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📍The Carter House
Atlanta, GA|January 30th, 2023
Sundays at the Carter house hit different. It was one of those rare days when I actually felt like I could exhale. I pulled up to my parents' place just after noon, windows slightly cracked and Brent Faiyaz playing low through the speakers. The air was crisp, sunlight glinting off the hood of my Hellcat as I parked behind my Pops', Giovanni's black Tahoe. The driveway was already full—typical. Sundays meant family, food, and somebody always arguing about UNO rules.
I walked in through the back door, greeted instantly by the smell of sweet cornbread and barbecue. My stomach growled on sight. "Mmm... Mama been in her bag." I said to myself, already unzipping my hoodie. "Legend! Close my damn screen door, you letting all the heat out," Mama called from the kitchen, apron on and slippers dragging across the tile. Morgan Carter did not play about her house or her food.
I chuckled. "Yes ma'am." "Legend!" Sierra screamed from the hallway, rushing over to hug me with a smile that mirrored mine. "You finally decided to show up." "Girl, I was here right on time. I ain't got a personal alarm set to you." I ruffled her curly puff before she rolled her eyes and went to go mess with Maya. "Where my plate at, Ma?" I walked into the kitchen, giving her a kiss on the cheek. "Plate?" She raised a brow. "Boy, don't come in here asking for plates until you earn one. You better go outside and fire up that grill like your daddy told you." "Swear I can't even breathe in this house without working," I muttered, grabbing the tray of marinated ribs from the fridge. "Keep talkin' slick and you won't breathe at all," she said, smirking while dicing onions for the mac and cheese
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Outside, Pops had already pulled out the fold-up chairs and speaker. "You gon' stand there or help out, boy?" I took over the grill while Pops cracked open a cold Modelo. Before long, Lamar and Lennox pulled up—Lamar with a blunt tucked behind his ear and a Nike tech on, Lennox fresh as usual in a crisp hoodie and fitted cap, gold hoops shining in the sunlight.
"What's good, brodie?" Lennox said, giving me a dap. "Chillin'. Tryna eat good, avoid dishes." "You already know Ma not letting you escape dish duty," Lamar laughed. "You still tryna fake like you can't boil rice?" We all laughed as I flipped the ribs and turned the volume up on the speaker. After we vibed and the food got going, we all sat around, hookah going strong, drinks poured, plates stacked with ribs, cornbread, collard greens, baked mac. Sierra and Maya were inside watching something on Netflix, and Mama was on the phone gossiping with Aunt Lisa like always.
