Snort! Kendra jolted awake, her face
pressed against the cool window shade. She forced a cough to clear her throat,
her cheeks coloring as she realized she’d been snoring. Her eyes darted around
to see if anyone in the neighboring seats had heard, and she rushed to wipe the
side of her mouth, checking for drool. No one in the row in front of her seemed
to have noticed anything, and she was thankful that most of the first- class
passengers were wearing noise-canceling headphones and watching in-flight movies.
Pull yourself together, girl. Taking a deep
breath, she covered her face with the palms of her hands, willing herself
awake.
The sweet woman next to her patted her arm
with a chuckle. “You must have been tired, dear. You missed the meal and
everything!”
Thank god I didn’t have to pay for this
upgrade. Kendra yawned and nodded in agreement. “I’ve traveled quite a bit in
the past two weeks. I’m looking forward to a good night’s sleep.” I could
honestly go back to sleep right now.
“Are you heading home?”
Home.
She smiled tightly. “Yeah, something like
that.” Truth was, she’d been a tumbleweed for the past two years. Home was
wherever she decided to rest her head, though she’d been craving a place to
plant her roots—something she hadn’t been sure she’d ever do when she left. And
she never fathomed that she’d have a desire to return to the US to do so.
A chime sounded before a flight attendant
spoke over the loudspeaker. “Ladies and gentlemen, we have begun our de- scent
into Reagan Washington National Airport. As we pre- pare for landing, please
make sure your seat backs and tray tables are in their full upright and locked
position. Your lap- tops should be put away and . . .”
Kendra offered a small smile to her
neighbor. “Are you returning home?”
The woman shook her head, the scent of her
gourmand perfume wafting over Kendra in waves of vanilla and toffee. “My
daughter’s. She’s going to be induced next week. My fourth grandbaby!” She
grinned with pride and rummaged through her purse, which she cradled in her lap
protectively.
“Aw, congratulations! That’s so exciting.”
A cell phone was shoved in her face, showing three smiling kids, two missing
their front teeth. “They’re very cute.”
Once they landed and arrived at the gate,
Kendra helped her row mate with her bag and headed toward baggage claim as her
phone pinged with a text message.
Lani: Is you here yet?? Inquiring minds
(aka your nosy brother and your parents) want to know . . .
Kendra: The eagle has landed.
Lani: Tuh! I know you haven’t returned from
Gulliver’s travels with a big ass head SMH. Make sure you look like somethin
before you waltz your ass up in here . . .
She rolled her eyes and sent her cousin a
middle finger emoji before tucking her phone into her pocket. Returning home
hit different now that Kendra was deemed a failure—it felt like tucking tail
and admitting defeat after desperately trying to carve an uncharted path with
nothing but hope and a blunt instrument. Whether anyone would admit it, the
hushed tones of the family whisper network turned up the volume on every
inadequacy and failed attempt, and once again the grumblings shone a spotlight
directly onto Kendra. Always the fucking black sheep.
Kendra sighed, muttering to herself as she
approached her fifth red light in a row. “Now they’ll get to harp on the fact
that I’m late.” She glanced at the clock on her dashboard and shook her head
with annoyance.
Having run home just long enough to drop
off her suit- case and pick up her car, she’d rushed back out before her family
started blowing up her phone. DC traffic was only predictable in that it was
inevitable, and finding parking was next to impossible. Sometimes, the search
for parking took as long as the commute. That never stopped Kendra from wanting
to drive—yes, one could take the Metro or ride- share to a destination, but
that meant having to depend on too many outside variables when she was ready to
leave— she was too much of a control freak to depend on the time- liness of
others, and when she wanted to go, she wanted to go. Waiting on others to do
what she was more than capable of doing herself drove her up the wall. Being
the baby in the family didn’t mean that she was any less capable than Big Bro.
