Leaning down, he places a soft kiss on the side my head. “I’ll see if I can make it happen.”
Not wanting to even think about it, not willing to get my hopes up, I step out of his arms. Moving away from him, I wipe the tears from my eyes again. I look up at him, trying to think of something to say, but nothing comes to mind. Instead, I just turn around and head back into the house.
With each step, the pressure in my brain increases. Mom’s dying. How can I live without my mom? Again and again, the question ricochets through my mind. The pain in my chest is so intense, I feel as if I’m being ripped in two. I knew this was coming, have known it for years, but knowing doesn’t make it any easier.
I walk into the kitchen, which is now full of smoke and the acrid smell of burning chocolate. Rushing toward the stove, I grab a pot holder and pull the cake I was baking from the oven. It is charred beyond recognition. Anger courses through me as I toss the cake pan across the room. I watch as it hits the wall, sending chunks of charred cake all over the floor. “Damn it!”
With that, I rush out of the room and down the hall. As soon as I make it to the bathroom, I slam the door and turn the lock. Then, I turn around and slide down the door. When my ass hits the floor, I pull my knees forward and hug them closely.
“I’m sorry, Mom. I’m so sorry.”
Fix This
Bowie
As I walk into the kitchen, I see the remnants of Shay’s anger and pain. How the hell do I help her through this? I have no idea how to deal with this shit, none what so fuckin’ ever.
My mom died when I was sixteen, but her death didn’t cause me an ounce of pain. Even before her death, she was dead to me. We never had a relationship. She only spoke to me a time or two after she dropped me off on the club’s doorstep when I was five months old, not giving a shit if I was taken care of or not. I doubt she even remembered my name, after she walked away.
Nothing but a junkie whore, she only came around to beg Dad for money. When he got tired of giving it to her, she went to his brothers. She sold her mouth, her pussy, and her ass; anything to get her next hit. As the years passed by and the drugs took her looks, even the brothers wanted nothing to do with her. After that, she never came back.
I read about her death in the Owensboro paper, a few years before I went into the Army. If it hadn’t been for the tattoo of Cash’s name on her right hip, which the police posted in the paper, I wouldn’t have even known it was my mom. The police had her listed as a Jane Doe and they were looking for her family. I didn’t call in, there was no reason to. The body they held meant nothing to me.
Shaking off my grim memories, I walk over to the closet and grab the broom. I spend the next ten minutes cleaning up the mess Shay made and thinking of how to deal with everything. My only conclusion is I have to let her say goodbye. As soon as I put the broom away, I pull my phone out and hit Lock’s name.
“Is she okay?” He asks, as hello.
“No man, she’s not. I need you to do me a favor.”
“I’ll do anything I can, but I’m kind of low on options from my end.”
I’m sure he is. Working, being with his mom, and always keeping his eyes on Shay’s bastard of a husband has to be running him into the ground.
“I want you to keep your eyes on Marcus tonight. I need a heads up if his ass is anywhere near the hospital.”
His voice goes alert as he asks, “What do you have planned?”
I don’t have a plan, at least not a good one, but I don’t tell him that. “She needs to get to the hospital. If she doesn’t, she’s gonna break, so I’m gonna bring her up there.”
“Fuck.” He mumbles out. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
It’s not; I know it’s not. Shay needs to stay the fuck away from North Carolina and her fuckin’ husband, but it’s the only plan I’ve got. If I don’t take her, I’m afraid she’ll try to make it on her own, and that would be worse. “It’ll be fine. You do your part, and I’ll keep her safe.”
“Fuck.” He adds again. “Are you sure about this?”
“Yeah, I’m positive.” I only wish my thoughts were as sure as my words.
We’re both quiet for a moment. I’m thinking about everything that could go wrong during this trip, and I’m sure he’s thinking the same.
Finally, he speaks up. “What time?”
I look over to the clock and see the small hand closing in on ten. If we get our shit together, we could be on the road by noon. “I’m gonna call Tin-Man, have him ride backup. If he can leave right away, we should be heading your way within an hour or two.”