The meatloaf Candace had brought over was baking in the oven, which was working for a change. The dishes were washed and put away, thanks to Carol. Hakeem, all clean and dry, was drifting off to sleep in his mother's arms. And the open window was blowing in a nice, fresh-smelling breeze from the laundry hanging on the clothesline outside.

Best of all, Jamal and Andre were at Vacation Bible School ("to stud-deeeee God's whooooo-leeeee worrrrrd..." 36 little Jesus warriors shout-sang) for three hours a day for the next two weeks. They'd been out of school for four days and they were already getting on Cookie's nerves.

That left Cookie with just Hakeem in the daytime, now nine months old and the subject of Jamal's never-ending ire. "You love him more than you love me!" Jamal pouted that morning, angry because Hakeem got to stay up late with Mommy and Jamal didn't. Cookie took Jamal in her arms - just as she had done with Andre when Jamal was born – and explained, as she had over and over, that she loved all three of her sons equally. "Love isn't like a cup of sugar, Jamal," Carol explained to her teary-eyed nephew. "It's not something you can run out of. It's just that Hakeem is a little baby and he needs a lot more help and attention. Hakeem isn't a big boy like you are."

Jamal nodded and stomped off, as disbelieving as Andre had been when Jamal was born. Normally, Cookie would've been more sympathetic to her sensitive middle child, especially being a middle child herself. Today, Cookie was too exhausted to be understanding. And while she was grateful to her sisters for coming over to help with the household chores, the flip side was that Cookie had to deal with her sisters while they helped with the household chores.

"Jamal's just too damn babyfied," Candace observed once Lucious left to take the boys to camp. Like most of her childless advice, Candace's thoughts were unwelcome and unsolicited. "That's what happens when you breastfeed for too long. Watch and see." Candace gestured to Hakeem. "He's gonna be spoiled as hell."

"I can't spoil him. He's a baby," Cookie pointed out. "And you know good and hell well that I breastfed Andre and Jamal until they weaned themselves, and I'ma do the same thing for Hakeem."

"Yeah, but they were weaned way before nine months," Carol said. "You're gonna have to take Hakeem to kindergarten with him still hanging on to your nipple, talkin' about 'he ain't been weaned yet.'"

"Ha, ha, ha. Y'all just wake me up when the food is ready." Cookie's sisters often teased her for being an old, married woman at the age of 25 - especially Candace's over-educated, bougie ass. But they were there to help, Cookie reminded herself, crawling into bed with her youngest son in her arms. Ultimately, that was what mattered most.

It felt like Cookie had only been asleep for a few minutes when the doorbell rang, though it had really been over two hours. "I ain't here!" she yelled to her sisters, which woke Hakeem. "Shh, shh," Cookie soothed, pulling down the top of her dress and putting Hakeem's head back to her breast. "Everything's okay, little boy." Hakeem, as trusting in his mother as her other sons, accepted this truth. His eyes began to droop almost immediately, and so did Cookie's.

"Cookie?" Candace popped her head in the bedroom. "Sorry, sis, but some kid is at the door asking for you. He says it's an emergency."

"An emergency?" Had something happened to one of her sons, or to Lucious? Cookie rose from the bed and grabbed her robe. "Take him, Candace." The moment he left his mother's arms, Hakeem began to scream and scream. Shit! Cookie had no choice but to take her son from Candace and pop her nipple back into Hakeem's mouth as she rushed to the door.

Cookie's fear turned to irritation when she saw the scrawny, wide-eyed kid Spanish kid at the door. "Oh. It's you." She'd been expecting him. "Ricky Ree-carrrrrd-oh," she said slowly, knowing full well that the kid's name was Raul. "I see you asked about me."

Ever since Lucious and Cookie moved their three kids into the south Philadelphia neighborhood they lived in now, Lucious was, without question, the boss. And since Lucious was king, that made Cookie queen of the ghetto. Most of the men in the neighborhood referred to their girlfriends as my wife, but Cookie was one of the few who held the title by law. That made her special. In their neighborhood (along with a few neighboring ones) Cookie never stood in any line or waited for any table. Nobody parked their cars in front of their home or in their driveway, even though Cookie and Lucious didn't own a car. Neighborhood boys carried her groceries home, then nearly broke their necks running away when Cookie tried to tip them.

