‘Don’t talk with your mouth full,’ Corinne admonishes. ‘You’re spraying crumbs everywhere.’
‘I’m not,’ Shanice says.
‘No, you’re doing good,’ Corinne says. Then, with a sideways glance at Billy: ‘Doing well.’
Derek has no interest in grammar. ‘But tell me one thing. Is there blood in it?’
Billy thinks of Bob Raines, flying backward. He thinks of his sister with all her ribs broken – yes, every fucking one – and her chest stomped in. ‘Nope, no blood.’ He takes a bite of his cookie.
Shanice reaches for another. ‘You can have that one,’ her mother says, ‘and one more. You too, D. The rest are for Mr Lockridge and for later. You know your dad likes these.’ To Billy she says, ‘Jamal works six days a week and overtime when he can get it. The Fazios are good about keeping track of these two while we’re both at work. This is not a bad neighborhood, but we’ve got our eye on something better.’
‘Movin on up,’ Billy says.
Corinne laughs and nods.
‘I don’t ever want to move,’ Shanice says, then adds with a child’s charming dignity: ‘I have friends.’
‘So do I,’ Derek says. ‘Hey, Mr Lockridge, do you know how to play Monopoly? Me’n Shan are going to play, but it’s stupid with just two and Mom won’t.’
‘Mom won’t is right,’ Corinne says. ‘Most boring game in the world. Get your father to play with you tonight. He will, if he’s not too tired.’
‘That’s hours away,’ Derek says. ‘I’m bored right now.’
‘Me too,’ Shanice says. ‘If I had a phone, I could play Crossy Road.’
‘Next year,’ Corinne says, and rolls her eyes in a way that makes Billy think the girl has been phone-campaigning for quite a while. Maybe since the age of five.
‘Do you play?’ Derek asks, although without much hope.
‘I do,’ Billy says, then leans across the table, pinning Derek Ackerman with his eyes. ‘But I have to warn you that I’m good. And I play to win.’
‘So do I!’ Derek is smiling below a milk mustache.
‘So do I!’ Shanice says.
‘I wouldn’t hold back just because you’re kids and I’m a grownup,’ Billy says. ‘I’d wound you with my rental properties, then kill you with my hotels. If we’re going to play, you have to know that up front.’
‘Okay!’ Derek says, jumping up and almost spilling the rest of his milk.
‘Okay!’ Shanice cries, also jumping up.
‘Are you kids going to cry when I win?’
‘No!’
‘No!’
‘Okay. As long as we have that straight.’
‘Are you sure?’ Corinne asks him. ‘That game, I swear it can go on all day.’
‘Not with me rolling the dice,’ Billy says.
‘We play downstairs,’ Shanice says, and once more takes his hand.
The room down there is the same size as the one in Billy’s house, but it’s only half a man-cave. In that part, Jamal has set up a work space with tools pegged to the wall. There’s also a bandsaw, and Billy notes with approval that there’s a padlocked cover over the on/off switch. The kids’ half of the room is littered with toys and coloring books. There’s a small TV hooked up to a cheap game console that uses cassettes. To Billy it looks like a yardsale purchase. Board games are stacked against one wall. Derek takes the Monopoly box and puts the board on a child-sized table.
‘Mr Lockridge is too big for our chairs,’ Shanice says, sounding dismayed.
‘I’ll sit on the floor.’ Billy removes one of the chairs and does so. There’s just room for his crossed legs under the table.
‘Which piece you want?’ Derek asks. ‘I usually take the racing car when it’s just me ’n Shan, but you can have it if you want.’
‘That’s okay. Which one do you like, Shan?’
‘The thimble,’ she says. Then adds, rather grudgingly, ‘Unless you want it.’
Billy takes the top hat. The game begins. Forty minutes later, when Derek’s turn comes around again, he calls for his mother. ‘Ma! I need advice!’
Corinne comes down the stairs and stands with her hands on her hips, surveying the board and the distribution of Monopoly money. ‘I don’t want to say you kids are in trouble, but you kids are in trouble.’
‘I warned them,’ Billy says.