Page 18 of Coast

“I cared enoughnotto throw a game for you. Life is hard. It’s harder when prejudices exist. You don’t sit around and wait for someone to give you something, or you’ll have nothing. If you work and get things on your own, they have more value to you.”

“I’m talking one game of checkers. One hand of cards. Not prejudices and life. Christ knows I’ve dealt with enough of them—it only fueled me to work harder.”

“And you felt better because you achieved the things on your own, Emery.”

I blew out a breath. “Tell me we did not have this...” I waved my hand around “...life altering conversation...because I did shit around here for you. Seriously?” I ran my hand down my face, then looked back at Kiyaya. His expression told me I was right.

“I like doing for myself. Just as you do.”

“You might as well get over it. I’ll be back in a few weeks with a couple of my brothers to fix the roof and replace the damn windows.”

“I don’t need you to fix those things for me.”

“Goddammit, you got no business on a roof, and you sure as shit can’t yank those old ass windows out by yourself. Sue me for loving you enough to not want it to rain on your head inside your house. Or for you to freeze to death because the windows can’t keep the cold from entering.”

Kiyaya stared at me and said, “Átawit, love, you, Emery.” Then he started walking away. “Let me get my coat, and I’ll go to the store with you. If I don’t, you will buy the wrong stuff.”

“You crusty old Indian,” I said to his back as he headed into his bedroom.

“Pain in the ass half breed,” he yelled over his shoulder.

I snorted. “You know that shit isn’t politically correct, right? If anyone else called me that, I kicked their ass,” I said and grabbed my jacket off the back of the chair and pulled it on.

“Eh, I’m too old to care what others think. And like the checkers, you’ll not win against me,” he answered as he walked back in the room with his coat on.

Shaking my head and chuckling, I went to the door and opened it. “Come on. Let’s get the shopping done and get back so we can play more checkers, I’m feeling lucky today.”

“Eh, you gonna need more than luck,” Kiyaya said as he passed by me and headed for his truck.

I got in the driver’s side and started the truck, then pulled out onto the road. I glanced over at Kiyaya, who was looking out the window. I focused back on the road and thought about how unhappy I was when I received Suni’s call. It came at an inconvenient time because I was ready to make my move with Mac. But after spending the time with Kiyaya, minus the arguments, I was glad I’d made the trip. There’d be plenty of time to spend with Mac, which I planned to start as soon as I pulled back into town tomorrow. She and I had danced around each other long enough.

“Idon’t need all thatfood,” Kiyaya said as I placed the bags in the back of the pickup.

“Four bags is not a lot of food. It’s mostly can soups and easy things for you to heat up while you are recuperating. You’re just mad because I refused to let you pay.”

“I have money.”

I counted to ten in my head because I knew it was hard for him to accept help. But for fuck’s sake, we’re family. “I know that. I also know you are on a fixed income. So this month you have a little extra left to spend on yourself.”

“I don’t want you wasting all your money on me. You need to save so you can support a family one day.”

“If I couldn’t afford to do it, I wouldn’t. I’ve got enough money. Besides, maybe I’ll find me a sugar momma.” I grinned, thinking what Mackenzie would say if she heard me say that.

“Hmm...you better start looking then. You’re not getting any younger,áswan, boy.”

“I might surprise you and bring a woman with me when I come back,” I said jokingly, but the thought stuck. I wondered what it would take to get Mac to come with me and what she would think if she did?

“You know we haven’t stolen women for over a hundred and seventy-five years,” Kiyaya replied, then laughed as he opened the passenger side door.

“I’m hurt you think I’d have to steal a woman. For all you know, I could have ten hidden away,” I said after I opened the other door.

“Why they hidden? Are they ugly?”

“I can’t win with you. Get in the truck and let’s go home,” I said as I prepared to get into the vehicle. I stopped when I noticed the woman approaching on the sidewalk in front of us. “Ma’am!” She turned when I yelled.

“Yes.” She stopped walking.

“You’re the social worker who was at the clinic with the two boys?” I asked.

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