There were plenty of jealous women in the neighborhood, but the day Cookie pistol whipped a bitch at a strip club for claiming she sucked Lucious's dick turned Cookie into a neighborhood legend. The fact that Cookie didn't know if it was true or not didn't really matter. She was Mrs. Lucious Lyon. If anybody was fucking her man, they better keep their mouths shut about it. Men were far more respectful to Cookie. Many of them were too afraid to even look Cookie in the eye for fear of being perceived as flirting with her. "Did you know that's my wife?" was the most dangerous question that Lucious could ask, and the answers were always high-pitched and effusive.

"Man, I didn't know that was your wife!"
"Swear to God I didn't know that was your wife, Lucious!"
"That's your wife, man? Oh, shit..."

This was certainly why little Juan Valdez was interrupting Cookie's much-needed down time. Earlier that morning, Cookie had been walking home from the grocery store when a rowdy group of boys ran past her, chasing an errant ball that was seconds away from rolling into a gutter. Cookie wasn't one for getting upset at boys being boys, especially when most of them turned around and apologized immediately. But one boy – this sandy-haired Spanish brat now standing before her – failed to pay respect. "Man, we lost our ball!" The boy turned to Cookie and thrust his finger right in her face. "You owe us $5!" he shouted.

The gasps from the boys were audible. Cookie's hand, which was already in her purse, clenched the money she was about to hand to the boys to replace their ball, even though she knew that they wouldn't take it. One of the boys slapped him upside the head. "That's Lucious Lyon's wife, fool! Say you're sorry!"

Either this kid was new to the community or he was trying to impress his friends. "That puta cost us our ball!"

"Come on, Raul!" Another neighborhood kid named Bobby practically shoved Raul to the ground. "Apologize, man! Do you know who that is!? That's Lucious Lyon's wife!"

"So?" Raul shot back. "Man, fuck Lucious Lyon." He stomped right up into Cookie's face. "And fuck his bitch!"

Cookie didn't blame the other boys for Raul's behavior, but that didn't stop them from disowning the new kid. "We don't know him, Miz Lyon!" they yelled as they ran away, blurs of black and brown bodies flying up the street. "He ain't one of us! He ain't with us!" Raul laughed loudly as they ran away, then turned back to Cookie, kissed his hand and grabbed his balls, laughing as he walked away.

Now this little bastard had the nerve to come to Cookie shaking like a leaf. Either someone had set him straight or he'd done his homework. At least this cucaracha had the good sense to try to get to Cookie before Lucious heard what happened. That didn't mean Cookie was going to make things easy for him. "Whatchu want, boy?" she drawled, as if she didn't know exactly why this kid had tracked her down.

"Who's this, Cookie?" Candace appeared over Cookie's shoulder. "You one of Andre's friends? He won't be back until around three-thirty."

"Nah, this ain't Andre's friend – or at least I hope not." Cookie turned and faced her sisters. "You remember I told you about that little mutt who bumped into me this morning? Talkin' about how I owe him a ball."

"Yeah, I remember." Carol tilted her chin in Raul's direction. "This him?"

"Yeah, that's him. Little Speedy Gonzales here."

"Uh...huh." Candace nodded slowly. "I guess you just found out who she is, huh? Or rather, who her husband is"

"Oh, he knew who I was." Cookie stepped out onto the porch, and Raul shrank back. "The other boys told him that Lucious is my husband. And you know what he said, Candace?"

"What he say, sis?" Carol asked, as if Cookie hadn't already told her everything when she came home earlier that day. Candace, on the other head, had yet to hear what had happened.

"He said 'fuck Lucious Lyon'. And he called me a bitch." Raul looked down at his shoes. "And then he grabbed his dick and walked off."

Candace gave a slow whistle. "You better say goodbye to your cojones, boy. Cuz Lucious is gonna cram 'em down your throat when he finds out what you said."

While Raul contemplated the loss of his testicles, Hakeem began to whimper. Cookie shifted Hakeem from her right breast to her left. "Why you here?" Cookie snapped. "You see I'm feeding my baby." That gave Cookie an idea. "You lookin' at my titties?"

The boy's eyes grew wide. "N-n-no. No, señora. I-I wasn't looking."

Carol and Cookie locked eyes, then Cookie and Candace. It was time to have some fun. "I think he's lookin' at your titties, sis," Carol agreed.

"Why you look' at her titties, boy?" Candace demanded, knowing full well that he wasn't. "That's a married woman, you know that?"

"No! No, I'm not!" Raul insisted. "I-I-I no looking! Yo promiso..."

"You callin' me a liar?" Cookie interrupted.

"N-no! No, señora! I didn't mean-"

"Did you just call my sister a liar?" Candace jumped in.

"No! No, please! Please...no!" Raul said over and over. "I'm not-I mean, you're not-"

"A liar," Carol said. "My sister here ain't no liar, right?"