Being away from home for two years left her
second- guessing directions and she cursed under her breath as she missed her
exit from the same traffic circle twice. At some point, people enjoying the
park would begin to think she was casing the neighborhood. Kendra bit her lip,
her eyes widen- ing as a car sped into the lane to her right as she attempted
to maneuver over to catch the exit on her third try. She slid into the lane
behind the Prius that had come out of nowhere and finally made the right turn
out of the roundabout from hell.
Kendra zipped through the congestion on
Rhode Island Avenue, having dropped all of her belongings off at the English
basement apartment below her brother’s row house. The family golden boy. Logan
had stopped offering the basement as a vacation rental when Kendra announced
her return to town, and she’d eagerly agreed to help launch his new business
for a month or two of free rent. Her best friend and cousin’s name appeared on
the center console screen of Kendra’s Audi Q3, and she pressed a button on her steering
wheel to answer her phone via the car’s Bluetooth system as she stopped at a
traffic light. “Hey, girl, hey!”
“You’re late, you know,” Lani quipped in a
hushed tone, evoking an immediate eye roll out of Kendra. “Everyone’s waiting
for you to make an appearance! Logan said he hasn’t even seen you yet.”
“Yeah, that’s the beauty of smart
locks—there’s no longer a need for me to knock on Logan’s front door and ask
for a key to his basement. It’s bad enough that the prodigal child has to
return and immediately ask her big brother for help for the umpteenth time.”
Kendra chewed on her bottom lip, willing her face to express less of her
reluctance to come back to the DMV area. It wasn’t that she didn’t love DC—she
did—it was just that she was always hidden by Logan’s shadow. It wasn’t his
fault, and Kendra looked up to Big Bro for everything he was able to
accomplish, but sometimes his success sucked up all of the oxygen in the room.
“Now, don’t be dramatic, Keke,” Lani chided
in her sing- songy voice.
Kendra bristled at her childhood nickname.
“And remind me again why you couldn’t just let me come and stay at your place?
You know that I’m not above bumming it on a couch.”
Lani tsked nonchalantly. “Come on, girl, no
one should be subjected to that much sex. Can’t have you telling my aunt and
uncle about my sexcapades. Your mom already thinks I’m too fast anyway.”
Kendra smirked. You are. “She already knows
you’re fast, heffa.”
“You told her?!” Lani’s hushed growl made
Kendra cackle. “You really don’t remember trying to sneak a boy into our house
when you were staying with us for spring break?” She’d been grounded for the
rest of high school and subjected to regular lectures about the birds and the
bees. Auntie Mack refused to be a grandmother early, so she made herself an
impactful prophylactic. Logan and all the boy cousins were tasked with looking
out for Lani and Kendra, as if the lot weren’t all
pussy-whipped themselves.
“Uh, that was a teenage mistake. Does
Auntie Al think I’m fast too? You haven’t told her anything recent, right?”
Lani’s whispering was more of an exasperated shout with the volume turned down.
“If she thinks I’m up to anything, she’ll tell my mom, and then I’ll never hear
the end of it.”
“Girl, your mom has known since you started
wearing all that eyeliner in middle school,” Kendra chuckled. “And that
mulberry lipstick? You thought you were serving. You’d hit ’em with the duck
lips and hands on your hips anytime some- one tried to take a picture.”
Lani groaned. “Shut up, there’s a
difference between duck lips and a smize. And thought? Bitch, I was stuntin’ on
them hos.”
Kendra could practically hear the hair flip
on the other side
of the line. “Mmmkay, well, back to what I
was saying. I could be at your place hearing sex-foolery, but instead I’m up
under Logan . . . again.” Thankfully there was a main floor between Kendra’s
unit and her brother’s bedroom, so she was absolved from having to hear his
sexcapades, but still.
“Well, but it’s only temporary, and
besides, the savings is
good for you while you’re still in the
planning stages of opening up your own spot.”
“Why must you be reasonable?” Kendra
whined. Every- thing Lani said was true, but the closer she got to the bistro
location that Logan and his wife, Shonda, were opening together, the more
Kendra’s stomach performed a Simone Biles– level floor exercise—one of those
extra good ones that would eventually be named after her because no one else
could perfect it the way she could.
