Romero slowed down watching her pose for a picture with a woman he could only imagine was her mom. She noticed him after the picture had been taken and smiled, making Romero breathe in deeply. He smiled back and began walking toward her. She’d only taken a few steps, when her boyfriend stepped in front of her with a bouquet of flowers. The moment was over and he decided to walk away.
He rounded up his two best friends: Eric Diego and Angel Moreno. “Don’t ask me why, but Manny wants pictures with you guys in ‘em. Let’s get this over with. The sooner we’re done, the faster I can get dinner with them out of the way and we can meet up.”
“No fights this time uh?” Angel smirked.
“Shit, we’re not out of here yet.” Romero laughed.
They posed for a few hundred more shots, and the whole time Manny came up with more reasons why he had to take another.
“Do you have to make that face in every picture? This isn’t a mug shot. Max, will it kill you to f**king smile in just one of these? Stop with the tough guy poses, Moe, no one’s buying that shit.”
Eric and Angel stifled in laughs. Romero had always gone by his last name to everyone else but his uncles. His first name was Ramon, though he’d never gone by it. Manny and Max both called him Monie when he was a kid. Over the years it morphed into Moe. His uncles loved introducing themselves as Manny, Max, and Moe any chance they got. They thought it was cool but Romero knew people’s first thought, especially considering his two uncle’s appearances were the Three Stooges.
They finally got out of there and went to the Lucky Dragon for dinner. Besides his friend Angel’s family’s upscale Mexican restaurant, this was the only other fancy restaurant his uncles liked going to. They’d gone there for so many years the owners knew them well. The owner’s name was Pak Mi and even after all these years it never got old. “Pak Mi? No Pak you!” Then his uncles would go into a fit of laughter as if it were the first time they used that one.
After plowing through his food, Romero checked his phone again and replied to a text from Eric.
“Put that shit away, will you?” Manny pointed his chopsticks at Romero’s cell. “How many times do I have to tell you, not during dinner?”
“But I’m done.” Romero continued to text.
“Take that thing from him,” Manny said to Max.
Romero scooted out of the booth before Max could reach for his phone. He leaned in and hugged Manny and then Max, then smiled and nodded at Aida. “Eric is outside—party time.” He grinned. “Thanks for dinner. Don’t wait up.”
“Hey, Moe,” Manny called out as he began to walk away. “You got condoms. Use them.”
Romero turned to the women in the next booth who looked up at him after hearing his uncle’s loud statement. He smiled and winked. “Don’t worry. I always do.”
Angel’s family went all out as usual. They owned a restaurant and closed it up for the evening, just for the occasion. They’d party there for a while because they could sneak the free liquor from the bar and then move on to after-parties.
His two best friends couldn’t be more different than him, but they’d been his best friends since they were kids and they’d always gotten along great. Romero knew if he hadn’t lived up the street from them, they would’ve never been as tight they were now. That’s how different they were.
Angel came from a big family—two brothers and a sister, and his parents owned one of the most renowned restaurants in La Jolla. His two older brothers were in college on full scholarships. Angel was on the same path. He’d been the star football player most of the four years in high school. The only time he hadn’t been in the spotlight was when his brothers were in it.
Eric was an only child so he could relate to Romero in that sense, but that’s where any similarity in their family lifestyle ended. Eric’s dad was a businessman and the epitome of class. He jetted all over the world, was well-read and educated. Both Eric and Angel’s futures were carefully planned. They’d be attending college in the fall and knew exactly where they were going.
Romero, on the other hand, hadn’t even looked into college. His uncles were under the impression that he’d join the family business. But Romero had other plans. Plans he hadn’t shared with anyone.
His uncles, while a little rough around the edges, were good guys—now. They’d come a long way from their days of being thugs. His grandmother told him stories when he was younger. They ran with the worst of them and got his dad, their youngest brother, involved. Then his dad was arrested for drug trafficking—something to which his brothers introduced him. Romero was just a baby. His grandmother said his uncles, full of regret, decided to turn over a new leaf. Lead a life on the straight and narrow.
They gave up trafficking for gambling on the ponies in Del Mar. Manny was surprisingly lucky. He planned on saving up his winnings and opening up his own business. Then a few years later, his uncles decided they needed to step up and be the role models they never were to their younger brother. So they gave up the life of gambling for a more respectable way of life—they opened up a titty bar.
Romero’s dad was supposed to do fifteen years in the can, but he was out on parole earlier that year. Just a few months later, he was back in for possession. The judge wasn’t messing around either, since he was still on parole—slapped another ten-year sentence on him. Romero didn’t care. He’d never known his old man anyway. As far as he was concerned, his uncles and grandmother were the only parents he ever had.