"Right!" Raul's head bobbed up and down, up and down.

"So you are lookin' at my sister's titties, huh?" The sisters were struggling not to crack up.

"Wait-no. No!" Raul was frantic, looking from sister to sister for help, but finding none. "No, no miro, no miro!"

"Why?" Cookie pretended to be insulted. "You don't like my titties?"

"I don't believe you no way," Carol added. "You damn near grown and you tellin' me you ain't looking at titties?"

"Maybe he's gay," Candace suggested. "I mean, look at his shorts. That's easy access right there."

Carol nodded. "Shorts like that definitely mean back door entrance."

Poor Raul looked like he was about to faint. He leaned against the screen door to hold himself up, and it was obvious that he was trying not to cry. "Get your dirty ass off my door!" Cookie shouted, and the boy stood up straight again. Finally, Cookie took pity on the poor kid. "Nah, for real," she prompted when Carol and Candace finally pulled themselves together. "Whatchu want, Pablo?"

The boy answered in a stream of Spanish. "Ayo. Yo, yo, yo!" Cookie interrupted. "We speak-a English around this bitch. Start over!"

"I s-s-sorry I c-c-call you a bitch." Raul stammered, breathing so hard that he was in danger of passing out on the front porch.

"And what else?" Cookie demanded, quite amused at this little bastard's kowtowing.

"I-I'm sorry for running into you..."

"And what else?" Raul's eyes filled with tears as Hakeem began to whine again. "Nuh-uh, don't bitch up on us now!" Carol took over while Cookie struggled to get Hakeem a better latch.

"Yeah, lil' niño. You knew plenty of English when you were calling her a bitch, so you better find the words...to..." Candace's voice trailed off, and the silence made Cookie look up.

Lucious was home.

He was with Bunkie and Vernon, who were both expected for lunch. Vernon was taller and Bunkie was bigger, but Lucious cut a figure that was as powerful as it was handsome. Standing behind a terrified Raul, he looked that much more intimidating.

"What's up, Carol?" Lucious asked leisurely. "Hey, Candace. Didn't know you were coming by. You staying for lunch?"

Mutely, Candace nodded, and the sisters stepped back to let the men into the house. Lucious stopped short before going inside, fixing his eyes on the pale, quivering teenager standing at the door. "What's going on?" The tone of Lucious's voice didn't lean to just curiosity. "What do you want with my wife? Is something wrong with one of my boys?"

"Baby, I told Pedro here that he could come over and get some money to replace his ball that I accidentally knocked into the gutter this morning." Cookie flashed Lucious her sweetest smile and prayed that he didn't overthink things. After all, she'd told Lucious that she was going to the grocery store just that morning. Why would Cookie have gone shopping with no money?

A pause. Then Lucious flashed Raul a wide smile. "Oh! No problem, mayne." Lucious clapped Raul on the back and gave Cookie a kiss on the cheek. "Lemme go get my wallet, baby. Be right back, Pancho," he called over his shoulder.

Alone again on the porch with just her sisters as witnesses, Cookie grabbed Raul by the collar, jerked him inside the house and slammed him against the wall so hard that the pictures rattled. "Listen here, you little spic," Cookie hissed. "You don't call no woman a bitch. Not me, not ya mama, not any woman. Got it?" Raul nodded vigorously, his eyes pooling with water. "Now get the fuck out of my house before my husband splits your head open."

Cookie slung Raul through the door, and he fell flat on his ass into the dirt. Cookie stepped back, ready to slam the door and get this kid out of their neighborhood and home safe to his mother. But Lucious came back into the living room quicker than Cookie expected. "Hey, where'd he go?" Cookie could only watch helplessly as Lucious walked back outside. "Hey! Hey, kid! Where you goin'?"

Raul was already at the mailbox, ready to run clean up the street. He stood frozen as Lucious walked out into the yard. The women followed behind nervously. Lucious opened his wallet and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill. "Here you go. Go get yourself the best ball you can find."

Raul looked over at Cookie, who had joined her husband in the yard along with everybody else. She said nothing. Neither did Carol. Neither did Candace. "Das...das okay," Raul stammered. "I-I can...I can get my ball..."

"Nah, it's cool. Here." Lucious reached back into his wallet and pulled out another twenty. "Get all the balls you want...maybe some gloves, too..." He pulled out yet another twenty. "And some pizza and ice cream for you and your friends." Still, Raul didn't move. Lucious looked around at the puzzled looks on the face of the men. "What's this?" he laughed. "You kids don't like money anymore?"

