43. Rico
Rico
“Ay.”
Ty-Ty looks up after closing the passenger door to his whip.
I keep walking until I’m a few feet away from him. “When y’all come back?”
Ty-Ty shrugs. “Shit, how I'm feeling… prolly in a few hours. I’on really wanna be away from the prince for too long.”
“Dumbass,” I snort. “Um… well…” I kick at an imaginary rock in the grass, before I sigh and just push out the words.
“Hit me when you get back, so we can kick it. I can bring Mars–”
“You so fuckin’ weird,” Ty-Ty grins. “I thought you bumbling and shit was just a one-time thing with that apology, but you really turn into a mark when you expressing yoself. You ain’t ever been this bad, cuzzo.
Not even with bi–women.” He cackles hard, hard enough for Emiko to open her door and peer at us.
“What’s going on?”
“Yo husband a bitch,” I grit, my fingers itching to strangle him. “This exactly why I beat yo ass every chance I get.”
But he just waves me off. “Yeah, aight. Yo punk ass can roll through when we get back, as long as you bring my lil’ cousin and y’all both be on diaper duty. Was that it? I’m kinda on some I-10 by ten shit with my wife, nigga.”
Ty-Ty closes Emiko back inside as I pull out my phone. I scroll to Peanut’s text thread, and pull up the last picture I sent him, and show my cousin my screen.
He does a double take, grabbing my phone as his eyes expand.
“Nigga,” he breathes, before his mouth spreads into a wide grin.
“Told ya ass, didn’t I?”
He nods, handing me back my phone. “You bet’ not be stumbling and stammering like you was just now either, nigga. And I’ma gloss over the fact you told Nutty before you told me.”
I shrug, grinning. “You ain’t tell me shit about Emiko first, so we even. Settle for second, cabrón.”
“Nah, but, good shit, foreal, Rick.” He reaches out, and daps me up, our fingers curling into a B like they’ve been doing for decades. Like they’ll do for the rest of our lives, every time we shake hands.
I bring him to me, hugging him. We’ve been straight for a couple months now, but I still miss him. Sometimes I feel like I’ve missed out on so much regarding my only cousin on my mama’s side. So much time watching over him, protecting him, that I never get to shoot the breeze with him.
Marriage and fatherhood agree with my boy. I would have never thought Ty-Ty would be as mature as he is now. He and Rone can be in the same room, taking pictures and shit. Makes me feel like for once, he’s teaching me something.
“Proud of you,” I tell him. He hugs me back a little more, before letting me go, so his crybaby ass doesn’t start up again.
“I’m proud of you, too, cuzzo. We gon’ fasho have to catch up soon… right?”
“Yeah,” I grin, pushing him away. “Stay dangerous, nigga.”
He backs away, shaking his head as he rounds his whip to get in the driver’s seat. His pride and joy, before he got married and had a kid. I remember the day I took him to pick Viper up.
I’m sure we’ll be the ones to take Mars to pick up his first car, as well.
He honks when I get to the front door, and I throw it up chunky before I go back inside.
YT and Reem are taking all three of their kids upstairs.
Angel, the oldest, is asleep in one of Reem’s arms, while he carries his baby son, Honor.
YT is holding Honor’s twin sister Valor, who meets my gaze from across the room, showing me gums.
“Here.”
My head pulls down, just as Nan drops another bundle of joy into my arms.
“Come into the kitchen.” She turns and walks off, leaving me with a bewildered baby, who looks exactly like the nigga who just pulled off.
This nigga Mekhi must have jinxed me. That’s the only explanation for this shit.
All the women are cooing and taking pictures. Emir, Ty-Ty’s two month-old son, is sitting on my lap, with my hands supporting him. His fist must taste delicious, because he keeps slobbering over it, his big eyes locked on me.
“Waddup?” I ask. I bounce him gently on my lap, since I think that’s what babies like. It works; he’s all gums now, and there’s more “awwws” as flashes go off.
“That’s your big cousin, Emir!” Lala coos, pinching his cheek.
“Take his fist out his mouth, Ricky!”
“He good,” I tell Nan, bringing him closer. He’s saying something, but I don’t speak baby. He prolly just wants in on this dominoes game, so I turn him around and scoot into the table, where the score card is.
“The game over, Emir. See? Ya big cousin put belt to ass. You’ll feel it firsthand as soon as you learn to count.” I show him the notebook, holding it out of reach from his slobbery hand.
“Do you want kids, Rico?”
The familiar ache forms in my chest like always when I hear this question.
No matter how much I tell myself I had no business being a father at seventeen, that I support Snow’s decision, especially because of the whole reason she found out she was pregnant, my chest still feels a pang, and a sense of missing something that never was pokes at my mind.
