It was Keisha's last day of the weekend at home, and the house smelled like cinnamon, roast lamb, and a little bit of nerves.
Flora was in the kitchen, humming low as she stirred the gravy. Her earrings were small gold hoops - elegant, understated, but still sharp enough to say I'm not here to play. She wore her softest wrap dress, the one that said I'm hosting, not auditioning.
Keisha leaned against the counter, slicing cucumbers. "You okay?"
"I'm fine," Flora said, too quickly.
Keisha raised an eyebrow.
Flora sighed. "Your grandmother's coming to my house. That's all."
Keisha grinned. "Want me to hide the wine?"
Flora smirked. "No. I want her to see it."
---
The knock came at exactly 12:00. Not a minute early. Not a second late.
Mr. Collins opened the door with a wide smile. "Mom! Dad! Come in, come in."
Grandma swept in first, wearing a wide-brimmed hat and a floral blouse that looked like it had opinions. Grandpa followed, slower, smiling gently as always.
"Flora," Grandma said, kissing the air beside her cheek. "You look… rested."
Flora smiled. "And you look… floral."
Keisha coughed into her sleeve.
Mr. Collins cleared his throat. "Let's sit. Food's almost ready."
....
The table was beautiful - woven placemats, fresh flowers from the garden, Flora's best dishes. The lamb was tender, the rice fluffy, the chakalaka just spicy enough to make you sweat politely.
They ate over a light conversation, with laughs inbetween nothing awkward or forced atleast not yet...
Until Grandma tilted her head and said, "You know, Flora, I always wondered why you never used the china we gave you for your wedding."
Flora didn't miss a beat. "Because I like mine better."
Grandma blinked. "Oh."
Mr. Collins looked up from his plate. "Mom, the food's amazing, isn't it?"
"It's… different," Grandma said. "Not how I would've done it, but... "
"Mom," he said again, firmer this time. "It's amazing."
Flora kept eating. Calm. Unbothered. But Keisha saw the way her jaw tightened.
Guess something will never change.. Especially her grandmother.
"lets clear the table Keisha" Flora said slowly standing up..
"Keisha will bring dessert"
....
A while later....
After dessert - - guava tart and rooibos tea - they moved to the lounge. Grandpa dozed off in the armchair, snoring softly. Keisha scrolled through her phone, half-listening.
Then Grandma said, "You know, Greg , I ran into Monae the other day. You remember her? From church? Her daughter just had her third baby. Such a lovely girl. So traditional."
Flora stood up. "Excuse me."
She walked out of the room, quiet but fast.
Keisha looked at her dad. "Are you gonna say something?"
He stood. "I'll handle it."
"you never stop dont you" keisha said lookin at her grandma, this was starting to piss her off. If she cant tolerate and try to love the woman
---
He found Flora in the kitchen, arms crossed, staring out the window.
"She's doing it again," Flora said. "Right in front of you."
"I know."
"You always know. But you never say anything."
Mr. Collins stepped closer. "I'm saying something now."
Flora turned to him, eyes sharp. "Too late for today."
He reached for her hand. "I'm sorry."
She pulled away. "I set this table. I cooked this meal. I opened my home. And she still finds a way to make me feel like I don't belong."
He was quiet for a moment. Then he said, "You belong more than anyone. And I'm going to tell her that."
Greg said and walked out of the kitchen.
...
Back in the lounge, Keisha was still scrolling when her dad walked in.
"Mom," he said, voice calm but firm. "You need to stop."
Grandma looked up. "Stop what?"
"Stop making digs at Flora. Stop comparing. Stop pretending you don't know what you're doing."
Grandma's mouth opened. Closed. "I was just—"
"No," he said. "You weren't just anything. You were being unkind. And I won't have it in my house, after all these years you still don't like do you . Deal with it cause I already married her and she gave me a daughter, stop mentioning kids all the time you don't know what we're going through in our marriage, if you want them so bad.. Dad's still alive"
A gasp escaped from Keisha.. Then
There was a long silence.
Then Grandma stood. "Well. I see I'm not welcome."
She grabbed her bag, turned on her heel..
—and slammed the door behind her.
Grandpa blinked awake. "Did I miss something?" woken up by the noise
Keisha patted his arm. "Just a little weather."
Flora returned to the lounge, composed. Mr. Collins walked over and kissed her cheek.
"I'm sorry," he said again.
She nodded. "Thank you."
They sat together, the three of them, sipping tea in the quiet.
...
Some tables are set with food. Others are set with boundaries. And sometimes, both are necessary.