Chapter 15
FIFTEEN
Two weeks later…
My knuckles crashed against the front door of the residential home. The black shades Sonnie had bought me for Christmas shielded my eyes from the sun’s rays. They were already in excruciating pain and nearly swollen shut.
It had been fourteen whole days and my heart had yet to stop aching. Sonnie’s death was still fresh and so were the wounds it caused. Nevertheless, I’d flown hours across the waters while preparing myself for this very moment.
The door stretched open. Behind it appeared a man that made my heart skip a full beat. I inhaled deeply, reminding myself that he was nothing more than connection to Sonnie. My lover, my person, had met his demise. He’d lived by the gun and died by it. In an ironic twist, I knew that it was the only way he’d want to leave this earth if he had the choice.
“Rugger,” Solomon greeted me.
“Solomon.”
I couldn’t coat the pain with a smile. It was too unforgiving.
He stepped aside and invited me into his home. I shook my head, unable to take a step in his direction. It hurt too bad. Everything ached.
Tears slipped from beneath my shades as my right leg began to shake. My nostrils flared, threatening a full-on cry, but I mustered the strength to reduce intensity of my emotions.
“Is it my Sonnie boy? Is he alright?”
I shook my head. “No, Mr. Santoro. Sonnie is not alright.”
He placed a hand on his chest and began looking around as if he would magically appear. I wished those odds were in both of favor, but they weren’t.
“He’s not here and he– he won’t be coming here. Not ever,” I revealed.
My heart shattered continuously with each word I spoke.
“Your son, the love of my life– he’s dead, Solomon.”
I swallowed the lump of pain in my throat. His eyes swelled twice their size. He stumbled backward a full foot. The news had knocked the wind from his chest. He tried but couldn’t release as much as a syllable.
“I must go now. Be well. Rest knowing that Psalms cared for you deeply and missed you more than you’d ever understand. His absence wasn’t a choice he made lightly. It was a choice he made to protect you. Just like me, you were a weakness for him. Unfortunately, he wasn’t the only one who knew that. And, it cost him his life.”
I didn’t wait for a response because I knew there wouldn’t be one. With my head low and my eyes toward the ground, I exited the yard and climbed into the truck where Aden was waiting. He was the only reason Chemistry agreed to my visit to the States so soon.
Though he’d been assured I was in the clear and my name hadn’t surfaced on any databases, he was still taking precautions. He’d sent the message and it had been received. If I was touched, Clarke wouldn’t remain standing. It would be a mere blemish on the Huffington map.
“Next stop,” he asked as he settled in the front seat.
“Yes.”
I leaned my head against the window, praying the pain away. I’d advise my worst enemy that death was easier than this. It had to be.
Instrumentals played in the background as I melted into the leather. Though it was sunny out, gloom clouded my vision. Despair sealed my lids. It wasn’t until the wheels of the armored truck stopped that I reopened them.
“Rugger,” Aden called out, “We have arrived.”
I lifted my head to find that we had indeed arrived. However, the idea of exiting the SUV was far more attainable than the action. Defeat claimed my limbs every day and every night.
“Okay.”
I allowed my neck to support the weight of my head. When Aden snatched the door open, I slid out and into the open air. One foot after the other, I made my way toward the employee entry of the office. I was met by Pipa, Roaman’s college roommate. She, too, had finished school before her peers and was on campus years sooner than the majority of her class.
“Ms. Childers,” she greeted me, “It’s been a while.”
Silently, I followed her down the hallway into an empty room.
“There’s a restroom to the left. You’ll need this when you go inside. Put it in the tray near the small window. We’ll take care of the rest. Strip down to your socks and put on the robe provided. I’ll see you in a few minutes.”
She disappeared shortly after giving instructions. I stepped into the restroom and removed the cap from the cup. By the time I finally got my pants down, my bladder was begging to be emptied. I filled the cup halfway before allowing the toilet bowl to collect the rest of my urine.
I cleaned my hands and pulled my pants up on my hip once I was finished. I screwed the lid on the cup and placed it in the small window as instructed. When I returned to the room, I stripped down from head to toe, leaving my socks on.
I fastened the plastic strings of the robe in front of me and climbed on top of the bed. My Beretta was clutched in my right hand as I laid all the way back. My left hand lowered onto my stomach.
I’d learned that God had a good time laughing at any and every plan we made for ourselves. This time, I was hoping he hadn’t made a bigger fool of me than I already felt he had with Sonnie’s death.
My PCOS diagnosis at twenty-two decreased my chances of fertility by ninety percent. My period was abnormal. Since puberty, I’d only had five of them in total. I didn’t produce nearly as many eggs as the average woman.
