“Fanks,” Justin squeals and runs off, calling for his mom and dad to see.
Danielle raises her arms up to me. I switch the flowers I’ve brought Mama T to my left hand to oblige the four-year-old, who sports a pink tutu over sparkly purple leggings. On her head, a beaded tiara is tilted to one side.
“Hey there, Princess.”
Dani squishes my face between her small hands and plants a sloppy kiss on my cheek.
“You’re furry.” She wrinkles her nose. “It tickles.” Then she’s onto something more important. I listen to her girly chatter about a Dora doll as we head to the kitchen.
It’s noisy and busy, and the delicious smell of a traditional Mexican brunch punctures the air. Mama T and Isabelle are at the counter garnishing a plate of huevos rancheros: fried eggs served on hot corn tortillas, smothered with cheese and salsa. James, Maria’s husband, is at the stove sautéing cubed potatoes with chili peppers. His apron reads: Kiss the Cook. Maria is bouncing Mason, their five-month-old, on her hip while setting the table with Dwayde. Victor’s making freshly brewed Mexican coffee, flavored with cinnamon and chocolate. That’s usually my job, but I’m late. And Gabi is cutting up fruit for the salad.
Everybody in Mama T’s kitchen is expected to help. It’s a familiar scene. The only thing that would make it complete would be if Cayo and Dee were here.
Conversations pause and everyone greets me with smiles and waves. I set Dani down. Maria ushers her and Justin out back and then turns to me with her evil eye.
“Twenty dollars, Mick. Really?” she scolds, shifting Mason into a more comfortable position. “Now Justin thinks the Tooth Fairy is cheap.”
“Free dollars is cheap,” I say winking at Maria, which earns me an attempted swat on the ass. I dodge it and make a beeline to Mama T.
I bend low to circle my arms around her thick middle. She smells like sugar cookies and the comforts of home. “How are you?” I ask.
“Every day gets a little better.” When we pull apart she peers at me and pleats her brow. “You look tired, Micah. Troubled.”
“Nah, I’m good,” I quickly lie.
“Humph. You think I don’t know when something is bothering one of my children?”
I catch Victor’s sideways glance and ignore his knowing look. We played nice for Dwayde yesterday, and we’ll do the same today for the rest of the family. But he’s still angry that I brought Dee back into our lives. The tension from it stretches between us like an elastic band about to snap.
“It’s nothing, Mama T.” I take that opportunity to present her with the bouquet of sunflowers.
“¡Gracias, mi hijo!” she says and brings them to her nose. “They’re so pretty. Isabelle, hand me a vase from the cabinet, so I can put them in water.”
Distraction accomplished, I leave Mama T to the task of arranging the flowers and make my rounds, kissing the women. When I get to James, he points to his apron and puckers up.
“Yeah, not gonna happen,” I say.
“What if I put on some lipstick?”
“That’s not sweetening the deal.”
We laugh and shake hands. James is a good man and treats Maria and the kids right.
I turn to Dwayde. “Hey.”
“Hey, Uncle Mick,” he answers, lacking his dimpled grin, worry sitting on his slumped shoulders.
“You and me,” I say, moving my index and middle fingers between us, “after brunch, a rematch. And prepare to bow to the new king.”
“Yeah, right.” He snorts. “The only chance you have of wearing a crown is if Dani lets you borrow her tiara.”
Everyone laughs at his quick comeback, and while he’s preening, I make my grab. He squirms and grunts, trash talking around his young boy giggles.
“Micah Anthony!” Mama T chastises me. “You know better than to wrestle in my kitchen.” But I hear the smile in her voice.
“You have your grandmother to thank for saving you, kid,” I say, letting him go.
“Yeah, right,” he retorts, getting in the last jab.
