Heavy waited until he was inside the building before he got into his truck. He’d showered and everything this morning at the shop when he got the tire changed to Maisie’s whip for Giselle. Now, he was going to stop and get some breakfast from his favorite cafe before heading back to start his workday. He didn’t want to leave Giselle hanging or wake her up, so he told his Pops not to disturb her and hoped he listened to him.
“This muhfucka! Where the hell you been?” Viggo, his twenty-year-old cousin, threw his hands up the minute Heavy stepped into the shop with his brown paper bag and cup of coffee.
He tipped the hot drink to his lips and swigged, cutting his eyes from his cousin as his father, Toussaint, emerged from the office with a clipboard tucked under his arm. His grandfather, Horace, wasn’t far behind. He’d stopped wearing that jumpsuit years ago and walked around in slacks and button up shirts like the boss he was. Although happily married for almost fifty something years, Horace and his wife, Petal, kept the spice in their relationship with constant shit talking. On the outside looking in, one might think they didn’t even like each other, but their family knew otherwise.
“It’s Thursday. I had to take Pierre to school. The fuck wrong with you?” he sneered, strolling past the waiting area toward the office.
“Your guest left,” Toussaint declared when his son brushed past him.
Pausing in the open doorway, images of last night immediately played in his head that he had to shake off. There was no denying that a good fucking time was had. One that he wasn’t likely to forget any time soon.
“I didn’t expect her to be here.” He moved toward his desk and set his things down before stepping behind it.
“Her?” Viggo repeated, dark locs swinging as he grinned and showed off his diamond grill. “Who? What I miss?”
“Nothing,” Heavy mumbled, side eyeing his father.
“Pssh, little fine ass petite thing.” Horace motioned with his hands the curves of a woman’s body and made a face. “Remi Knox’s niece.”
“No shit?” Viggo perked up, eyes wide with interest.
“She said to tell you thank you. I gotta go look at this Buick.” Toussaint pointed over his shoulder.
“Yeah, yeah. I want to hear more about this lil’ fine shit.”
“Don’t you got some work to do?” Heavy’s brow furrowed.
“That pretty girl got you tight, son!” Horace bit his fist and chuckled. “I came to get me some weed before I head over to the store. Which one of y’all got me?”
“Fuck out of here.” Heavy waved him off.
Viggo was suited up in his Sapien Automotive jumpsuit, but there wasn’t a stain on it, so he clearly hadn’t been working. He was a slacker on any given day, so Heavy never expected much from him. He came in when he wanted and left the same. He didn’t trip because his grandfather had always instilled in them to look out for each other. If Heavy called, Viggo would come; he just wasn’t reliable on a day to day. Much like Toussaint, the streets were constantly calling him. He slang his shit on the side and used the auto shop as a cover for all the flexing he went around doing with his cars and jewelry.
“Here, man.” Viggo pulled a sack of buds from his pocket and slipped them into the palm of Horace’s hand.
“That’s what I’m talking about. You got some cigars in your car?”
“Yo’ old ass need to be smoking joints,” Heavy told him.
“Fuck you, Heavy. Been smoking longer than you been born. I’m out.” Horace chucked the deuces on his way to the door.
“Anyway,” Viggo started once he was gone, “you know that bad bitch Sonya who runs that daycare a couple of blocks away?”
“What about her?” Heavy picked up a stack of mail and sifted through it.
“You know the block party is Saturday, and they still looking for a few sponsors for shit. I told her we would help her out. Just the moon bounce for the kids and the food. I need to take thischeck over to her today, though. I figured we could go half, say twenty-five hundred a piece?”
“Since when you so fucking generous?”
“Since her fine ass went and got that BBL.” Viggo licked his lips and snickered.
“Yeah. Write the check. I’ll send you the cash in a transfer,” Heavy instructed.
“Bet. You gotta show up too on Saturday because she wants to give this whole speech and thank us for our contribution and shit.”
“I’ll make an appearance, but I ain’t sticking around.” Heavy dropped into his chair and reached for his bag of breakfast.
“’Cause you a grumpy ass nigga.” Viggo shook his head.
