The storm Rages

Chapter 8

Mikey stepped out of the car, his eyes darting left and right as he scanned the neighborhood. It was second nature—an instinct. He walked a few paces behind Ali, his presence a silent shield as she trudged up the path to his grandmama's front porch. The old screen door creaked as he pulled it open, and the warmth of the house poured out into the chilly early morning.

Just then, one of his nephews—a small boy with wild curls and a shirt too big for him—raced past, nearly bumping into Ali.

"Malik," Mikey called, his voice calm but firm. "Go call Grandmama."

The boy skidded to a stop, looking between Mikey and Ali with wide eyes. "Why?"

"Just do it, kid," Mikey said, giving him a look. "Tell her we got company."

The boy huffed but turned and ran off, his voice echoing through the house. "Grandma! Uncle  Mikey home, and he got someone with him!"

Ali stood there, shifting on her feet. She rubbed her arms, feeling the cold seep in despite the warmth of the hoodie. She knew the old lady wasn't going to be thrilled to see her. Memories of her last visit—tense, short, filled with judgmental glances—rushed back, tightening the knot in her stomach.

A moment later, Grandmama appeared, her small frame taking up the doorway. She wore a faded house dress and an expression that said she'd seen too much to be impressed by anything anymore. Her eyes narrowed as they landed on Ali.

"Now, what is this?" she barked, hands on her hips. "What she doin' here, Mikey?"

Mikey's face remained impassive. "She needs a place to stay. Just for a couple of hours."

Grandmama's lips pursed, and she let out a snort. "She ain't welcome here., boy."

Ali flinched at the words, but Mikey stayed calm, his voice level. "I got somethin' I need to handle."

Grandmama's eyes flicked between the two of them, her disapproval plain as day. "You think I forgot, boy? I know what happened back then. She walkin' back here now, thinkin' it's all good—nah, not in my house."

Ali's eyes dropped to the floor, the sting of the rejection biting deep. She started to step back, but Mikey held his ground.

"Just this once, Grandmama," he said, his voice softer now. "I ain't askin' for much. I just need you to look out for her a bit."

Grandmama folded her arms, her expression still hard. "You a damn fool, Mikey. Always was, always will be." She shook her head, muttering under her breath. "Takin' in strays like they ain't gon' bite you again."

Mikey's gaze didn't waver. "Please, Grandmama."

For a moment, there was silence. Grandmama stared at Mikey, and Ali could feel the weight of the old woman's judgment pressing down on her. But then, something shifted in Grandmama's eyes. She sighed heavily, the frustration on her face slowly giving way to a begrudging acceptance.

"Fine. But don't think I'm doin' this for her. I'm doin' it for you, and you better not make me regret it."

Mikey nodded, relief flickering briefly in his eyes. "Thank you ma'am."

"Don't ma'am me, you damn fool." She turned her gaze to Ali, still looking displeased. "Well, girl, come on then. Don't just stand there like a ghost. Follow me."

Ali glanced at Mikey, hesitation clear on her face. He gave her a nod, his eyes saying everything he didn't. She knew he had her back, but whatever he was about to do, he couldn't take her along. She needed to trust him, just like she used to.

With a deep breath, she followed Grandmama through the narrow hallway, leaving Mikey by the door.

"Sit yourself down," Grandmama ordered as they entered the kitchen. The space was small but cozy, filled with the smell of cooking spices and old wood. "I'mma fix you somethin' to eat. Lookin' like you ain't had a proper meal in months."

Ali took a seat at the kitchen table, feeling the warmth of the house settle around her. It wasn't exactly a welcome, but it was something. She looked back at the hallway, catching one last glimpse of Mikey before he disappeared out the door.