Page 5 of Mafia Kings & Wedding Rings
“Come on, let’s fix that. When we get back y’all, gon’ figure out this cleaning shit too. Cyra’s going back to Chicago.”
“Aw man, can’t we just hire somebody?” Saga pouted. “Ask Grandma Rossi if we can borrow her maid.”
“You been here a week and think you got it like that already?” I palmed the top of his head and nudged him into the hallway toward the garage.
It wasn’t a bad suggestion. I already knew leaving right now wasn’t an option. No matter how much resentment I harbored for my father, I couldn’t leave the rest of my family vulnerable like that to his enemies. It wasn’t right, and I would never forgive myself if something happened to them because I decided to take the easy way out. I was a Marek, there was no way around that. I didn’t have to live by my father’s rules any longer though. I could make my own.
“I’m just saying.” Saga shrugged. “We might as well take advantage while we here.”
“How would y’all feel if we stayed?” I asked.
Once I buckled Rogue in his booster seat, I noticed his wild, curly hair was all over his head. That was another thing. His mama knew how to do hair, yet she let him and his sisters sit around here looking crazy all day. Saga kept locs in his head, which was low-maintenance enough for him. He got his shit retwisted every two months, and they easily draped past his shoulders. Usually, he wore them down or in that barrel style, unless he was shooting hoops, then he pulled it into a manbun.
“You mean like live here?” Tavi questioned, leaning forward beside Piaget and Rogue with wide eyes.
Saga spun in the passenger seat to face me.
“We not going back to Chicago?” Piaget perked up.
“Your grandma and the rest of the family need us to stay. I might be taking over the family businesses and helping run things.”
“For real?” Saga’s eyes grew larger.
“I said I’m thinking about it,” I reminded them.
“I want to stay! I love this house!” Tavi squealed.
“Does that mean we get to ride the horses too?” Piaget asked.
“I’m sure somebody can teach you.”
“Yeah!” Rogue and Piaget screamed.
I made sure everybody was buckled up before opening the garage and backing out for our adventure to the grocery store. I knew I was in over my head and would instantly regret it, but it had to be done. I couldn’t sit around Cyra, or she was only going to bring out the worst in me. Bitch had no problem making up some false narrative to suit herself. Even when she didn’t know who I was, I did right by that bitch and made sure her nor my son wanted for shit. Now that she knew I had some real money behind me, the bitch was bound to be a problem I didn’t need, so she had to go. Now, the decision to stay or leave Oak Bluffs lingered in my brain.
Cambrie ‘Brie’ Rhodes
“Yeah, I’ll hold.” Annoyed, I grabbed the last bag of Chips Ahoy cookie off the shelf in understocked ass Mitchell’s, a local grocery chain in my hometown of Oak Bluffs, Kansas.
The aroma of chicken from the fryer in the deli an aisle over coated the air as the light above me flickered like it wanted to go out. I really didn’t need these cookies given that I was supposed to be on a cleanse this week, but discovering my unemployment check was short had me wanting to indulge. I swear, the minute I made the commitment to my diet, something would happen to throw me off my square and make me want to overload on trans fats. It was a comfort thing, and when I was younger it left me insecure because I wasn’t a small girl. I ate when things were tense or I was stressed the hell out.
“Hey, those are the last ones!” a small, squeaky, but perfectly enunciated voice addressed me.
Little gremlin-sized hands reached for the cookies in mine, and immediately, I swung around. The little boy came to my thigh, with wide-set brown eyes, a button nose, and the smoothest bronze skin. His mannerisms were like a little man. With thick curls wild all over his head, I could tell he had a goodgrade of hair. Standing there in khaki cargo shorts with a wife beater that had Kool-Aid stains on it, he was easily one of the cutest kids I’d ever seen.
“Ms. Rhodes, I have to transfer you to my supervisor so you can address the discrepancy in your unemployment payment.” The operator on the other line came back.
I was already agitated, but this little heathen had me fucked up!
“I have to call you back.” I rushed her off the phone and tucked it into the slot pocket of my beat-up college hoodie.
I looked about as good as I felt with navy tights underneath and a pair of gray and navy Adidas sneakers. I hadn’t taken the time to do anything to my hair lately, so it was pinned up messily in the back with my bangs hanging loose in front.
“Check this out, you little brazen brat, first come, first serve, and I grabbed them first!” I hissed, reaching for the cookies and snatching them back.
“You don’t even need no more cookies, that’s why yo’ booty big now.”
“And you look like Buckwheat. Leave me alone.” I gripped the pack of cookies tighter.