“Yeah, if my lady’s up to it,” I finally reply.
“And when are we gonna meet this mysterious lady?”
“It’s Wynter Snow, Ms. Pam,” YT supplies, grinning. “The rapper. She’s having her album release party tonight, or I’m sure she’d be here.”
“Does Nan like her?” Lala snickers. At the same time, Pam asks, “Well, why aren’t you there with her?!”
“Nan loves her! We all do!” Mars says. He takes a big gulp of punch before setting it down and playing peek-a-boo with Emir. I stand, and he takes my seat, so I can put Emir in his lap and take out my phone.
He freezes immediately, his eyes slowly turning to me.
“You got it, Mars. Breathe,” I chuckle, flicking up a few times. Glancing over my shoulder at the cooing hens, I tell them, “Nan told me she needed to talk to me, but every time I try to talk to her y’all pulling her every which way. Ain’t that right?”
Nan stops scrubbing a dish to suck her teeth at me.
“Sorry it’s so hard on you to spend time with the family,” she snaps. “Go on and meet me outside. I’ll be right out, Ricky.”
Jack, Emiko’s mother, chuckles before gingerly taking Emir from Mars. I hear Nan mumble some shit about Snow telling her I was uninvited anyway, but the rest of the women laugh too loud and abruptly for me to process it.
Outside, on the back deck, it’s much cooler than the house. A cough alerts me that I’m not alone, and when I turn to my left, Pooh is sitting on the bench, smoking a joint.
“My bad–”
“Nah, hijo. I’m just putting it out.” He stubs it on the bottom of his shoe, and against my better judgment, I take a seat next to him.
The air becomes awkward almost immediately, but Pooh is the first to fill it.
“This was Rone and Aree’s house, you know?”
I turn to him, already finding his eyes on me. “Yeah?”
“Yup. Last job Rone pulled, they bought this house. This the last place they all lived in as a family. It makes sense why Ty-Ty ended up buying it for his own family.”
“It’s nice as fuck. Out the way, too. Where he needs to be.”
“You gon’ buy my daughter-in-law a house like this? Make an honest woman out of her? I got your mother three carats, but that was before I was seeing real money.”
A corner of my mouth lifts. I don’t even have to close my eyes to see the engagement ring he’s talking about. “You in my business, but, yeah. Sooner than she thinks, she gon’ get the whole nine. Who knows? Maybe one day we’ll be taking our own Alvarez men pictures, if I don’t kill you first.”
Laughter bursts from him, making me grin back. We look just alike, especially with his hair cut low. Me in twenty years. How I even got comfortable enough to be sitting within five feet, I can’t even recall. Somewhere between Mars and Snow and almost losing Nan, we’ve gotten on near-even footing.
The back door slides open, and Pilar pops her head out. “They’re playing the Tamia song, Pooh! Let’s show them how it’s done!” She’s gone just as fast as she appeared, and when I turn back toward Pooh, he’s still looking where she was. Smitten is the only word I can use to describe him.
“You gon’ make her an honest woman?”
He stands, grabbing his empty cup and placing the roach in it. “First place we went to when I showed up on her doorstep is the courthouse.”
“And she went for that?”
He winks at me. “That Alvarez charm, son. Few could ever resist a real nigga.”
Pooh stops to let Nan outside, before going in and closing the door behind him. For a brief second I hear that damn song and my family arguing about the steps to the line dance.
“They gon’ twist they damn ankles in here,” Nan grumbles, before sitting down next to me. She’s moving slower, enough for me to notice, but I don’t say anything. I already told myself I’d make her go back to Belize after the holidays. The warmer climate is good for her.
“You ready to tell me whatever it is you need to?”
“Mhmm,” she grunts, twisting until she’s all the way back on the bench, so far back her feet don’t touch the ground. “I wanted to tell you a story.”
“A story, Nan?”
“Oh, don’t act like you got places to be. Part of the reason I’ve been giving you the runaround is so the doors can close for Snowball’s lil’ shindig. You really pissed her off.”
Of course. Niggas can’t even track down the last nigga on their kill list without some pushback.
Good thing I have Snow’s new elevator code, since she’s playing hardball.
“Anyways… okay. So, there was this boy. Charming boy. So charming that women were always giving him money. These women lived with him in his house, and it was known all in the city that he took care of his girls. So, one night, this one girl, beautiful girl, she went to the charming boy’s house with her little sister, and asked for work.
The charming boy thought she was too young for the type of work he did, even though he wasn’t much older than she was.
But he didn’t want to turn her away completely, so he brought the beautiful girl and her younger sister to his mother’s house, where they’d be safe.