“Oh, it’s uh, Chez Moi.” Liza rubbed the back of her neck. “My sister and I made it.”

Gigi froze. “Like with needles and thread?”

“Exactly that.” Liza nodded.

“That’s dope. That’s like pioneer-woman dope.” Gigi still looked at her with half-moist eyes. Who did this poor girl think Liza was? What had Dorsey told her? Liza looked up at Dorsey, and he had the strangest look in his eyes. She had something sharp and prickly to say—right at the tip of her tongue. But that look chased the words right back down her throat.

“So, about that dance . . .” he finally said.

“How about an Electric Slide?” Liza blinked prettily.

“How about a slow song?” Dorsey countered.

“A slow jam! Dorsey, I never expected to see you bumping and grinding in such a fancy place,” Liza said, a smug grin widening across her face.

“In polite company, we can get away with a bump at most. Were you expecting a grind as well?” He smiled with satisfaction as Liza snatched her eyes away. “Soon,” was all he said.

Wait, did he mean soon for the dance, or soon for the grind? Oh god, why am I even entertaining the grind comment?

“I feel like I should tell you both that I’m still here.” Gigi waved her hand. It was as if she had reappeared in front of them.

“Sorry, Gigi. It was a pleasure.” His sister said her goodbyes, and when Liza looked up, Dorsey was gone.

She sat at the wide circle table alone while her family wreaked havoc on the party. Maurice tried to go onstage twice to say his spoken-word piece about police brutality. The second time he got out at least a stanza before security ushered him offstage. LeDeya was on the dance floor, twerking to songs from Porgy and Bess. Janae came to sit next to Liza with a desperate look in her eyes.

“What?” Liza said.

“It’s Ma. You’ve got to stop her.”

“You know I can’t—”

“Liza, she is going around telling everyone that will listen that me and David are practically engaged, and that she’s going to have mixed grandbabies,” Janae whispered frantically.

“Okay, she is on another level of crazy,” Liza said. She saw her mother and made a beeline for her, just in time to overhear her conversation.

“Right! I say she pokes a hole in that condom, and she is set for life!” Everyone around her groaned in response, but Bev didn’t seem to notice.

“Momma!” Liza said. She saw Dorsey eyeing them but kept pulling her mother away.

“Let me go, girl, what is your problem?”

“Watch your mouth, Ma!”

“I’m a grown-ass woman. You watch your mouth.” A few people turned to watch.

“Momma! You cannot—” Liza was interrupted by Maurice bum-rushing the stage again.

“I am the white man’s burden!” he screamed with all the patterns and gesticulations of a slam poet.