"Michael is my son – the one who passed." Sheryl approaches from behind him with a rag in hand as she dries her fingers. "This is Stacey's husband, Robert. You met him last night and talked to him this morning."

"I think I would remember meeting him, and if you had a son that died, I would know it." Judith watches her mother's expression sink and her eyes lower.

"Ma Sheryl, I'll help you cook lunch," Robert says to cut the tension. He squeezes past her Uncle, who refuses to step aside, and the man casts a dark look at him.

"Boy, don't you know that it's a woman's place to be in the kitchen?" Judith's jaw drops as she waits for her mother to step in. He and Robert look at each other. "If you don't get outside, I'll have no choice but to figure you're a sissy."

"I'll take whatever insult you can come up with. I'm not leaving until she asks me to," he assertively tells him, then steps toward the sink.

Uncle Rembrandt watches him turn the knobs for warm water, then he shakes his head while his eyes dart onto Judith.

"Well, if it isn't my favorite niece named Judith." A smile casts onto his face, and the color in hers drains when he walks toward her.

Okay, brace yourself, Judy. He's gonna hug you.

He stands in front of her, and when he reaches his arms out, Judy swiftly extends her right hand with the hope that he'll accept it. "Hey, Uncle Rembrandt."

He merely glances at it, then at her with a humored look in his dark brown. He snickers and says, "You South Carolina kids are a different breed from when I was a youngin."

He smacks her hand away and yanks her closer. Her eyes widen as he wraps his arms around her in a bear hug. She leaves her arms dangling at her sides, and her heart begins to race. Judith glances at her sister out of her peripheral and notices her sipping her cup of coffee.

After what feels to her like hours, he pulls away and smiles at her, but she's unable to force one. His touch left her feeling unclean.

"Now, what in hell are you wearing," he asks before looking her up and down. "You look like one of them astronauts on the damn moon."

"It was raining, and mine got ruined," she says over his obnoxious laughter. "A friend gave me his."

"His," he repeats loudly, no longer smiling or laughing. Judith glances at Stacey, who's shaking her head. "A friend? Lord, I thank you for showing me what's been going wrong in this family. That damn husband of my niece let her kids run buck wild. One of 'em is pregnant out of wedlock, and the other is trying to join her."

"What? I'm married! You just met my husband for the third time, Uncle Rembrandt," Stacey yells, and Judith rolls her eyes onto the staircase. He darts his stern glare at her.

"Don't you go fussing at me now. You may be thirty and my niece's daughter, but I'll whoop your ass like you're my twelve-year-old son." Stacey furrows her brows and looks around for help, hoping someone hears him and corrects him, but only Judith hears.

"I'll be in my room," Judith mumbles and walks around him. Stacey pulls herself upright with her feet on the floor.

"Give me a minute, and I'll be there too," she says, sitting her cup on the stand next to the sofa. Rembrandt watches Judy make her way up the stairs, then turns so his eyes can follow Stacey into the kitchen.

"I'll be outside," he announces, then walks toward the front door. Stacey rests her hands on her lower back and trudges toward the kitchen.

Judith steps into her room and begins to hyperventilate. Her skin feels moist and stained with dirt and cigarette ash after he hugs her, leaving her feeling trapped in her body.

She tosses her bag on the floor and rushes to her bathroom while fighting her shirt off her torso. She reaches the sink and stands in front of the mirror. Once Jerome's shirt lifts over her head, her eyes land on her reflection.

Is this what I looked like all day?

She sets the shirt on the counter and stares at the dark circles under her eyes. Her hands fluff her dry sections protruding from her head cast.

***

Judith is standing at the foot of her bed with autumn orange Capri pants and mahogany clogs on. She lifts her white blouse off of her comforter. Just as she tugs it over her head, her Uncle thrusts the door open, and she darts her eyes onto him.

"I'm getting dressed," she yells, and his eyes briefly widen when he sees her bra. She tugs her shirt over her torso, and he slams the door shut.

"I was coming to tell you that lunch is ready," he says from the other side of the door. She doesn't respond. He departs down the hall, then the stairs, and she stands where she is, frozen in place with adrenaline coursing through her veins.

Judith takes a shaky breath, then makes her way downstairs as well. She walks through the kitchen and into the dining room, where everyone is seated. She notices her Uncle sitting in her father's chair, and she curls her hands into fists.

Stacey is sitting next to her, Robert to Judith's left, and their two twins, Cynthia and Charles, are sitting on his lap. Vera, Stevie, and Sheryl are in their usual seats.

Charles has a fade and waves. His eyes are the shape of almonds like Stacey's, but the light brown skin tone he gets from Robert. He's wearing a navy blue and black striped shirt and jeans.

Cynthia has Senegalese twists forming a half-up, half-down style with a white bow in the front. She's wearing a pastel pink dress that complements her light complexion.

"Where do I sit," she asks as she hesitantly steps to her mother's left. Sheryl glances at her daughter, then around the table that's neatly set and bearing bowls and plates of food.

"Um," she mumbles in thought, then pinches the inside of her left cheek between her teeth.

