He popped into the doorway quickly.
"Need some help here, child."
He rushed to his grandmother's side to help her and Star bring out the dinner.
Everything was as delicious as the aroma had promised. I couldn't believe how tasty the chicken was. When I was offered more, I was unable to resist. I looked at Star who knew I was thinking about Jade and her plans to have us all eat healthy.
"Don't worry about it," she muttered.
"So, how's your momma these days?" Granny Anthony asked. "Has the commotion settled down some?"
"Yes," I said, hoping my voice didn't shake.
"You girls all have had it hard from what Star tells me, but she says it's all going to be okay. When you're young, you can hold a lot on your shoulders if you have a mind to. Just remember, child, at the end of every storm, there's a bright sky and sometimes, a beautiful rainbow. Keep your eyes fixed ahead and nothing will seem too hard."
"Where's your rainbow, Granny?" Star asked sharply.
Granny Anthony patted her hand.
"It's coming, child. It's coming."
"So's Christmas."
"Now don't you go and mumble
discouragement, Star. Half the time we make our own dark clouds and wonder why there's so much rain falling on our heads. Does your mother work, Cathy?"
"No, ma'am."
"But you all are taken care of?"
"Yes, ma'am," I said. "For now."
"That's half the battle, half the battle. Rodney, you're not wiping your hands on your pants, are you?"
"No, Granny," he said, his eyes wide. "Or my fancy tablecloth?"
He shook his head.
"Well, you're wiping on something, and your napkin's still folded."
"I'm not wiping on anything, Granny," he protested. "He's been licking his fingers dry," Star said, coming to his rescue. "Thanks to your good cooking."
"Oh, this is just an ordinary meal," she said. She sat back. "When I was a lot younger, I made some real fancy dinners. My husband was alive then and we had people in and out of our house day and night. Banquets is what we had, real banquets."
"This is a banquet as far as I'm concerned," I said, and she smiled. Then she turned serious.
"Is your mother a good cook?" she asked.
"She never cooked anything fancy," I replied, still skating around the truth.
"Even when your daddy was there?" she followed. "Cathy doesn't like talking about those days, Granny," Star interceded.
"Oh. Sure. I understand. It's a shame though. All you children not having a real home life. It's a shame."
"We'll survive," Star muttered.
"Sure you will. Why shouldn't you? More mashed potatoes, honey?" she asked me.