Excerpt from The Revisioners by Margaret Wilkerson Sexton, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

I don't bother to say we didn't have that many other options. I could have gone to my mother's, sure, but there was her mouth to consider, and I couldn't bear the cost. Besides, where would it land us? In a year's time I'd still be in the same predicament. Grandma Martha on the other hand offered to pay me my other salary just to sit with her during the day. King will start tomorrow at the best public middle school in New Orleans. At the end of the year, I'd have enough for my own place, maybe just a townhome and probably one in the hood at that, but still, we could lay down some roots. I made good money with Mr. Jeff, and I got my bartending license to supplement once King's daddy left, but I had to drag myself into Vincent's every night, then back to Mr. Jeff's in the morning. I'm not stupid, I know I should be grateful to have had a job at all, but from where I'm standing, with the antique writing table at my hip, and the signed oil paintings on the walls above me, it might be okay to start to ask for more.

"Well, I'll leave you two to settle in," Grandma says, and she hobbles off down the stairs, taking longer on each one than I remember.

She turns back and catches me looking.

"Maybe I'll see you for dinner. Of course we don't have to sit down every night, but since it's our first one together, we'll want to commemorate it, won't we?"

I look at King the same time he looks at me. We had heard stories about the chef, whom Grandma has always called BeeBee, about the made-to-order meals, bread pudding, pastries with chocolate ganache. He smiles.

"That'll be lovely," I say.

Excerpted from The Revisioners by Margaret Wilkerson Sexton. Copyright © 2019 by Margaret Wilkerson Sexton. Excerpted by permission of Counterpoint Press. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.