The Family Business

“Look at them, son. After all that’s happened, who would’ve thought they’d come together like this as a family? I guess the baby helped.... I still can’t believe London’s pregnant again.”


“I just hope its Harris’s baby,” I replied. “Because if that baby comes out with blue eyes and straight hair, we’re all gonna have to restrain Mr. Harris Grant from committing his second murder and killing your daughter.”

“Didn’t you just tell me to think positive thoughts?” LC shook his head, but I’m sure he was a lot more concerned about the parentage of his unborn grandchild than he wanted to admit. “Come on. Rio and Paris are finally here. Let’s take that family picture your mother wanted.”

We headed over toward my mother, who was handing out plates for the buffet.

“What about Junior?” I asked. “Aren’t we gonna wait for him?”

“No, your mother has him running some errand. He probably won’t be back until tonight.”

I peeked over at the old man, but he purposely avoided making eye contact. We both knew Junior would never miss Mariah’s party unless it was something important, and a simple errand wasn’t that important. My father was hiding something.

“Pop, is there something I should know?”

LC stopped abruptly, just far enough away so my mother couldn’t hear him. “Leave it alone, son. You know how she can get when she’s on a mission.”

I took his advice and dropped the subject. I loved my mother, but everyone knew she could be a real bitch if you got in the way of one of her motherly missions. If it concerned the family business, I’d find out about it soon enough.

My mother gathered everyone together for our photo, and the photographer began arranging everyone. Of course, Paris made sure she was in the middle—until Momma put a monkey wrench in her plans.

“London, I want you and Paris to switch places.”

“Huh? Why? I’m good right here, Ma,” Paris protested.

“No, you’re not. I said move.” My mother put a hand on Paris’s shoulder to nudge her out of the way.

“But why? She’s good right next to her husband.” Paris rolled her eyes in London’s direction. London just smiled and flicked her hand at Paris like she was shooing a fly out of the way. The more things change, the more they stay the same. These two had been going at it like this for years, and I sure didn’t see it ending anytime soon.

“Because your sister is pregnant, and I want all our family members present to be in the photo, including the baby in her belly. Now move, girl.”

Paris and Rio exchanged a glance, communicating something in that “twin telepathy” they seemed to have. He shrugged, and Paris turned to my father.

“Daddy, that’s not fair,” she whined.

As hard as he was in the streets, my father was like a puppy dog around Momma. It was obvious by now that Momma had an attitude, and when she gave the old man the eye, he folded like a tent. He’d just recently gotten out of the dog house for sending Rio out to California, so Paris was on her own with this one.

“Paris,” he said, “just do as your mother says. When you get pregnant, you can be in the front of the picture, okay?”

“When I get pregnant?” She laughed and gave Rio another look. This time she spoke to him out loud. “They just don’t know, do they?”

Rio winked at her. “Well, like I been sayin’, ain’t no better time than the present to drop the bomb and school ’em. Besides, you said you were gonna tell ’em today anyway.”

“Tell us what?” My father was starting to sound a little agitated.

Paris smirked at London as she lifted up her unusually loose sweater to expose a small, rounding belly. She rubbed it in a slow circle and announced, “I’m pregnant.”

“Oh, Paris, no.” My mother’s hand flew to her mouth. She shook her head in protest. The rest of us were stunned into silence.

Carl Weber with Eric Pete's books