We walked back into the family room as Eloise announced that dinner was ready. Everyone walked toward the massive dining room that looked like it was decked out for heads of state, with seating for well over twelve. Porter walked over to me, gently putting a hand on my shoulder. I turned to face him and smiled.
“What were you and my mother talking about in the kitchen? She really had you hostage for a while,” he laughed. “Should I have rescued you? Once she gets going, Eloise can talk!”
“Oh, she was just fine…showing me how to make gumbo.”
Oblivious, Porter raised an eyebrow. “And did you get any good tips?”
“I learned that the secret is in the roux. Sometimes you have to burn a few batches to get it just right.”
Porter shook his head with a smile. “Actually, that sounds like something my dad would say.”
I smiled. “Smart man.”
Porter pulled out a seat for me at the massive table directly across from his brother Todd and Kim. Todd looked up from his drink and smirked. Either Todd didn’t like me, or he was really feeling his bourbon. A small waitstaff brought out portions of the food to be served at the table. Eloise said she had everything catered, except the gumbo. She couldn’t bring herself to have someone else handle that. Everyone laughed as Desmond proclaimed he didn’t care who cooked the food just as long as there was plenty of curry goat.
After Desmond said grace, everyone passed around the myriad of dishes. I was so overwhelmed that I decided I would simply just try a little of everything. I mean, everything looked so delicious. Plus, I had to make room for Eloise’s gumbo. Just as I was scooping out a small portion of the curry goat and passing the bowl to one young lady, I felt Porter’s hand on my knee. I looked over at him and smiled.
“So, you two, how is the design for the soccer stadium coming?” Eloise asked. She passed the rice and peas to her husband, who greedily piled his plate high.
“Oh yes, real football deserves a real stadium,” chimed Desmond with a smile. “I can finally enjoy a game instead of that nonsense you all call football.” Everyone laughed. Well, everyone except Todd.
“It’s going really well,” said Porter. “Ari has an amazing design eye. She added these vineyard-type slopes to the fan experience. I think her designs have pleased the Serrano brothers.” I could feel myself blushing. No one had bragged so much about my work, especially not a colleague. It felt amazing.
“Yes,” I echoed. “I think that the Serrano brothers really like what we’re doing. Porter is adding some really nice, high-concept design touches as well.”
Eloise looked at both of us and smiled. “You two seem to work together well.”
“We’re finding our groove,” said Porter. I felt his hand once again on my knee.
The waitstaff brought out small bowls of gumbo topped with beds of rice. Eloise smiled. “Everyone eat up. It’s Senior’s recipe!” Porter smiled at his brother. Todd raised his replenished glass of bourbon in silent tribute. I tasted the gumbo. The spices danced on my tongue. It was literally the best I had ever had in my entire life.
“Amazing, Eloise,” I whispered to her.
She smiled and patted my hand. “Thanks, sweetheart. But all the credit belongs to Senior.”
As the waitstaff served more gumbo, everyone sat at the table, enjoying each other’s conversation. I learned about how Kim and Todd met as law students and the pressures of her job in the district attorney’s office. She said it was an “old boys’ club” and there was no room for a Black woman at the top. I nodded, feeling empathetic. It was part of the reason I left Chicago. Even if Maurice hadn’t sabotaged me, the old guard would only let me go so far before I hit that glass ceiling. I had hope that I could grow at Riddle and Robinson. No glass ceiling in sight.
“Porter, I’m really proud of you, son!” said Desmond. “After this stadium, partnership is within reach for you.”
“Ughhhh!” groaned Todd. “All fucking day! Porter this! Porter that! Porter’s building a soccer stadium. Porter’s bringing a friend to Thanksgiving. You’ve all been ass-kissing and fawning over your precious Porter! Who gives a shit!”
The entire dining room was so quiet, you could hear folks’ thoughts. I looked at Porter whose eyes were shooting flaming hot daggers in his brother’s direction. His nostrils flared. “Dude, what the entire fuck is wrong with you!”
“Hey!” Eloise yelled. “Have the two of you lost your ever-loving minds to think you can curse in my house! Do you think you’re that grown?”