"You and the kids can sit in the living room," Rembrandt tells her, and Judith looks at Sheryl. "I need to talk to the adults here, and if I cuss, I don't wanna have to pop a child in the mouth for repeating me."

"I'm nineteen," she reminds him, ignoring his last statement. He snickers condescendingly and looks at Sheryl.

"Judy, take the kids into the living room," she orders her when all eyes fall on her. Judith glances at her older sister, then the four kids.

She looks at her Uncle again, and suddenly, her face feels hot. Stacey notices how quiet and upset her sister is, so she stands from her chair.

"Your cooking wore me out, Ma," she says, then sighs contently with a warm smile on her face. "How about I sit in the living room with the kids?"

"You don't have to do that," Sheryl tells her. Judith silently watches Stacey approach her.

"It's fine. I need to lay down anyway because it feels like the baby is on my spine." She chuckles dryly, then lifts her kids' plate. She shuffles through the kitchen. "Come on, y'all."

"Go eat with your momma," Roberts says to his son and daughter. Stevie and Vera rise from their seats with their plates and cups of southern sweet tea in hand. The four of them follow behind Stacey.

Judith sits next to her mother. If looks could kill, Rembrandt would've taken Judith's life five times over, but she doesn't dare look at him.

"So what was it that you wanted to tell me," Sheryl asks in a futile attempt to get his attention.

"You said you're nineteen?" Judy looks at him for a second, then nods and returns her gaze to Robert. "Do you work? Are you married?"

"No, sir, and no, sir," she says without looking at him, and he scoffs incredulously.

"So what makes you grown – your age?" She doesn't respond, and he shakes his head in disbelief. "I wasn't grown until I was thirty-two, and that was after I fought at Pearl Harbor and witnessed some shit that put hair on my chest."

"Language," Sheryl says, and he shoots her a dark look before returning his attention to Judith.

"That's what I mean. If you were mature, she wouldn't have to censor me." Judith and Sheryl open their mouths to speak, but he continues, "It don't make no never mind how much you drink, how much you smoke, or how much sex you have in a year. Your age damn sure don't make a difference, but if you're a grown woman, you'll either be married or have a job instead of depending on your parents to feed and clothe you."

"In fairness, we do live in a time where it's harder to start a life young," Robert chimes in, and Rembrandt narrows his eyes at him. Robbie chuckles dryly and says, "I didn't get started with my life until I was – maybe – twenty-five. That was after Stacey got pregnant."

"So you were married but not living together," he asks, and Robert furrows his brows. Judith shuts her eyes and waits for her brother-in-law to get lectured next. Sheryl sighs disappointedly.

"No, sir. We got married after I found out she was pregnant." Rembrandt looks at Sheryl. She looks at him with sadness in her irises. He shakes his head in disappointment, then stands from his chair.

"I done lost my damn appetite," he says, then walks around the long table to leave the room. Robert looks at the two of them confusedly.

"Judith, you and Stacey clean up. I'm gonna go lay down," she announces before excusing herself from the table.

***

Stacey is standing over the sink scrubbing plates with a rag, and Judith sits on a chair in front of the stove. They'd put the food away, and while the kids are in bed taking naps, Robert and Rembrandt are outside talking.

"Can you hurry up," Judy asks her, but it's more of a demand. Stacey glares at her.

"I can be done faster if, I don't know, you got off your ass and helped," she tells her passive-aggressively.

"I didn't eat, so why should I clean?" Stacey stops scrubbing and looks at her. "Besides, I'm sure this'll be a good lesson for you. If you're tired, then that means you shouldn't be getting knocked up like it's no biggie."

"I'm married, and I'm grown," she reminds her before dropping the dish and rag in the sink and turning to face her. She looks Judith up and down with hair strands from her low puff clinging to her damp forehead. "What's got you in kid mode, because I know this can't have anything to do with me."

"Oh, it's completely about you," Judith assures her. "You were given a chance to break out of Mom's leash, get married, start a family, and do your own thing. Why would you mess that up?"

"You don't even know what happened, yet you're judging me like you do," Stacey argues, and Judith rolls her eyes, then crosses her arms. "I heard about David, and what he did and how Mom is pressing for you to get married to him, and I get how you feel; It sucks, but what you need to do, is find something that you enjoy and turn that into a rope to pull you out, instead of trying to pull down the ones who've made it out."

Judith doesn't respond. Stacey watches her jaw shift as she grits her teeth, then she turns to the water in the sink and lets out a weary sigh.

"By the way, I didn't have to give you my seat at the dinner table, but I did," she reminds her, and Judy narrows her eyes and scrunches her face with disdain. "I've changed, and I see that you have too."

"First of all, you didn't give me your seat. When you left, three became available, and I took the one Stevie was sitting in," she tells her. Stacey resumes washing the dishes. "And as for me changing, when you're stuck in my situation, it's bound to happen. Maybe if you came over more often, I would have someone to talk to and actually relate to."

Judith stands to her feet and strolls toward the staircase when she's met with silence. Stacey watches her depart out of the corner of her eye, and when she reaches the first floor, Stacey lowers her head, shuts her eyes, then takes another deep breath.