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The house smelled amazing. A thick, warm mix of turkey, mac and cheese, yams, and all the other things that only ever came out for Thanksgiving. I stood near the stairs for a second, just taking it in, hearing laughter spill out from the dining room where my parents, Genesis, Zarina, Felix, and a few of our aunts and uncles were already gathering around the big table.
I wiped my hands on my jeans, feeling that nervous excitement bubble up again.
Trayvon was coming.
It still felt crazy sometimes, how someone like him, so put together and confident, wanted to be around me, wanted to meet my loud, chaotic family on one of the biggest holidays of the year.
The doorbell rang, and my heart immediately skipped a beat.
"I got it!" I shouted, jogging over.
When I opened the door, there he was. Trayvon, looking too good for his own good. He wore a clean black sweater that fit just right, some dark jeans, and a pair of fresh sneakers. He held a small tray covered in foil, smiling a little nervously.
"Happy Thanksgiving," he said, voice low and warm.
I grinned. "You're just on time. Come in, come in."
He stepped inside, and the second he did, all the noise from the dining room paused like someone hit mute. Then it picked up again with voices greeting him, my mom calling out from the kitchen, Genesis poking her head around the corner with a smirk.
I helped Trayvon take his shoes off and grabbed the tray from him. "What is this?"
"Peach cobbler. My aunt's recipe," he said, flashing a proud smile. "Figured I shouldn't come empty handed."
I laughed under my breath. "You're officially everyone's favorite now."
We moved to the dining room, and after some quick, casual introductions with the extended family, Trayvon ended up sitting right next to Felix. They clicked instantly, something about the two of them both having this quiet strength under all the sarcasm.
"Boxing, huh?" Trayvon asked after hearing Felix mention his new hobby while everyone piled their plates with food.
Felix nodded, a glint in his eye. "Yeah. Been going for a couple months now. Helps clear my head."
Trayvon leaned back, smiling thoughtfully. "I used to train a little. Nothing serious, just for fitness. But one of my cousins, he was amateur level. Taught me a few things."
Felix perked up. "For real? What kind of stuff?"
As everyone else dug into their food, they launched into a full conversation about footwork, combinations, defensive techniques. Trayvon showed Felix a trick with keeping your lead foot planted strong so you could pivot faster, and Felix ate it up.
Meanwhile, I just sat back, watching it unfold with a quiet kind of pride. Trayvon fit here. Not forced. Not awkward. He wasn't just trying to impress my parents and he was actually bonding with my siblings. Laughing with my uncles. Thanking my mom every time she passed by topping off someone's plate.
