“You all ruffled some major feathers with the Reynolds fix last year. The man whose life you obliterated to save the career of that coke-addicted, B-level actor friend of yours was connected to some important people, and those are feathers I can’t smooth for you this time which means that there’s trouble coming.”
“We can handle our own heat, Joseph,” Dad replies plainly.
“What kind of trouble are you talking about?” Mom asks, shifting uncomfortably in her seat, no doubt thinking about all the times my Dad's life has been threatened over the years.
“The kind we haven’t had to deal with for a long time. With these people, everyone is a target and they play dirty. We are not a secret to them. We are exposed.”
My mom and aunts all look shook by this news, but my father and uncles don’t show the same signs of concern if they're worried. All that I can see on their faces is determination and strength.
Grandpa Joe continues, “We’ve built an enormous world for ourselves which I’ve spent most of my adult life laying the foundation for. We have investments that pay dividends which can keep us all comfortable for the rest of our lives. So why are we here, boys? Why am I dealing with this kind of nonsense at this stage in my life?”
“You’re not dealing with it, we will,” Dad assures him again.
“You didn’t even know that you were in trouble, Roman. So, yeah, I think I am dealing with this shit too.”
“Okay, what you’re not going to do is talk to us like we’re fucking children,” Uncle Cutter stands and says, grounding his pointer finger into the table to emphasize his stance. “It was our fix and so we’ll handle the heat just like Rome said. Why you had to bring the kids into this–“
“I brought the kids into this because they are not children anymore. They are fair game and they have the right to know. You think the people you’ve fucked over give a shit that they are our children and we love them? It only makes them bigger targets. Wake up.”
The room is thick with a kind of tension between my family members that I've never seen before.
“The old man is right,” Dad says, making an abrupt about face.
Uncle Camden mumbles something under his breath in defiance of that declaration, but from what I know about my Uncle and Grandpop, one could say the sky was dark and the other would most assuredly say that it’s light. They’re like oil and water. They just don’t mix well.
“What we do is not a game and our kids need to stay alert and look out for each other in a way that they never have before,” Dad says, specifically looking at Uncle Camden when he does.
“That’s it,” Aunt Jade slams her palm against the table. “Gigi, needs to move home.”
My brother, Seven, asks the question I’ve been dying to ask since I walked in the door. “Where is Gigi?”
“Evidently, my brother and his wife did something to piss my niece off, so she refused to come tonight,” Uncle Cutter explains.
“Yo, was this meeting optional?” my other brother Bronx inappropriately blurts out.
I realize he's trying to be funny, but this is not the right time for Bronx’s irreverent sense of humor. The mood is too tense. My mom motions for him to quiet down as if he were still ten-years-old. I’m going to have a long talk with my brothers after tonight.
“You can’t keep an eye on her all the way down on South Street when we live up here,” Pop Joe says. “Tell her to come home temporarily.”
“And if she refuses to listen?” Aunt Jade says. “It was never a good idea in the first place for her to move so far from us and now she’s being defiant.”
“Why does she have to move home?” Grandma J asks. “She just moved out on her own not that long ago and she has nothing to do with this.”
“If what Joseph is saying is true than Gigi has everything to do with this,” Aunt Jade says. “She’s Camden King’s daughter.”
My Aunt Sloan props her elbow on the table and cocks her head to the side to ask Aunt Jade a question that she probably shouldn’t have. “Since when did you, the tough-as-nails, around-the-way girl become like this?”
“Like what?”
“You’re being super scary. We own the apartment building that Gigi lives in. Cutter handpicked that apartment himself because of its safe location and even if he didn’t, Gigi is a grown woman. When are you going to stop treating her like a little girl?”
“When you start minding your own damn business for once,” Aunt Jade retorts.
Aunt Sloan gives Aunt Jade the middle finger, which she decides not to address once Uncle Cam lays his hand on her thigh to quiet the raging mama bear inside of her.
“How do you think they’ll come at us, Joe?” Uncle Stone interrupts, who’s always the one with the least amount to say, but also the one everyone listens to when he decides to talk.
“They’ll be smart about it. They don’t get their hands dirty. They hire people to make a point.”
