“Damn, I don’t even get a hello,” Kelvin joked, pulling out a knot of bills. He handed each of the kids a ten and rubbed Alisha’s head. “What you came to do, your usual?” he asked Rhonda sarcastically.

“Don’t be funny, Elton John,” she capped. “Let your sister hold something.”

Kelvin rolled his eyes, chuckling. “There you go.”

“What?”

“Rhonda, you stay hitting a nigga up for bread. The worst part is, I know you’re out here catching ’em.”

“What’re you talking about, Kel? I’m out here chilling.”

“Rhonda, you act like I don’t know True is back in town. Your freak ass probably already hit him off.”

“Forget you, Kel. You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Rhonda brushed him off. “So you gonna let me hold something or what?”

“What you need?”

“Like a hundred.”

“You bugging, I ain’t giving you no hundred dollars.”

“Come on, Kel. I gotta get the kids some sneakers.”

“Tell their fathers to get them some sneakers. I buy the kids stuff all the time.”

“A’ight, then let me hold fifty until I get my check,” she bargained.

“Here, man,” he handed her a bill, “don’t bother me no more.”

Rhonda kissed him on the cheek. “You know you love your sister.”

“Here come Rita,” Ms. Lulu said, pointing up the street.

Rhonda’s mother was walking up the block, carrying two shopping bags and a large purse. She bore a resemblance to Rhonda, but didn’t have her body and had Kelvin’s bronze skin. Her hair was cropped short on the sides and feathered on top. From behind her rimmed glasses, she examined Rhonda and Kelvin.

“What y’all doing, loitering on my stoop?” Rita asked.

“Ain’t nobody loitering, Ma. I was on my way out,” Kelvin said, joining his friend and heading toward their ride.

“Why we gotta be loitering? I brought your grandkids to see you.” Rhonda smiled.

Rita put her bags down and folded her arms. “Rhonda, you’re full of shit. I ain’t baby-sitting no kids. I just got off work and I’m tired as hell.”

“Ma, I never ask you to watch them. I need to run to Two-fifth right quick. I’ll even bring you something back.”

“Rhonda, I don’t need nothing, and you hardly ever ask me to watch the kids because you leave ’em anyway. I went through all that hell to get you and them kids out of my house for nothing, because you’re here all the time anyway.”

“The kids miss you, Ma,” Rhonda said, pushing P.J. toward his grandmother. “Just for an hour or two, Mommy.” Rhonda stepped off the curb and flagged a cab.

“Rhonda!”

“No more than two hours, Ma. I promise,” Rhonda called over her shoulder, climbing into the cab.