Page 190 of Restless
Rebel tapped the screen. “Do you see CJ’s name?”
Jaleena nodded.
“It’s his allowance just because he’s Christopher and Megan Caldwell’s son. His debit card is directly tapped into my mother’s bank account.” Rebel snatched the phone away and held it out to CJ without looking at him. She grinned at Jaleena. “If it goes below a certain amount before his allowance is due, he gets more.”
“Is it wrong to say how hot you look, Reb?” Rory called.
CJ frowned.
“Yes, dickhead, it is,” Rebel barked. “I’m your fucking cousin—”
“Rebel, what did I tell you?”
“I didn’t sayonecuss word, Momma,” Rebel said defensively. “Rory made me do it.”
“I didn’t put the words in your mouth, Reb.”
“No, you just put perversion in your small little man-brain.”
“No, my son is responding exactly as a boy should,” Uncle Johnnie said flatly. “You are dressed in a suggestive manner and don’t expect attention?”
“I take it all back, Ro,” Rebel said sweetly, rolling her eyes. “You inherited your little man-brain from a little man-child.”
“I am your uncle, young lady.”
“Bad luck or cosmic joke,” Rebel retorted.
She was eating up that self-righteous motherfucker.
“Do you have anything to say for yourself, Christopher?” Uncle Johnnie demanded.
“Nope,” Dad answered. “Rebel handlin’ it just fine. If I need to step in and fuck you up, I will.”
“If it was Megan, you would’ve stepped in,” Uncle Johnnie said with disgust. “It is telling that you allow a child to disrespect me.”
“It’s telling how you continually engage with a child, Johnnie,” Mom said, losing her patience. “The entire conversation was between the kids. You didn’t have to say anything.”
Rebel spoke before Uncle Johnnie responded. “Jaleena, do you want to see the space my parents created for my siblings and me and our cousins and friends?”
“You’ve made your point, Rebel,” Jaleena snapped.
“Have I?”
“You have,” CJ inserted.
“Actually, I haven’t,” Rebel insisted.
“Actually, you have, baby girl,” Mom said. “We are still standing in the foyer. Digger has almost emptied my bowl of M&Ms. And I’m sure dinner is just about ready to be plated.”
“Motherfuckers good, Meggie,” Uncle Digger said.
“You ain’t platin’ dinner, are you, baby?” Dad asked.
“No, Christopher,” Mom answered. “But Iwouldlike to sit down.”
Panic crept into Dad’s eyes. “You not feelin’ good?”
Mom smiled at him. “I’m fine.”