The silence was deafening, the mood suffocating. "Take the money, kid," Vernon ordered quietly.

Raul reached out and tried to accept the dollar bills, but his hands were shaking too hard and the money fluttered to the ground. What's with him? Lucious mouthed to Cookie while Raul scooped the money up, looking like a panhandler. Irritated that Raul had originally rejected Lucious's money, he decided to have a little fun of his own. "You lookin' at my wife's titties?" he asked.

"I think he's lookin' at your wife's titties," Vernon chimed in, ready to keep the joke going.

Raul sprang to his feet, tripped, and didn't get back up. "No! No, no! Please, por favor!" He shook his head furiously, his eyes filled with terror. "I no looking! No miro, no miro! Please, señor..."

"Cut it out, Lucious," Cookie ordered. It wasn't funny anymore. None of this was funny anymore. Maybe it never was.

"You ain't lookin' at no titties?" Bunkie asked Raul dubiously. "Why, you a faggot?"

"Gotta be a faggot," Vernon agreed. "Look at little Julio's shorts, man."

"I said stop it!" Cookie yelled. "Shut up, all of you!"

The men were too amused with themselves to see the liquid spreading across the front of Raul's much-maligned shorts, trickling down his shaking legs as he finally got back to his feet. "A'ight, a'ight! I'm just playin' witchu, mayne." Lucious clapped Raul on the back again and smiled. "G'on. Have a good weekend. Don't eat too much, okay?"

"Si-si, señor . Gracias-gra-thank you. Th-th-thank you, señor!" Lucious, Vernon and Bunkie held it together until Raul was out of the yard, then broke into laughter. "What a weird-ass kid!" Bunkie quipped. "Th-th-thank you, señor!" Vernon imitated, making Lucious and Bunkie laugh even harder.

"I said stop it!" Now Cookie was the one shaking. "Lucious, I mean it! Here, take your son." Cookie thrust Hakeem into Lucious's arms, ignoring the confused look on her husband's face. Quickly, Cookie shuffled her feet until the puddle of piss in the dirt was covered up and made her way back into the house, her sisters walking behind her.

Lucious shrugged and walked to the garage with Hakeem, greeting Jamal and Andre as they raced into the yard, full of stories from camp. Carol walked ahead of Cookie to get the meatloaf ready for sandwiches, and Candace walked to the back of the house to get the last of the clothes from the line. Still standing in the yard, Cookie looked down the sidewalk. She could see the back of Raul's red shirt as it disappeared into the streets. Raul hadn't been thankful for the money and the Holloway sisters knew it. Now, as the streak of red grew smaller and smaller, Cookie had a sinking feeling that Lucious knew it, too.

Perhaps Cookie would've been less humble and more obnoxious as the neighborhood queen had it not been for Trevor Bennett, an older boy who lived in Bunkie's neighborhood before Cookie and Lucious moved to his side of town. Nobody knew what the hell Trevor was thinking when he told everybody who would listen that he, not Lucious, had taken Cookie's virginity, that he was still hitting it whenever he wanted to, and that Cookie not only sucked dick, but swallowed as well.

The plan was for Bunkie to find Trevor and beat his ass – not because anybody believed what he was saying, but just on general principle. Cookie was his cousin, after all. But Bunkie made the mistake of taking Lucious with him. Beating Trevor's ass was one thing, but Lucious was wild with rage. The cheers turned to screams when Lucious pulled out his pistol, jerked Trevor on his back by his shirt collar, and shoved the barrel of the gun into Trevor's mouth. The air soon filled with cries for mercy. "Don't do it, Lucious!" "Lucious, no! Don't kill him!"

Lucious took the gun out of Trevor's mouth and stood over him with death in his eyes, pointing the barrel straight at his head. "Lucious, Lucious, Lucious." Bunkie dared to step forward and put his hand on Lucious's. His entire body was shaking – not from fear, but from anger. "Lucious, gimme the gun, man. Time to go home." The look in Lucious's eyes was terrifying, even to a man as big as Bunkie was. "Time to go home to Cookie."

Hearing Cookie's name seemed to snap Lucious out of it. Still shaking, Lucious allowed Bunkie to take the blood-stained gun away from him. He crouched beside Trevor. "Nigga, you don't know a Cookie, you ain't never seen a Cookie...shit, you don't even eat cookies. You hear me, mothafucka?" Somehow, Trevor managed to nod. "If I ever hear about you talking about my wife again..."

