Read Online Random Family: Love, Drugs, Trouble, and Coming of Age in the Bro by Adrian Nicole LeBlanc - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Adrian Nicole LeBlanc
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new girl every day. “It was never the same-old with Coco,” Cesar said. “She was adventurous.” Cesar wasn’t ashamed to introduce her to his friends. Once, Cesar brought a friend to Dorcas’s mother’s apartment for Dorcas, but the friend wasn’t interested. “She was too fat,” Coco said, andDorcas’s clothes were stained and worn-out. So Coco outfitted Dorcas in new clothes that Foxy had brought home from the Rainbow Shop. Coco’s generosity exasperated Foxy—perhaps because it was a flaw they shared. Then Cesar found a fat friend for the spruced-up Dorcas, and everything worked out.
A few months after Coco and Cesar got together, after kissing throughout one early-winter afternoon, Cesar announced, “Coco, I want to take you somewhere.”
“Where?” she asked.
“I want you to meet my moms.”
It was a big moment. Coco had never been in Cesar’s mother’s house. Cesar had not spoken much about his family.
On University, Cesar flagged down a livery cab. They climbed in. Off they went, sinking into the cushiony backseat for the bumpy ride to the east end of Tremont Avenue.
Lourdes placed her hands on her hips and raised one eyebrow as she scrutinized the short girl who sat beside her Cesar on his queen-size bed. The weight of Lourdes’s beeper made the string of her apron sag. There had been plenty of girls in and out of this bedroom, but she could tell that her baby cared for this one: he’d tucked a picture of Coco in the edge of his mirror. The girl’s feet were swinging. They didn’t even touch the floor.
In the silence that followed Cesar’s introduction—“Ma, I want you to meet my girl”—Coco noticed that Cesar had inherited his mother’s bubble lips. “From all the girlfriends he brung here, from all the girls you seem like you okay, you a nice person,” Lourdes intoned. “But let me tell you, I’m going to tell you one thing. One thing I don’t like about you.” The darkness of Lourdes’s eyes emphasized the paleness of her skin. She wore her waist-length black hair in a single braid. The lady knew how to make a pause count for something.
“How you going to say you don’t like me, for you just met me?” Coco asked sincerely.
Lourdes ignored her and continued, “That eyeliner, it’s got to go. It don’t go with your eyes.” She paused again. “To be honest with you, baby, it looks like shit.” The insult was a gesture of inclusion. “What’s your sign?” Lourdes added solemnly.
“Sagittarius,” said Coco.
“No wonder! Cuz I’m a Sagittarius!” Lourdes exclaimed. With that exchange, Lourdes and Coco became coconspirators on the subject ofCesar, whom they both loved. Lourdes found a fresh audience for her old stories, and Coco, just coming up, found a veteran guide for the bewildering turns her life was about to take.
Jessica, who was also home the day Coco met Lourdes, was the most beautiful girl Coco had ever seen: light-skinned, with dead hair like a white girl’s, the bangs and feathered edges blown forward like a commercial for shampoo. She also had a perfect body: a big butt without a stomach, nice breasts, and nails polished by a manicurist in a beauty salon. Her wide smile was like Cesar’s—sexy—crowded with those same white, even teeth. She smelled like a rich girl—not of the sharp scents you got at the dollar store, but of a name-brand perfume. She was friendly, which surprised Coco, because a girl with all that could have been a snob. Even across the room, the way Jessica spoke felt pressed up close. The day they met, she wore thigh-high black leather boots with pointy toes.
“You could kill mad roaches with those boots,” Cesar said.
“Right?” Jessica said, her laughter breathing out like a sleepy joke.
Jessica tried to chat with Coco, but Cesar kept interrupting, and he finally closed the bedroom door. “I don’t want you and Jessica hanging out,” Cesar told Coco. Cesar liked Coco exactly the way she was. Jessica was an
A few months after Coco and Cesar got together, after kissing throughout one early-winter afternoon, Cesar announced, “Coco, I want to take you somewhere.”
“Where?” she asked.
“I want you to meet my moms.”
It was a big moment. Coco had never been in Cesar’s mother’s house. Cesar had not spoken much about his family.
On University, Cesar flagged down a livery cab. They climbed in. Off they went, sinking into the cushiony backseat for the bumpy ride to the east end of Tremont Avenue.
Lourdes placed her hands on her hips and raised one eyebrow as she scrutinized the short girl who sat beside her Cesar on his queen-size bed. The weight of Lourdes’s beeper made the string of her apron sag. There had been plenty of girls in and out of this bedroom, but she could tell that her baby cared for this one: he’d tucked a picture of Coco in the edge of his mirror. The girl’s feet were swinging. They didn’t even touch the floor.
In the silence that followed Cesar’s introduction—“Ma, I want you to meet my girl”—Coco noticed that Cesar had inherited his mother’s bubble lips. “From all the girlfriends he brung here, from all the girls you seem like you okay, you a nice person,” Lourdes intoned. “But let me tell you, I’m going to tell you one thing. One thing I don’t like about you.” The darkness of Lourdes’s eyes emphasized the paleness of her skin. She wore her waist-length black hair in a single braid. The lady knew how to make a pause count for something.
“How you going to say you don’t like me, for you just met me?” Coco asked sincerely.
Lourdes ignored her and continued, “That eyeliner, it’s got to go. It don’t go with your eyes.” She paused again. “To be honest with you, baby, it looks like shit.” The insult was a gesture of inclusion. “What’s your sign?” Lourdes added solemnly.
“Sagittarius,” said Coco.
“No wonder! Cuz I’m a Sagittarius!” Lourdes exclaimed. With that exchange, Lourdes and Coco became coconspirators on the subject ofCesar, whom they both loved. Lourdes found a fresh audience for her old stories, and Coco, just coming up, found a veteran guide for the bewildering turns her life was about to take.
Jessica, who was also home the day Coco met Lourdes, was the most beautiful girl Coco had ever seen: light-skinned, with dead hair like a white girl’s, the bangs and feathered edges blown forward like a commercial for shampoo. She also had a perfect body: a big butt without a stomach, nice breasts, and nails polished by a manicurist in a beauty salon. Her wide smile was like Cesar’s—sexy—crowded with those same white, even teeth. She smelled like a rich girl—not of the sharp scents you got at the dollar store, but of a name-brand perfume. She was friendly, which surprised Coco, because a girl with all that could have been a snob. Even across the room, the way Jessica spoke felt pressed up close. The day they met, she wore thigh-high black leather boots with pointy toes.
“You could kill mad roaches with those boots,” Cesar said.
“Right?” Jessica said, her laughter breathing out like a sleepy joke.
Jessica tried to chat with Coco, but Cesar kept interrupting, and he finally closed the bedroom door. “I don’t want you and Jessica hanging out,” Cesar told Coco. Cesar liked Coco exactly the way she was. Jessica was an
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