“What’d you buy?” Cici asked, plucking at the plastic. “A jacket? Don’t a fool like you know it’s too hot for wearing a jacket this time a year? We live in New Orleans.”
He ignored her and walked over to Shorty D, wishing he’d left Cici at home. But he’d been afraid she’d go out again. She’d start talking about DJing again last night. Had called her girls—sissy bounce rappers and DJs—asking about the clubs needing talent.
“Tre?”
He turned to find Alicia standing behind him, dodging other shoppers as they chased squealing kids stampeding toward the train.
Something inside him sank, even as his heart skipped a beat. He hadn’t thought she’d actually come to the mall. He wasn’t ready for her to see the real him. To see Cici. To see him in the role he sometimes resented.
He wanted to be the man he’d been under that Pontchartrain moon, when his lips moved hungrily over Alicia’s. When he’d felt like a man, and not a babysitter with Kenzie’s snot on his sleeve.
“Hey, what’s up?” he said, rubbing his sleeve against the back of his pants and grabbing the phone from Shorty D, who shouted, “Hey!” Tre handed the phone to Cici.
“You didn’t answer your text. Can’t believe I found you—it’s crowded this afternoon,” she said, dropping her hands onto the knees of her tight jeans and smiling at Kenzie. “Hey, Kenzie. You remember me? You going to come play with me on Monday?”
Kenzie didn’t stop sucking on her fingers, but the little girl’s dark eyes studied Alicia who turned to Shorty D. “And who’s this handsome man?”
Shorty D rolled his shoulders and stood, intentionally letting his jeans bag. He slid a worldly gaze over Alicia’s shiny hair, ruby-glossed lips and green jacket and inclined his head. “Shorty D. What up?”
Alicia turned to Tre with laughing eyes. All he could do was shrug. Shorty D was Shorty D. “His name is Devontay, but we call him Shorty D ’cause he’s cool like that.”
Shorty D grinned and gave him skin. It made Alicia laugh. Which made Tre’s heart clinch up. He really loved the way she laughed. Loved the way her eyes danced and her hair curved at her collarbone.
Cici sidled up. “Who you?”
Tre shot his aunt the look—the one that said shut up—but Cici didn’t get no messages ever. She did what she wanted to do and always had. Big Mama had shed many a tear over Cici. Tre refused to hope the woman would change, but he couldn’t ignore her this time. “Cici, this is Alicia Laurence. She works at the school we takin’ Kenzie to on Monday.”
“She don’t look like no teacher,” Cici said, her black eyes greedily drinking in Alicia’s clothes, nails and extensions. Jealousy flamed before she looked away.
“Well, actually I’m working on my certification. My aunt’s the director of the school, and all the teachers there are certified. I’m working as an aide. It’s a wonderful school, and I know Kenzie will like being around the other children.”
“She don’t like other kids.”
Tre saw Alicia look at Cici, who held herself defensively, petulantly, like Shorty D when he didn’t get the kind of cereal he wanted, and he saw the dawning in Alicia’s eyes, and for a moment, the pity.
Something hot flooded him. He knew it to be shame. If he was Alicia looking at him with his ragtag crew of snot-nosed kids and cranky former addict, he’d run the other way.
But Alicia remained, her gaze finally catching his. She reached for his hand. “You all done here?”
“No, we ain’t done. I still gotta get my shoes,” Shorty D said, walking toward the Foot Locker, not bothering to wait on anyone else.
Tre made a face. “Almost. I still got things to get, then we going to visit Big Mama. It’s bingo night at the nursing home and I told her we’d stop by.”
“I’m good at bingo,” Alicia said.
Tre kept one eye on Shorty D and scooped Kenzie off the mall bench. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. I think we can all fit in my car.”
Cici finally gave Alicia some attention. “You got a car?”
Alicia nodded. “I’ll give you a ride, if you want. I’ve been wanting to meet Tre’s grandmother.”
He hadn’t even told her much about Big Mama and she wanted to meet her? What did that mean?
Alicia was like dark glass—he couldn’t see inside her—yet he liked the mystery about her. She surprised him. Just like on that bus, giving him her number, giving that gift to