Page 22 of Deuce

I kissed my teeth. “Ain’t nobody in trouble, woman. We’ve been coolin’ it today.”

“Mmm hmm. Y’all hungry? I just made lunch.”

“We ate on the way over here. But I’ma take a plate to go.”

“Speak for yourself,” Mace said. “Whatchu got, Ma?”

“Like it matters to you, Maceo.”

He laughed. “You right.”

“Come on in the kitchen.”

Mace’s fat ass didn’t waste any time following behind her. He was the typical skinny nigga with a high metabolism. He could eat whatever he wanted and never gain a pound. He was lucky because if it were for that, he’d never be able to unbig his back.

I sat at the island while my mama fixed him a plate.

“You handicapped?” I asked. “My mama ain’t yo’ servant.”

“Stop it, Stanley,” Mama chastised. “Mace is my baby, and I don’t mind fixing his plate.” She set a plate of birria tacos, rice, and beans in front of him and kissed his cheek. “Here you go, sweetheart.”

“Thank you, Ma.”

He smirked as he looked down at his plate. Being the asshole I am, I kicked the stool out from under him as we went to sit. Lucky for him, he was able to catch himself.

“Nigga!”

“Stanley!” my mama snapped at me. “Apologize!”

It was my turn to smirk. “My bad, my foot slipped.”

“Don’t make me beat your ass in front of your mama.”

“Nobody is beating anybody’s ass. Maceo, eat your food. Stanley, leave him alone. I swear, sometimes it’s like you two are still children.”

I waved her off. “It’s all love, Mama.”

She rolled her eyes and went back to fixing her own plate.

“So…. This bust last night. Was that y’all?”

I frowned. “I thought you didn’t like discussing work with me?”

“I don’t. That was just a sad case. Those poor babies. I can’t imagine what them and their parents went through.”

“Yeah, it was sad.”

I didn’t say anything else. Whenever she decided to talk about work with me, it always ended with her asking how long I planned to do this shit. She’d love nothing more than for me to settle down and give her some grandchildren. I kept telling her I didn’t have to get married for her to be a grandma.

That always earned me a slap to the back of the head. She didn’t want me out here making babies with multiple women like my father. I always felt like she regretted the time she wasted on him. They were never married, and she never got married after him.

Sure, she dated, but Pops made it a habit of vetting every nigga that came her way. When I was old enough, that was my job. Did I want her to be happy? Yes. Did she date anybody worthy of her? Hell naw. Not to mention there were plenty of people that would love to get at me through her. Before I let a nigga hurt her, I’d fill his chest with bullets and send the body to his own damn mama.

“What’s on your mind, Stanley?” she asked, noticing how quiet I’d gotten.

Mace snickered. “Probably ol’ girl that wouldn’t give him her number.”

My mother smiled. “So, you met a woman that doesn’t fall at your feet?”

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