“Lucky you, she’s a royal bitch,” Queen mumbled.
“Bitch,” Noah nodded and kept eating his French toast.
“Queen!” Delilah said.
“Sorry, Noah,” Queen rolled her eyes.
“Sorry,” Noah repeated.
“He sure does like you. Huh?” Queen asked.
“He’s my buddy,” Maverick said.
“Any plans to visit Mayfair to see your other buddy?” Queen asked.
“May-what?” Maverick frowned.
“Queen, don’t,” Delilah said.
“We both know he’s connected to Jaxon Price. Right? Jaxon Price and his little actor friend were the ones that told you about Noah? You got any plans to go up on the mountain and thank him?”
“I don’t know Jaxon Price,” Maverick replied. “I’m grateful to him. If he or Armand hadn’t come to my garage and told me about Noah, I would have never met my son. Maybe you can say thank you for me the next time you see him.”
Queen forked some more of her breakfast into her mouth and kept her eyes on Maverick. He tried to ignore the hostility, but Delilah didn’t make it any better. She just moved her eggs around on her plate and pretended not to hear accusations exchanged beneath the question.
“I have a friend out of the 40th Precinct in New York. Name is Robert Dailey. He’s part of the “100”. Do you know him?” Maverick gaze returned to Queen. She kept speaking as if the conversation was normal. But dropping Robert Dailey’s name on him was a targeted strike. What she implied stoked the inner rage in him. He wasn’t a racist. He had nothing to do with the accusations leveled against several cops at his precinct. But the stench and corruption were often tied to his ankles thanks to Robert Dailey.
“He sure does know your friends. Some of them you worked closely with. Said some interesting things about a few cases, too,” Queen said.
“Queen, stop,” Delilah said. “I don’t know where it’s going but stop.”
“Stop what? I’m just making conversation. The 100 is—”
“Not in front of Noah. Please,” Delilah said.
“It’s okay. I know the 100; it’s an advocacy group out of New York. It’s called ‘The 100 That Care’.”
“That’s right.” Queen smiled.
Maverick didn’t need rescuing. He could defend himself. Though what Lieutenant had possibly shared about his police record was pretty hard to defend to two black women. The 100 was made up of both retired and active policemen in the community. These men and women fought against injustices within the NYPD. Robert Daily had filed a civil complaint against two members of Maverick’s precinct over the wrongful death of a sixteen-year-old who died while in custody. The wall of silence around the officers was so thick there was little motivation by the union and department to bring the men down. They were taken out of field duty at first, but Robert Daily was not easily deterred. Maverick used the Lieutenant’s thirst for justice to his advantage. He gave up unknown facts about the case that led to the cops facing a grand jury and conviction. In return, he washed the blood from the hands of some members of his own team. He could have done more, but he was consumed with Melissa and her attempts to get pregnant to be focused on a noble cause. He just didn’t care about anyone or anything outside of the family he wanted to have with her. Maybe it would gain the trust he desperately needed if he explained the history to Queen. In his gut, he doubted sincerity or truth would be the winning card to play. So Maverick said nothing. Queen turned her anger on Delilah, who was so nervous she wasn’t eating at all. He didn’t understand the relationship between the women. If one was agitated, the other became more agitated, distrustful, even angry. Maybe the band had something to do with the information Armand had given. At ten years old, three friends shared a secret over the death of a school counselor.
“I have some news,” Delilah shared. She cleared her throat. “I’ve decided to go to the Women’s League Brunch tomorrow.”
Queen began to choke on her orange juice. Noah started to whine at seeing his aunt in distress. Queen covered her mouth and then swallowed some orange juice. “It’s okay, Noah. Auntie is fine,” Queen said. She shook her head and looked at Delilah with eyes stretched to almost a comical sense.
“Why would you go to that?” Queen asked.
“I’m not going to let them flush all of the good charitable work I’ve done in this town. Mother Abigail—.”
“Is setting you up. She created this scandal by going to the press. Telling her version of Charles and Tyson’s lies. You go there she and her crew are going to crucify you.”
“Well, thanks a lot,” Delilah said. “You act like I can’t defend myself.”
“I can watch Noah,” Maverick offered.
“What? You cool with that too?” Queen asked Delilah.
Delilah froze, unable to answer.
“At the very least, call your mother. Have her come over if you insist on this crazy idea. I don’t understand why you keep kissing their ass, Dee. That family has done nothing but been evil to you since Charles died and even before. And now you’re kissing his ass too!” She tossed her head in the direction of Maverick. “What is wrong with you?”
“Queen, I said that’s enough. I want to talk to you. Now!” Delilah pushed back from the chair. She stormed out of the dining room area.
“After she and I are done. You and I need to talk.” Queen said through clenched teeth to Maverick.
“I look forward to it,” Maverick replied.
Queen pushed up from the table and went after her friend. “Eat!” Noah shouted after his mother and aunt. The kid had finished a slice all by himself through their absence, and Maverick smiled with pride. He added more to Noah's plate. He put syrup on it, and Noah smeared it all over the toast with his fingers.
“Now it’s perfect,” Maverick said. Noah picked up a slice like a sandwich and started eating. Maverick pulled over the highchair. Noah looked at the thing as if it were a kid trap ready to spring and gobble him up.
“Why don’t we try sitting in it today? See if we like it?” he asked Noah.
Noah looked up at his father and then to the chair. He ate his French toast while glaring at the chair. Maverick lifted the tray and positioned it down to the side. Noah stopped chewing. He could feel his little body stiffen. Maverick was quick to sit him in the chair. He fastened him inside of it even quicker. Immediately Maverick put more French toast on the tray and poured syrup all over it. Noah blinked at the mess through his tears. He looked at Maverick with a tantrum, ready to explode.
“Go on, your mom won’t care. Eat, eat,” Maverick said.
Noah first cried. He bucked and tried to escape his imprisonment. Maverick dropped his face on the tray and gobbled up the toast making grunting noises like a pig. Noah stopped crying and again stared at him curiously. He laughed. Maverick did it twice more. Noah kicked his feet and laughed too. Maverick added more French toast. Noah dropped the one piece of bread in his hands and smeared the syrup all over his tray. He started to lick his fingers and then eat the sloppy mess. “See, buddy, I get you. I do. You’re a rebel like me. No one can hold a rebel down. This here is your Harley. Only for you.”