“One of us has to be reasonable, so suck it
up, buttercup. Now, what’s your ETA?” Lani was resistant to Kendra’s shit— she
had a no-nonsense approach to pretty much everything and didn’t believe in
coddling unless she needed it herself. It didn’t help that, as cousins born two
weeks apart, they’d been best friends since they shared a playpen. Lani knew
all of Kendra’s tactics.
“I’m about to park. Give me a minute or two
to gather myself, and then I’ll be in.” Well, maybe five minutes.
“Bet. Oh, and be careful when you walk in
here, Keke—
Stanley just waxed the floors.”
“Noted.” Kendra steered her car into the
first open parking spot. “I’ll be in there in a few.”
“’Kay, bye.”
The phone disconnected, and Kendra took a
deep breath. What is awaiting me inside? She cursed herself for not asking who
all would be present to help put the finishing touches on the restaurant before
its opening in a few days. As she closed her eyes to meditate, her phone rang
again. She jabbed at the button on her steering wheel. “We literally just hung
up, Lani.”
“Well, don’t sit out in your car forever
either. Someone already mentioned that they saw you pull up.”
Kendra rolled her eyes, kissing her teeth.
“Get off my phone, ma’am. I need a sec.” Leave me be!
Lani dropped her voice to a gruff whisper.
“Bring yo’ ass
in here, ho. A certain someone been askin’
about you.” She drew out the last word teasingly. “Take a fuckin’ hint,” she
whispered through gritted teeth.
Kendra’s face scrunched up as her head
tilted, her mind racing to run through the list of everyone she expected to be
present in these final days of prep before the big launch. “Who?”
“Mr. Big and Sexy, the chocolate drop
himself.”
Huh? Kendra blew out a breath loudly,
pinching the bridge of her nose. “Cousin, that description applies to half of
the brothas in the DMV. Can you be more specific?”
“If you don’t carry your behind on You know what?
We don’t have time for this.” Lani’s hushed
tone changed to a loud call. “Hey, look, y’all. I think that’s Keke’s car right
there!” Voices in the background converged into a jumble drowned out by a peal
of villainous laughter.
I’m gonna kill her. “Lani!” Kendra snapped
as the call disconnected. So much for a moment of peace. She inhaled deeply,
exhaling through her mouth before wiping the scowl from her face and climbing
out of the car into a light breeze that made her pull her coat lapels closer to
her neck. She flung her tote bag over her shoulder as she crossed the narrow
side street to enter the front door of the brightly lit restaurant with a giant
banner and the word PALATE set between a set of cutlery. “Here we go,” she muttered.
As Kendra stepped onto a narrow welcome mat
just inside the glass door, which had been propped open to allow in the sharp
almost-spring air, the scents of fresh paint and oranges wafted toward her. She
peered around the dining room in search of the chocolate drop Lani was hinting
about, making eye contact with her brother, Logan, and her sister-in-law,
Shonda, whose face brightened as she headed toward the end of the bar to show
some love. “Hey, you made it!”
“Yeah, I . . . whoa shit!” Kendra took one
step forward and slipped, fully expecting to be met with the well-polished
lacquered hardwood when a pair of strong arms wrapped around her and righted
her, the warmth of a large hand imprinting the small of her back as her legs
wobbled. “Right, careful with the floors . . . Thanks,” she laughed with
embarrassment.
“Been a long time, Kenny,” a gravelly
baritone voice caused her head to jerk upward. His sturdy six-foot frame drew
closer, holding her against his hip so that she could steady herself. The
scents of smoky oud and tobacco emanated from his skin. Kendra gulped as her
eyes widened. Damn, he got even finer.
BJ Stephens glowered at her curiously, the
same way he had when they were teenagers, and Kendra’s cheeks warmed as she
took in his smooth umber skin. She’d never seen him in jeans and work boots
before, but the look suited him.