There was no need to finish the threat. Lucious casually stood up and pulled out his penis. The air filled with gasps as Trevor nearly drowned in piss – he was injured too badly to turn his head or put up his hands. Satisfied that his point had been made, Lucious lifted his leg and stomped on Trevor's head for good measure, then calmly stepped over his body and walked away, leaving Trevor to die or not die – either one was fine with him.

"Maaaaaan, that nigga got pissed on!" The raucous laughter at Lucious's back filled the air. "He pissed on that nigga's face!" And Piss Face was Trevor's name right up until he put the barrel of his own gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger three weeks later.

Lucious often said that Cookie gave Trevor too much thought. Here she was, over a decade later, still thinking about him. Lucious wouldn't be happy to know that Cookie was thinking about Trevor instead of listening to her sons tell about their day at Bible camp. "...shall not commit adultery, not admit adultery," Lucious was correcting Andre over meatloaf sandwiches, corn-on-the-cob and green beans. "Hell, even I follow that one."

"You better follow that one, being married to her." Vernon pointed his fork towards Cookie, who mustered up a smile.

"Although if you do commit adultery, you better not admit it," Bunkie added. He'd knocked out two sandwiches and was polishing off a third ear of corn.

"What's adultery?" Jamal piped up through a mouthful of corn. Lucious snapped his fingers loudly, and Jamal quickly swallowed and ducked his head. Cookie shot Lucious a nasty look. Lucious was always so hard on Jamal - this when Andre's table manners weren't much better. Lucious seemed to read Cookie's mind. "Elbows off the table, Andre," he ordered, then tried to answer Jamal's question in an age-appropriate manner. "Adultery...well, adultery is like when you...uh, when..."

"It's when you love more than one woman at the same time," Vernon cut in. Lucious smiled gratefully at his friend. "When you're married, you should only love your husband or your wife, nobody else," he explained.

"Not even your mom?" Jamal asked innocently.

"Well, I don't mean like that. You should always love your mom."

"What about your dad?"

"Your dad, too. But-"

"Jamal, what did you learn at Bible camp?" Candace cut in. Now Vernon was the one who was grateful.

"We learned a new song!" Jamal bragged. He wiped his mouth and stood. "Joshua fought the battle of Geritol...Geritol...Geritol..."

"That's your sinner," Cookie whispered to Lucious when everyone clapped and started eating again.

"Like father, like son," Lucious bragged, and he kissed Cookie on the cheek. Finally, Cookie could relax and smile for real.

Trevor Bennett faded from Cookie's mind until she went to bed, curled up in Lucious's arms but unable to sleep. Would Raul, thoroughly emasculated by Lucious earlier that day, become another Trevor Bennett? Would the humiliation he suffered render him unable to face life one day? What if that had been Andre or Jamal being mocked by a gangster's wife after going over to make amends? If anybody would be pissing themselves with fear, it would be Jamal...

"Cookie?"

"Hmm?"

"You're tossing and turning." Lucious reached over and turned on the lamp. "Cook. What really happened with that kid today?" he asked.

"What makes you think something happened?" Cookie deflected.

"I might have a rep, Cookie, but ain't nobody pissin' in front of me unless he did something wrong." Lucious sat up, and Cookie followed suit. She wasn't surprised that Lucious noticed Raul had pissed himself – in their line of work, missing even the slightest detail could land one in prison, or worse. "He didn't do anything to you, did he?"

"No. Yes," Cookie sighed when Lucious eyed her knowingly. "He mouthed off to me earlier this morning, but that's all. He came to apologize."

"What did he say?" Lucious asked, and Cookie knew it wasn't out of idle curiosity. "I don't remember," she lied. Lucious cocked an eyebrow, knowing full well that Cookie wasn't telling the truth. "Please, Lucious, don't make a big deal out of this. He apologized, okay? If you see him in the street, just say hi, okay? Better yet, don't say anything."

Lucious shrugged. "Alright, Cookie. If that's how you want it."

Cookie thought back to Trevor. She took Lucious's chin in her hands. "That's how I want it."

"Okay, Cookie. But you know I'll straighten out anybody who gets out of line." He kissed Cookie on her eyebrow. "You're my queen, Cookie," he reminded her. "I don't care if he is a kid – nobody messes with my queen."

"I know, Lucious," Cookie said wearily. "I know."

Drifting off to sleep, Cookie thought back to a line in a play she read in school once: uneasy lies the head that wears a crown. On nights like this one, Cookie felt like her crown weighed a ton. And considering the life they lived and the business they were in, Cookie wondered - as she often did when her husband had to remind everybody who was king - if Lucious felt the same way, too.

END