I smack my hand over my mouth to stop the laugh that bubbles out of me.
He lifts his head and glares at me, his thunderous expression making me take a step back as I try to collect myself. “What?” he demands.
“I don’t know,” I say, my lips still twitching with amusement. “It’s just funny, you know? You’re this big scary gangster, but you’re afraid of your tiny little mother.”
“I’m not scared of her,” he growls.
“Okay,” I say. “I believe you.”
“She brought us into this world,” he says. “She can take us out. And she never misses an opportunity to remind us.”
I’ve heard that saying before, but it’s a little hard to take it seriously when it comes to Valeria. She loves her sons way too much for me to think she’d ever inflict serious harm on them. Just the thought has me holding back laughter again.
Maddox’s thick, dark brows draw together in fury. “That’s funny to you?”
“I mean, not that she’d ‘take you out,’” I say, stifling laughter again. “That’s dead serious.”
“I’m going to fucking kill Lennox,” Maddox fumes, turning back to the door and banging his fist on it like there’s someone inside to answer.
“Come on, I’m not laughing at you,” I say, stepping in and touching his elbow. “It’s not a bad thing. It’s funny in a cute way.”
“Funny in a cute way?” he asks incredulously.
“Yeah,” I say. “It shows how much you love and respect your mom. It’s sweet.”
“Of course I fucking love my mother,” he snaps. “What do you think I am, some kind of heartless animal?”
I draw back. “Of course not. I don’t think that at all.”
He stares at me a second and then turns away from the door. “Well, maybe you should.”
Before I can answer, he starts down the driveway. I hesitate a moment, then jog after him. He crosses the street and bangs on Reggie’s door, ignoring the bell. A little girl opens the door and stares out at us. She’s in a dress and pigtails with giant clear beads in the elastics. She chomps on her gum and stares up at Maddox. “Can I help you?” she asks, her voice full of sass.
“Get out of the door, loser,” snaps another voice, and a girl who looks about twelve appears behind her. When she sees Maddox, she instantly transforms from annoyed big sister to sex kitten, batting her lashes and smirking up at him, leaning against the door frame in a provocative pose.
“Oh, hey, neighbor,” she says, toying with her choker and pushing her chest out to make her boobs strain against her tight baby tee. “You come to borrow some sugar?”
Maddox chuckles at her antics. “I got plenty of sugar at home, Selma,” he says. “Is Reggie in?”
“He might be,” the girl says. “But what are you going to do for me?”
“Keep telling the Crows you’re too young to join,” Maddox says. “Trust me, you’ll thank me someday.”
She pouts up at him, but Reggie appears behind her before she can argue. “Hey, what’s up?” Reggie asks, swinging the door wider.
They do their handshake, and Maddox asks if he’s heard about any business that needs attending to. Reggie shrugs. “Haven’t heard anything. Dad’s at work, and I have to go in later, but y’all can hang out here until he gets home.”
Maddox and I sit on the top step, and Reggie takes the porch swing, along with Selma, who brings out four beers and slips onto the seat beside her brother. He swipes the beer from her hand when she tries to open it, setting it down out of her reach on his end of the swing. “Don’t be in such a hurry to grow up,” he says. “You’ve seen what shit it got me in.”
He and Maddox share a cigarette and talk about crew business while I watch the street, waiting for the El Camino to pull up. When we finish our beers, Selma crosses her arms and refuses to get more, since they’re not letting her have any.
“Go get us somepolas, would you?” Maddox asks me, stretching his leg across the concrete step to nudge my leg with the toe of his running shoe.
I think about being annoyed that he’s ordering me around like usual, but I need to use the bathroom after the beer, and I’ve had enough of peeing in yards for this year. “Sure,” I say, standing and brushing off the seat of my running shorts. “Bathroom?”
“End of the hall,” Reggie says, picking up his cigarettes again. “Beer’s in the fridge, bottom drawer.”
The house is dark inside except for the TV, where the little girl who opened the door is watchingThe Simpsonswith a big, bony dog. I go do my business and grab three beers, then pause when Selma’s voice drifts in through the screen door.