“Hey, B, long time. How you been?” She
reached up to wrap her arms around his neck as his wound around her waist. As
she turned her head to peck his cheek, he moved slightly and her lips landed at
the angle of his jaw, just below his ear, his closely-groomed beard soft
against her skin. Her eyes bulged as she stepped back, unsure whether he’d
think she tried to kiss his neck on purpose. Clumsy and awkward . . . we’re off
to a great start. She made space between them, willing her cheeks not to
broadcast her embarrassment. She cleared her throat before looking up at him.
BJ’s dark, spectacled eyes trained on her,
his expression unreadable. “Good. But you’re the one who’s been gone. How were
your travels? Last I heard, you were cooking your way through Asia and Europe.”
Kendra beamed, nodding. “I loved every
minute of it. Ap- prenticed under a few chefs, caught up with a few cousins
when I hit Thailand and the Philippines. Collected a ton of cooking techniques
and recipes. Made some new friends and gave a few lessons on Creole cooking.”
“You didn’t make new friends at the expense
of old ones, I hope.” The corners of his mouth twitched, drawing Kendra’s
attention to his full lips. It always took a lot to make BJ smile. A laugh was
even more rare but craveable. As long as Kendra had known her brother’s best
friend, she never was good at reading him. Once in a while, he’d allow his face
to show his playfulness, but most of the time, his underwhelmed, almost gruff
expression remained constant. Joy, pain—even annoyance—were less common expressions
than the general grumpy-observer vibe he gave off. But behind the prickly mask
was an intelligent, loyal, good human who often put others before himself.
“Never that,” she laughed. They’d known
each other for over two decades—ever since her family had relocated from New
Orleans to the nation’s capital. Kendra had been in middle school, and Logan
was just about to start high school. He met BJ his first day of classes, and
they became fast friends after almost coming to blows over the attentions of
the same girl. Logan had brought BJ home for some of Momma’s cooking to make
amends, and the rest was history—Momma won over many hearts with her Creole
family recipes, and BJ’s was no exception. Logan had been lucky. Truth be told,
BJ would have whooped his ass.
BJ was a gym rat to the core, but as
focused as he was on macros to build muscle mass, he made two exceptions
without question: Momma’s cookin’ and good whiskey. As he solidified his place
within the family’s inner circle, he’d always been the one to mediate Kendra’s
arguments with her brother—a dependable voice of reason who wasn’t quick to
pick sides.
Kendra and Logan never fought
physically—Momma would never allow that—but Kendra would cut to the white meat
with her words, and when she went low, Logan went straight to the depths of
hell. “You still enjoying the professor life? I heard you were awarded tenure
while I was out of the country. Congratulations are in order! I was really
excited to hear the news. You’ve worked so hard to get to this place.”
His head bobbed as he smoothed a hand over
his facial hair. The top half of his dark, shoulder-length locs were twisted
and tied back away from his face as he regarded her intently. “Thanks! Yeah,
it’s been good so far, but I’m on sabbatical this semester. I need to do some
research for my next book proposal.”
BJ taught courses on historic preservation,
focusing on heritage conservation, architectural history and preservation,
urban planning, and adaptive reuse. Most of it went over Ken- dra’s head, but
she loved that he focused a good amount of his work on Black heritage tourism.
The way that he highlighted the importance of transforming abandoned sites to
frame and highlight pivotal points in history had always been a source of
inspiration for her.
Kendra tilted her head. “About that,
actually, maybe I can pick your brain about something later. I’ve got something
brewing businesswise, and it’s right up your alley.” She tapped his arm with
her fingers and admired the results that his hard work in the gym had
developed.
BJ’s eyebrows rose, but Lani slid across
the floor Risky Business–style right into Kendra’s arms before he could
respond. He nodded brusquely and sauntered back toward the bar, where Logan was
installing some shelving.
