“Hey!” Kenny said, stepping into his arms. “How’s it going?”
“Good. Your boss man here?”
“He’s just finishing up. You can go back. He’s doing a cover up for Eddie.”
“Oh, Eddie’s here?” Rafe laughed. Monica’s other nephew was the comedian of the family. If he was tagging along tonight, Rafe knew they were in for a good time.
“Yeah, Eddie’s here!” he heard his young cousin yell. Marcus responded just as fast.
“Man, stop fucking moving.”
Rafe laughed, giving Kendy a light squeeze on the shoulder. “I’ll just head back.”
“Good idea.” Marcus’s artists tattooed at stations scattered around the main shop floor, but he had a private studio in the rear. He owned the place, so of course the biggest space was his, and he was known for his large-scale black and grey pieces. The larger room gave his clients space to spread out and a better sense of privacy when they had to strip off half of their clothes. Rafe came around the corner and, sure enough, there was Marcus tattooing the right side of Eddie’s chest.
“Well, if it isn’t Rafael Whitcomb,” Eddie said, doing his best impression of a White guy with a stick up his ass. “You son of a gun. How the hell are you?”
“Shut the fuck up, Eddie,” Rafe laughed. Almost twenty years of rolling together and Eddie was exactly the same. Sometimes the guy didn’t know when to quit, but Rafe wouldn’t have it any other way.
When he and his dad crossed into L.A. county with their truck loaded down with all their shit, both personal possessions and a hell of a lot of emotional baggage, they moved into a mostly brown neighborhood. Rafe knew there was a good chance he was going to spend the rest of his teen years getting his ass kicked or getting into trouble, and he’d only been half wrong. Meeting his next-door neighbor Hector had been a blessing and a curse. Hector took Rafe under his wing. Taught him how to break into and hotwire your standard Honda Civic. It was all fun and games until they got busted and sent to Camp Kilgore.
When they got out and Rafe’s dad showed up with Monica, Rafe knew his life of crime was over, whether he felt like he still had something to prove or not. Three thousand miles from the streets he knew, Joe leaned on Monica for help. With Hector’s mom’s blessing, Monica’s older nephews sat Rafe and Hector down, and issued an ultimatum. They could all stay friends if they listened to Marcus. Marcus and his friends were cool as fuck, but they all had real plans focusing on trades that would give them the lives they wanted. For Marcus, it was taking over ownership of this shop. Marcus gave it to Rafe straight. He could keep being a stupid little motherfucker and then find himself on the other side eighteen, being charged as an adult for boosting cars or dead for boosting the wrong car. Or, he could surround himself with people who weren’t fuck ups and try to do better with his life.
Rafe was still all fucked up with teen rage that he didn’t understand how to unpack, but he agreed to stop spending his free time running the streets. When he wasn’t watching Hope and Grace, Monica let him hang out with Marcus, his little brother Eddie and their buddies, Nick and Andres, brothers who were training to take over their father’s custom auto shop. Neither Rafe nor Hector could draw for shit, so following in Marcus’s footsteps were out of the question, but they loved learning everything they could about cars from Andres. As Rafe got deeper and deeper into child care, Hector earned an apprenticeship at South Bay Street Customs and now he was the general manager, helping the brothers expand to a second location in Las Vegas.
“Hector’s gonna fight you,” Eddie said.
“Oh yeah,” Marcus added. “He’s gonna fuck you up.”
“Why?”
“You got a new nanny gig?”
“Yeah.” Rafe looked between them confused, like they’d hadn’t been paying attention for the last seventeen years. “It’s what I do.”
“I saw Monica and she said you were leaving the Mary Poppins life behind.”
“I was thinking about it, but—”
“Oh my god, Hector! Stop!” Kendy’s screech melted into a giggle just as Rafe heard the bathroom door slam open. Rafe stuck his head out of the door and sure enough, his buddy was strolling across the shop, winking at Kendy. He turned to Rafe and immediately dropped his smile.
“You bitch ass bitch.”
“What? What the fuck is wrong with you? Why are you so bent out of shape?” Rafe said. Hector’s hostile greeting didn’t stop Rafe’s old friend from walking across the room and giving Rafe a one-armed clap on the back.
“Carlo got sent up again.” Their friend Carlo had not been a part of Monica’s ultimatum.
“Jesus Christ. He wants all three strikes. Dumbass. Three months in juvie fucking cured my ass.”
“Nick said the same thing.”
“Where is Nick? I thought he was coming.”
“He’ll be here in a minute. He had to drop Junior off at Val’s.”
“What’s going on there?” Rafe asked. His friend and his ex deserved their own reality show.
“Same shit. They hate each other and can’t stop fucking each other. I’m waiting for another Junior to pop up any day now.”
