk. “You ain’t tried drums yet.”
Ashton shook his head and signed.
Nah, too noisy. You know I love classical strings. I just had to decide. Cello, violin, flute, clarinet, trumpet. I got the piano down, thanks to Max. But I’m sure it’s the violin for me. I like how it feels in my hands. It speaks to me.
This little boy was fourteen and growing too damn fast. Ashton was seven years old when they were abandoned. Now, he wore braces, stood five-foot-seven, and talked about girls. Pretty soon, he and Theodore would be grown men.
Time ain’t stop for no damn body.
Low smiled, flashing fangs. “Whatever you do, it’s gonna be great, Ash. Once you learn a skill, you excel. I’m proud of you.” Glancing at Teddie, he said. “Both of ya’ll. I just wish I could be there for competitions and recitals. I’m sorry about that.”
The middle brother shrugged. “You always say sorry for things you can’t control, Low. You didn’t ask to be a vampire who has a sun allergy. It’s the weirdest thing. Don’t you think, Ash?”
He nodded and signed. It makes no sense. And then, one day, I’ll be allergic too. But I’m more of a night person, anyway.
“Yeah, but you remember,” Teddie shoveled cabbage and snorted. “You remember when I put garlic in your room?”
“I do.” Low sipped his cold, sweet blood happily and smiled. “That was when I first told you, right? Yeah, yeah. Y’all wanted proof so bad. You put garlic under my pillow and about burned me to death.”
He side-eyed Ashton, ‘cause that sneaky boy got him fresh out the shower. Low walked into his room, and Ash ripped the curtains aside.
Ashton rolled his eyes and signed. I believed you afterwards.
“Yeah, I would hope—”
The doorbell interrupted their chatter. Standing, Low checked the time. 9:30 and barely vampire hours, but he had called for Mrs. Piper to watch the boys, since they ain’t know how to act. Hitting a u-turn, he jogged out of the kitchen and hustled for the door. “Max?”
She waved from beyond the glass.
“Hay, baby. I was just about to text you, too. I was finna hea—what’s wrong?”
Her feet dragged along with her face. Maxi was a positive ball of happy-go-luckiness. Sometimes, her never-ending jubilation got on his last damn nerves. But when Low closed the door, sadness clogged a dark silence as her forehead met his chest.
“What’s the matter, Max? Talk to me,” Low said, his demand terse. Linking arms around him, she mumbled. “What is it?”
He stepped into the bar area, entrance adjacent, and sat on a stool, pulling Max onto his lap. “Woman, you gotta speak up.”
Low hated it when she was sad and blue. It didn’t feel good on the inside. Cupping her cheek, he yanked off the frames and tossed them on the bar-top.
“I’m getting married,” she muttered, about ready to cry. Low heard those words, but the loud racket behind his ribs made it tough to make out.
“You what?”
“I’m getting marrieeeed.”
Hands dropped away as he recoiled. Who would have thought he’d care this much? Low remained willfully ignorant for years. He refused to scrutinize what had blossomed between them for his sanity, her mental health, and the job. They had an agreement, an arrangement that worked great, but…
“When did you meet somebody?” he asked, unable to look at her. Staring at rows of top-shelf liquor and hanging martini glasses was a better game plan. The sudden feeling of betrayal had him fucked up. It was unwanted and ridiculous. They were grown adults who set boundaries from the first time they…
“Low?”
“You said we would tell each—”
“Oh, my god. No, I didn’t meet anyone.”
He cut back to Max with questions. “I don’t understand.”
“My dad did this.”
He jacked to his feet and paced. “What the fu—what the fuck?!” Linking fingers atop his head, Low halted and gawked. “Are you playing with me right now?! Max, don’t play. Please don’t.”
“I’m not. This guy named Matthias came over, and basically, I have to…”
Some shit hurt Low’s feelings, other things turned his pillows red. Then some issues and dilemmas made a man wanna rip his own heart out. And to be trill, this was the second time Low felt the latter. As Max explained the whole ordeal, he wanted to vomit. What was finna happen? Was Raymond Lawry going to take her away? Would they move out of state? The bleak thought threatened every bite he swallowed.
“Is everything okay?” Teddie asked. His concern called Low’s muddled mind into the present.
“Uh, yeah.” He nodded. “It’s fine. Max, baby, you hungry?”
Shaking her head, she smiled. “Hay Teddie.”
“We have mashed potatoes.” He knew how much she loved the spud.
Ashton ran in next, slipping on socked feet, and slammed into her.
“Hi, kid,” she chimed as the boy pulled her into the kitchen. “Guess I’ll have a bite.”
Both of his brothers were taller than she, but it never stopped the woman from babying them.
Low was about to flip. Like, he needed to smoke, or he’d kill one of his children. Not the boys, but a plant. They were his kids. Well, not all. Some were closer to him than that.
“See.” Teddie showcased a tub crammed with slices of bread. “He even let us have some. Cause you know he’s stingy with it.”
“It’s mine, the eff you mean.” Low barked. Max gave him the nastiest scowl in return.
“No.” She snarled and said, “I will tear you up. Y’all can have as much as you want, and if you like, I can make another batch tonight.”
When they sat, Low cleared his throat. “Mhm, nah, I’m heading out. Which means you are too.”
“I don’t wanna.”
“You do.” He smirked.
“Where are we going?” Max asked, handling baked goods. She smeared butter on its fluffy white top.
He shrugged. “Don’t know. I ain’t the one driving.”

Good evening, y’all. I know it’s late, but it’s still Friday! This is a win! Also, I am writing this half asleep, but I did it. I really hope you have a terrific weekend, and per the norm, I want to thank you. If not for y’all, I wouldn’t keep doing this. Your time and interest mean everything. Have a wonderful Memorial weekend, loves! Byyyyeee.