“Bitch, you made it!” Her cousin squeezed
Kendra tightly before stepping back to assess her appearance, a wrinkle forming
between her eyebrows. Lani was all about vibrant colors, and Kendra’s palette
was much more neutral, so she was al- ways being bullied to step outside of her
comfort zone and into prints that she found too busy, too bright, too
attention- grabbing. Lani was in a pair of ripped, acid-washed blue jeans and a
loud color-blocked sweater with bright red sneakers. She narrowed her eyes at what
she would consider to be low frequencies emanating from Kendra’s look.
Kendra dropped a hand onto her hip and
posed. “Don’t play me, I know I look good.” Her coffee-colored duster over a
white cropped tee and white high-waisted jogger pants hugged her curves and
made her feel clean, like fresh air after a hard rain. She’d pulled her thick,
silk-pressed tresses into a sleek ponytail, and per usual, her shades sat on
top of her head like a headband. Kendra ran her fingers through her pony- tail,
curling the ends around her index finger, and popped her tongue playfully.
Lani leaned forward, her eyes wide.
“Mmm-hmm. And a certain someone noticed too.”
“Who? Stanley? I wouldn’t exactly describe
him as a chocolate drop. Maybe more like a hazelnut latte.” Kendra tilted her
head, assessing the occupants of the room. There was Logan and Shonda, BJ,
Auntie Al, Shonda’s sister Bree, Kendra’s par- ents, and Stanley, who was
staring at Lani like she stole some- thin’. Logan had a team of people that
he’d walked back toward the kitchen, who Kendra assumed were the new restaurant
staff. BJ was carrying cartons of wine and spirits down to the basement cellar.
Kendra’s mom and Aunt Alisa were pretending to wipe down the counters, but
they’d been hovering over the same spot at the bar pointing at Kendra and
whispering. The family motto should be: “Subtlety? We don’t know her.”
Stanley’s tall and lean build was squeezed
behind some shelving that he was putting together for a wall display. Ken-
dra’s dad, Braxton, was reading the assembly instructions aloud to Stanley,
whose attention remained trained on Lani, who seemed completely unaware. Kendra
made eye contact with Shonda across the room, gesturing slightly with her chin
toward Stanley, and Shonda’s smile grew wide. She nodded slowly, steepling her
fingers like a mastermind with an evil plan. Kendra winked in response.
“Not Stanley, silly. BJ was asking about
you,” Lani whispered, her arm entwined with Kendra’s to keep her from slip-
ping again.
BJ? Kendra’s face screwed up into a giant
question mark. “Huh? Why?”
Her cousin shrugged. “I’ve been clocking it
for the last week. Anytime your name was brought up, he was all ears.”
“I mean, we’ve known the guy a long time,
so that doesn’t feel out of the ordinary to me. We haven’t seen each other in
years.” Kendra’s last post before her travels was in Silicon Valley. She often
returned home for the holidays, but BJ al- ways went to be with his parents in
Charlotte. When Kendra had been laid off from her role as a chief data officer
for a thriving startup that was absorbed by a tech giant, she’d taken her
generous severance package and savings to do some soul- searching around the globe.
BJ had checked in once in a while to ask where she was and how she was doing.
He’d always been thoughtful in that way.
After visiting family in Thailand and the
Philippines, Kendra went to parts of Europe and finished off her trip in New
Orleans spending quality time with her Granny. Each destination brought her new
adventures and lessons in the culinary world and in determining what tools she
would use to pave her path. Everyone in the family had built a legacy in their
own way, and it finally felt like Kendra’s turn.
“There’s my ray of sunshine!” Kendra’s dad
opened his arms and wrapped her into a warm hug, the scent of tobacco smoke
lingering on his jacket.
She squeezed him tight, tucking her chin
for her father to kiss her forehead. “Daddy! Mmm, what cigar were you smoking?
It smells spicy.”
“Your brother bought me a box of maduros,
so we decided to have some coffee and sample them before we got started today.”
