“I guess,” I say reluctantly, not at all convinced that it wouldn’t be gratifying to have people in my life who thought I was worth something. But hey, I earned Piper’s flaky reputation all on my own. The only way to shake it is to do better, to be better. Maybe Scott can teach me how it’s done.
Scott
To the absolute depths of my soul, I’m sick of this shit. Getting the call from Alejandro who suggests I come to remove my mother from a situation described to me as no bueno was like taking a baseball bat to the gut.
As soon as I saw his name flashing on the screen of my phone, I knew it could only be very bad news. Though it hasn’t always been that way. As my Tío Javier’s best friend, Alejandro was at our house a lot while I was growing up. Javier and Alejandro used to carry me on their shoulders, hell, they used to toss me between them for fun. Both of my uncles, one by blood and one by adoption, were larger than life for a kid with no dad and an inattentive mother.
Sadly, after the drive-by, my grandmother didn’t want Alejandro hanging around anymore. She didn’t want me influenced by the world her murdered son had made his life in, a world of easy money and casual violence. And rightly so. Association with Los Santos del Diablo ultimately ends in one of only two ways, death or imprisonment.
Nowadays, Alejandro is the furthest thing from a man you want to get involved with. He’s led Los Santos with an iron fist for the last five years; he’s watchful, cunning, and deadly.
I haven’t seen him in six months or so, not since the last time he called me to come get my mother from some dive bar up in Oakland. It was humiliating then, and even more so now because I have to do it in front of Ellie . . . Ellie, who tries to put a positive spin on everything. For all her self-confidence, she sure can be naïve. At least I appreciate her ability to roll with changing circumstances. She hasn’t complained once.
It’s busy tonight so I’m sure that parking is going to be a bitch, but I get lucky almost immediately when I catch sight of a couple getting into their car. After waiting impatiently for them to leave, I angrily accelerate into the parking spot and turn the truck off.
In the sudden muffled quiet, she says, “You want me to wait here?”
Her calm, unruffled attitude has my stress level coming down a few notches. Considering her offer, I check out our surroundings. There are plenty of people around, including a group of guys coming down the sidewalk. The same visceral rejection I had to the idea of sending her home by herself hits me again. Not fucking happening. She stays with me no matter how embarrassing this gets.
“No, we stick together.”
Her eyebrows hitch up slightly with what I’m guessing is surprise. “Okay, lead the way.”
After hiking a few blocks, we turn a corner and immediately I know we’ve found the right place. Down a side street, there are a couple of black Escalades illegally parked outside of a bar whose front doors are open. Light and music spill out onto the sidewalk where men mill around at even intervals. And by men, I mean Saints, and by mill, I mean patrol. Jesus. I reach for Ellie’s hand. “Stay close, all right?”
I can see my mother and Alejandro sitting together on a bench out front, but as we approach, we’re intercepted by a scary-ass dude with his gang tattoos clearly visible on his forearms. It takes a second, but I realize I know this guy. I haven’t seen him in years though.
“I’m just here to get my mom, Niner,” I say, lifting my chin to where she’s sitting.
Niner takes me in from head to toe, suspicion blaring. I almost laugh as the suspicion turns to disbelief. “Scotty? Puta madre, when did you grow up?” Not giving me a chance to say anything, he turns to Alejandro. “Ey, Jefe. What the fuck, right?” He gestures to me. I’ve known Niner as long as I have Alejandro, which is to say, my entire life. He looks me up and down again, probably because I top him by a good five inches. “¿Qué te da de comer la abuela, papi?”
Scoffing, I don’t bother telling him I’m sure what my grandmother is feeding me has nothing to do with my height.
“And who do we have here?” he then asks, making a show of perusing Ellie suggestively. My good humor vanishes and I’m about to tell Niner to remove his fucking old-man eyes from her when Alejandro intervenes.
“Ignore him, Scotty, and get over here.”
He gets up to greet me, pulling me into a hug, forcing me to let go of Ellie’s hand.
“How you been?”
I briefly scan my mother who ignores my presence by keeping her drooping gaze fixed on the double parked SUV. “Fine.” It comes out sullenly. “You?”
He lifts a shoulder noncommittally. “You know how it is.” He looks older than I remember. The grey in his full beard has spread and the lines around his eyes are more firmly etched. “How’s my goddaughter?” He means Daniela and my attitude softens.
“She’s good,” I say, wondering how much detail he’s looking for. His curious expression has me adding more. “Finishing second grade soon. She’s not a big fan of school work.”
This has him flashing his teeth. “Takes after her old man. You got any pictures?”
“Yeah, sure.” I pull out my phone, open the app, and hand it to him. While he’s going through the pics, I make sure Ellie’s okay. She’s leaning against the side of the building a couple yards away. I give her a questioning look, and she answers with an encouraging nod to tell me she’s fine.
Alejandro pulls my attention back. “This your daughter?” He shows me the screen.
“Yeah.”
“She’s growing up fast.”
Despite the strain of the situation, I smile. “She is.”
“And this?” He points to Carmen. “This Robbie’s kid?”
My mood plummets. “Yeah,” I say stonily. Robbie, or Roberto, is my mother’s husband and Carmen and Mari’s father. He’s currently doing eight-to-fifteen for knocking over a liquor store with an assault rifle.
“You’re a good man, Scotty,” he says. “Taking on all this responsibility can’t be easy.” When he claps me on the back, I resist the urge to shove him away from me. None of this is his fault. In fact, Alejandro is one of the few people who helps me out from time to time. Occasionally, I’ll find an envelope of cash on my windshield to help pay for anything Daniela needs. “I heard what you did for that no-good nephew of mine, too.” He means Jorgie. “I want you to call me if you ever need anything, okay?”
When I don’t nod, he adds, “En serio. You’re probably the only guy I know who deserves good things in life.” His eyes wander to Ellie and then he smirks at me. “¿Quién es la chula?” Who’s the girl?
My entire body stiffens. “Nadie importante,” I bite out even if an unsettling note of dishonesty vibrates down my spine. I push the feeling away. She isn’t important, not in the way he’s suggesting. “It’s late,” I say, hoping to bring this to an end. “Ma, ya vámonos.”
She turns a hazy expression on me as I reach for her hand to pull her up. I’m beyond grateful that it seems like she’ll be able to walk on her own.
“Gracias, Tío,” I say as we clasp hands and hug awkwardly because I need to keep a grip on my mother’s elbow.