Page 146 of The Best Shot

Annie’s whole face softened. “Aww. Pop Pop.”

“Please don’t make that face,” her cousin said. “I’m in uniform.”

“Fuck you.” She lifted her middle finger, but her smile wobbled. “Thanks for coming.”

“I came because I was working.”

“Thanks anyway.”

“Not enough. You still owe me.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What do you want?”

His smile came slow, and suddenly he looked a lot more like Annie. “Mama’s been trying to get somebody to sit with her at the missionary breakfast.”

“No.”

“You’re taking my spot.”

“I said, no.”

He reached for the notepad in his pocket. “Now, let me think. Is grand theft auto a felony?”

“Darryl.”

“Is it five to ten, or fifteen to twenty?”

“You don’t know?”

“Bet Aunt Maggie does.”

Annie stared at him hard enough to blister paint.

He clicked his pen.

“Fine,” she said.

“What was that?”

“I said I would be honored to attend the missionary breakfast with Auntie Nella.”

“Thought so.” He tucked the notepad away. “Six a.m. Wear something modest.”

Annie glared at him. “Go to hell, Officer Darryl.”

I’d spent the whole night managing her. It hadn’t once occurred to me that she came with people who’d been managing her a lot longer.

A grandfather who’d already lied on her behalf, an aunt on the phone, and a cousin collecting payment in church attendance.

Must be something.

He smiled, then turned to me.

“Appreciate you stepping in,” he said. “Could’ve gotten uglier.”

I looked toward Shaun, standing across the lot, still holding the rag to his mouth.

“Got ugly enough.”