Don't Go Baking My Heart

“Oh, that makes sense.”

“Does it? Because I’m happy to stay home and sleep, but she’s insisting. So the church wig and dress came out. And all these people we’ll see at the church are coming back to the house for post-christening breakfast. Why am I even telling you any of this?” she muttered. “You’re at my house for no reason that I can think of.”

He couldn’t stop staring at the wig. “It’s not you,” he said. “I mean, it’s a nice wig, but…”

“Why are you here?” she cut him off.

Right, he needed to stay on track. “I brought your phone and bag, but I need to talk to you first. Before I hand them over.”

“Wow, blackmail this early? How rude. I really am a bad influence on you, aren’t I? I’m sure that’s another point you can add on that analysis of yours.”

Well, that confirmed she had heard that part of the conversation. “May I come in?”

“No.”

“No? I suppose that’s fine, but can we talk before you leave?”

“Is that your karaoke friend?” a voice called out behind Reba. A head popped up over her shoulder. “Hi there, friend. Sorry for my rude daughter. Reba, why you have the man standing out here? Come in, come in. You didn’t tell me your friend was visiting today? You ate yet? Tall man like you could probably eat some more even if you did, eh?”

“No, he’s not staying. We have to get to church.”

“Well, you have a guest, so you can stay.” She looked back at Devon. “It must be important for him to be here so early. So please, do come in.”

Devon looked from Reba’s unamused face to her mother’s cheerful one. The decision was easy, regardless of the consequences. “I’d love to come in. Thank you.”

Reba’s mother tugged her away from the door. “Don’t mind her. She’s had too much to drink at some party.”

“My party, actually. I brought her stuff for her. And to take her to get her car.”

“All of a sudden, it’s your party?” Reba huffed.

“Oh, aren’t you a gentleman? They don’t make them like this anymore, you know. Especially not them lil’ boys she like to talk to up the road. I’m Yvonne, by the way.”

“Devon.” He bit the inside of his cheek to stop the smile that wanted to form at Reba’s rolled eyes.

Yvonne ushered him into the living room, where an older man was busy tucking his shirt into his pants. A younger woman stood next to him. Reba’s father and sister, he assumed.

“Everyone, this is Reba’s friend, Devon,” Yvonne announced. “He’s taking her to get her car at his house. I’ll let Rhonda know something came up. Reba can give you something to eat. We have plenty, so don’t worry about taking something. Better to do so before the hungry masses get here after the mass.”

“I’m good, really.” He needed Reba to be amenable. Asking her to dish out food for him wasn’t going to do that.

“Damn right he’s good. Plus, if he’s hungry, he got two good working hands.” She pointed down a hallway. “I’m going to change real quick. We can just go get my car one time.” She held out her hand.

Her family didn’t look like they would leave until she came out; they were making no movement towards the door, so he handed her the phone and bag. He didn’t think she would lock herself in her room and leave him out here with an audience, but he really couldn’t be sure of what she would do, could he?

“Don’t mind her,” Yvonne said, leading him over to the table where the food was set up buffet-style. “She’s been like that since I woke her up. So, what do you do, Devon? If you don’t mind me asking.”

He looked at the spread. He had already eaten a quick, simple breakfast before heading out—wholegrain toast with peanut butter and banana slices—but his eyes landed on the tomato choka in a clear dish with some sada roti on a plate beside it. There were several other sides to go with the sada, plus puffs and pastries, both savoury and sweet. Everything had neat labels, so there would be no guessing what each item was. Devon appreciated the organisation of the table. He hated having to figure out what something was at a buffet, which opened up the eater to potential food allergies and just plain eating something they didn’t like.

“I’m a Senior Project Manager at an architectural firm. Dax Designs.”

“Oh, that sounds important. I bet you play a major role.” She picked up a disposable plate from the stack on the table. “Tell me what you prefer. I’ll fix you up, don’t worry. You good with a little of everything?”

“That’s not necessary, I can dish it out myself.”

She didn’t hand him the plate. “It’s fine. You’re a guest. No trouble at all,” Yvonne assured him. “Reba rarely brings her friends over, so this is my pleasure, truly. You’d think she was ashamed of us or something.”

“Just let her do it.”