Her dad’s bronzed skin and thick, straight hair was tousled with some sort of
product. Born in Los Angeles to a Filipino mother and a Thai father, he was the
embodiment of California, wearing a jean jacket over a light sweater and
slacks. When he met his wife, Regina, at George Washington University, he
embraced DC with her, setting down roots, eventually convincing Auntie Al and
Uncle Ronnie to move up from New Orleans to experience all four seasons. Their
time in DC was cut short as they moved back to New Orleans when they started
their family––free childcare was worth the return, thanks to Granny and PawPaw.
Once Kendra and Logan were old enough to
fend for themselves, Braxton and Regina moved back into their DC home, which
they’d rented out while down south. Auntie Mack fell in love with Charleston,
and Kendra’s maternal grandmother remained in New Orleans alone now that Paw-
Paw had passed. Her paternal grandparents remained in Los Angeles, giving her a
reason to get some California sunshine whenever possible, but she’d caught them
on their annual trip to visit family during her time in Asia.
“That’s a bold move to start with a maduro,
but you know I like those. Especially if the coffee happened to be Irish.”
Kendra shared a knowing glance with her father as she pulled back, his arm
still around her waist.
Braxton Porter kissed his daughter’s cheek,
lowering his voice to barely a whisper before winking at her mischievously.
“Your brother and I may have already had an Irish coffee or two out on the
patio. Don’t tell your mother.”
Kendra giggled, raising her hands in
surrender. “Your secret is safe with me.” They walked toward the bar area,
which was painted a deep emerald green with creamy quartz countertops and
golden fixtures. The herringbone pattern in the cherrywood flooring gleamed
with gradients of reddish browns. “Wow, this place is gorgeous,” she gushed.
Natural light flooded in through massive
picture windows dressed with velvet curtains the color of the faintest blush.
On the windowsills were decorative vases and small plants, like succulents and
snake plants—ones that didn’t require a lot of attention. On the walls were
several blown-up photographs from Logan and Shonda’s travels as they’d hit
different countries on their bucket list and sampled different cuisines to find
the right balance of flavors to feature on their menu of global fare. BJ had busied
himself hanging another portrait, and Kendra studied his profile, taking in the
broadness of his shoulders and the way his Henley sleeves were pushed up to his
forearms, the fabric over his chest and arms hugging his physique. This man
just gets better with age . . .
“Yo, can you chill, cuz? You are lookin’ at
him like he’s a
four-course meal and you wanna come back
for seconds . . .”
Kendra froze, her neck and cheeks
immediately coloring at Lani’s observation. “Say it louder, I think the kitchen
staff didn’t hear you!” Kendra hissed, her attention snapping away from the
strong arms lifting a black-and-white photograph of a wine cellar full of
barrels on a long wall leading toward the unisex bathrooms.
BJ glanced in her direction before
returning to his task and leveling the frame. Heat crawled up the column of
Kendra’s throat, her skin boiling as she stared her cousin down.
“If he heard you, I swear on all things
holy that I will tell your mom all about how her favorite cashmere sweater got
ruined.” Kendra wiggled her fingers like she was casting a spell on her cousin.
“You wouldn’t.” Lani’s eyes darted around
in a panic. As teenagers, she and Kendra snuck out to meet some boys, and Lani
swiped her mom’s ultrasoft cardigan to wear over a barely there tank top and
coochie cutters. The fast heffa swore the sweater added a level of
sophistication to her look. Suffice it to say that it was St. Patty’s Day, and
she spilled a green pint of beer on the luxe creamy knit, leaving a giant
mint-colored swatch that she couldn’t explain. Instead, Lani framed the family
dog and asserted that he’d dragged the sweater outside into the grass. Auntie
Mack was devastated.
Kendra’s sinister smile spread like the
Grinch stealing Christmas. “Try me.”
Excerpted from The
Dating Prohibition by Taj McCoy © 2025 by Taj McCoy, used with
permission from HarperCollins/MIRA Books.
