“Oh, it was my thing back in the day. Now I got this broke hip and can’t barely move half my face, but I used to cut up on the dance floor. You like to dance, Juniper?”
“I like to dance, but I won’t claim to be good at it.”
“Well, I didn’t say anything about being good. Long as you can do a two-step, find some joy in it, you’ll be fine.”
“I can definitely do two-step.” Juniper laughs. “I love music.”
“Oh yeah?” Grammy says. “What records you like listening to?”
I drive as Grammy and Juniper talk all things soul and funk, and then careen right into a conversation about the best holiday albums of all time.
I can’t decide if the way Juniper and Grammy are hitting it off is really cute or extra annoying. How is it that in less than five minutes, Grammy has learned more about Juniper than I have all school year? And where did Grammy get all these opinions about Christmas music?
“Eh-hem.” I cough about twenty minutes later when there’s a short silence. “Hate to break this up, but we’re here.” I pull the car into the driveway of a large Victorian mansion sitting on about three acres of land.
“What is this place?” Juniper asks, peering out of her window.
“A teahouse,” I say.
Juniper flashes a surprised smile at me. “Wow, OK. You bringing me to a teahouse is unexpected, but I’m here for it.”
“This is one of our favorite places,” Grammy Viv says, unbuckling her seat belt and then struggling to open her door. “That’s why I tagged along. Lyric knows not to come here without me.”
Juniper jumps out the back and gets the door for Grammy Viv before I have a chance to.
“Thanks,” I mouth to her, and she takes Grammy’s arm and waits for me to lock up.
Juniper nods and then says to both of us: “This looks right out of a Hallmark Christmas movie.”
“Oh, I don’t watch that channel anymore,” Grammy Viv says. “It’s full of dumb white people being happy. I like Lifetime better—those movies have a little more grit, more murder and such. Plus—this spot is Black owned. So, we find joy here, but not happiness. Happiness is for white people.”
“Grammy!” I scoff. “You can’t just say—”
But Juniper is laughing again. “You’re not wrong, Ms. Vivian. You’re not wrong. I just love a cheesy Christmas romance. So, sometimes I’m willing to endure the white people in Hallmark movies for the season and cheer alone.”
“Well, if you like holiday ambiance, just wait until we get inside,” I say as we make our way to the front entrance. “Ms. Mills goes all out on decor this time of year. It’s impressive.”
“What are we here for?” Juniper asks then.
“Sweets and good company!” Grammy Viv says before I can.
We step through the front doors and a little bell tinkles. The foyer of the house is covered in fresh garlands made of pine and cranberries,and there are poinsettias on every antique surface. The entire place smells like cinnamon and molasses, and a fire roars in a sitting room off of the entryway.
“Whoa,” Juniper says, taking it all in, “this is amazing.”
“I thought you might like it,” I say. “I mean—you said you liked the tacky decor at school, so I wanted to show you how it’s really done.” I nudge Juniper with my shoulder to let her know I’m teasing.
Before Juniper can respond, a petite Black woman with hair the color of fresh snow emerges from a room with a huge smile on her face.
“Lyric, baby! Sister Viv! It’s so good to see you both. I’ve got everything set up just how you like it.” She gives Grammy a hug, then wraps me in her arms before stepping back to look at me. “Just as beautiful as ever. What’s the color on your lips, Lyric? I might need to take myself to Sephora.”
“Nice to see you too, Ms. Mills. And you don’t need to go to Sephora, just take yourself right on over to the nearest drugstore. The color is called Berry Bliss by Miss Mac. It’s a Black-owned drugstore brand.”
Ms. Mills runs over to a drawer, opens it, and grabs a Post-it to write down the name of the color. “Oh, I’m gonna look for that for sure. And who is this?” she says, smiling big at Juniper.
“This is Lyric’s lil date, Juniper,” Grammy butts in, a twinkle in her eye.
I sigh and ignore her. “Ms. Mills, this is myfriendJuniper. She’s new this year, and I thought she’d like this place.”
