“Dexter.”
“Dickta,” she muttered.
I chuckled. “That’s good enough, baby doll.” I kissed her cheek again. “Happy Birthday.”
“Uh oh.” She held up her finger and a tiny bit of banana was still on it. She shook her head. “No.” Then, she smeared it on my palm.
“Thanks,” I grumbled, looking around for a napkin.
She lifted her hand and attempted to wave at me, but it looked more like she was throwing up a gang sign. “Bye, Bye.” I took that as my cue that she was done with me, so, I put her down.
Blake walked over, munching on some chips. “I guess she told you, brotha. Gave you her nasty leftovers and ran away.” She cracked up. “I might be able to teach her a few things.”
“No, I think she meant to give it to you.” I dropped the soggy banana in her bowl right on top of the chip I knew she was saving ‘til last and snatched her napkin out of her hand. My sister was very particular about how she ate her food and where she ate. She rarely mixed food, hated buffets, and liked to save the best for last.
Blake screeched, “Fuck!”
“Blake!” My mother motioned to the little girl currently staring at Blake. “Little ears. And run me my money.”
“I guess she told you,” I mocked.
“I wanted that chip.” Blake smacked me and whispered under her breath, “muthafucka.”
Wrapping my arm around her, I kissed her temple. “I love you too.”
Blake finally acknowledged her little admirer. “Can I help you?” she asked the little girl.
“Are you a bitch?” the girl asked. “My dad said only bitches hit people.”
I cracked up at the blush that worked its way up my usually unflappable and unbothered sister.
Blake glared at me, then asked the girl, “Who’s your daddy, baby? Is he here?”
“My name is Pilar,” the girl corrected. “Not baby.”
My sister took a deep breath. “Okay, Pilar. Where’s your father?”
“My Mommie said he couldn’t come to this party because…” She blew out a deep breath and bit into an iced pretzel. “…hoes would be here.”
“Whose kid is this?” Blake asked loudly. “Somebody come get this lil’ girl.”
A woman rushed over, apologizing profusely, before she whisked the very inquisitive and a-little-too-grown-for-her-age cutie pie away.
Blake stared after the little girl with an annoyed look on her face. “Who the fuck is that?” she grumbled. “I told Bliss about bringing home strays. See this?” She signed the letter “E”.
“E? Why are we speaking sign language now?”
“Because E is for,” she gestured to the whole room, “everybody can get it. The mamas, the daddies, these little bad-ass kids, and you.”
Duke walked over with Charlye. “Look who I found. Had to save her from being accosted by a few of the little boys,” Duke explained. “These kids are bad as hell. This little girl is over there singing Meg the Stallion?”
Blake folded her arms over her chest. “A little thot in the making.” She grinned at Charlye. “Hey, girl.”
Charlye laughed and gave Blake a hug. “You’re so wrong for that.” They hugged. She looked at me. “Hi.”
I hugged her. “Hey.” I hadn’t expected to see her there. The last couple of weeks, she’d been hanging with her mom, helping her box up Julia’s things. And I knew she was leaving for Hawaii tomorrow to spread Julia’s ashes.
Blake narrowed her eyes. “Whatever you do, steer clear of that Lil’ Pilar and her big-ass mouth.” Needless to say, my sister wasn’t a “kid” person. She only liked the kids in the family.