Cysts crowded around my ovaries. They were practically useless. My chances of motherhood were slim to none which I was perfectly fine with. The birth control I consumed monthly was an extra layer of protection and a means of regulating my hormones so I didn’t experience rapid weight gain, substantial hair growth in places women didn’t usually experience growth, mental health issues, and a host of other problems caused by cystic ovaries.
The idea of children didn’t support my lifestyle. They’d only slow me down. Cement me. Root me. Keep me grounded in places and at times I wanted nothing more than to be free, roam freely, think freely, and decide freely.
Don’t start your shit today, Lord .
The twenty-four sickness wasn’t a part of my grief, which was why I hid the symptoms from those around me as best I could. I chose solitude over the village that was prepared to gather and grieve alongside of me.
I am– I’m no more good. I can’t take another blow, Lord.
I closed my eyes as a tear slid down the right side of my face. I swiped it quickly and began the wait for my physician.
Images of Sonnie coaxed my spirit, calmed my raging heart. I missed him every day. Every hour. Every second.
The person who had been designed for me being taken away was the cruelest, sickest joke God could ever play on me. I no longer wanted to participate in his games. They were lethal and they were disheartening. I’d never piece myself back together. Between Sonnie and Richie, recovery wasn’t optional.
Pipa waltzed into the office with a smile on her. Before she opened her mouth, I knew my fate. I sighed as I waited for the words to confirm what I’d been knowing for almost two weeks now.
4:23p
Sunshine peered through the glass windows, waking me from a deep slumber. The days seemed few and far apart and pointless and never ending. Staring at the empty space beside me sent a painful chill up my spine.
Sonnie, baby .
His absence was gutting. I missed him from sun up until the sun set. Through the night and during the wee hours. In the early morning before the sun peaked and every second in between.
We needed you .
I placed a hand on my stomach. Eight weeks to the day, I’d been impregnated according to the in depth analysis of my womb, the growing fetus, and the intensity of my symptoms.
I buried my head into the pillow where he slept. His scent lingered. And, for a moment, I pretended he hadn’t left me in this cold world with his growing child in my belly, but he’d gone to complete an assignment. At any minute, he’d be walking through the door to hold me and kiss me goodnight.
It was the furthest from the truth, but for a moment, it soothed the aches. I inhaled, taking in his unique aroma. Closing my eyes, I revisited our last time in the bed. He laid beside me with wide, curious eyes as he revealed his plans for us. Plans that included marriage, home ownership, a marksmen academy, children, and a retreat on a private island much like St. Catana.
I couldn’t break his heart and confess my truth in the moment, so I let him ramble. Children were only a figment of my imagination and I didn’t imagine having them. Not now and not ever. However, Psalms had spoken life into my womb long before the results were read to me at the doctor’s office.
He’d prayed for the life he wanted with me and had begun working toward it. His demise was a shame, because it was beginning to happen for us. For me. Starting with our child.
It’s a miracle, Sonnie .
I sprang to my feet as the pan-seared chicken and broccolini threatened to soil the sheets. It was at that very moment I realized I wasn’t alone. Chatter from downstairs became apparent and so did the smell of freshly seasoned meat.
My knees met the cool, tiled floor. The bathroom began to spin. My head began to throb and suddenly I felt unwell.
“Urrrrgh.”
I emptied the contents of my stomach into the toilet at an alarming rate. My body heaved with each attempt to release more. However, there was nothing left to give after several mouthfuls.
I made it to my feet and then to the sink. I slathered paste on the toothbrush and began drawing circles on the skin of my teeth. The gagging from the taste of the toothpaste was the final straw. I spat it into the sink after only a single pass over my entire mouth.
Pathetic.
I rinsed and pulled the black robe I’d been gifted over my shoulders. The panties and cropped tee weren’t enough to keep me warm. Though I loved the blissful cold, tonight I had no intention of enjoying it. I wanted shelter. Comfort. Warmth. Security.
I made the mistake of peering in the mirror. My reflection was frightening. There wasn’t a strand of hair on my head in place. My eyes were swollen. My lips were twice their size from consuming so many tears over the last two weeks. My face was puffy. And, my nose was red. Everything was tender to the touch.
They’ll all die. Slow, miserable deaths .
When my storm passed. They wouldn’t be able to experience sunshine again. It would rain bodies until their entire lineage was discontinued.
I promise, Sonnie .
I descended the stairs, sauntered down the hallway, and made it into the kitchen where the women who shared my blood lined the island. Drinks were in rotation. I hadn’t invited a single soul to Sonnie’s home, but they’d invited themselves. For now, that was alright with me.
“Sleeping beauty is awake–” Roaman called out.
There was cheer all around me, forcing a smile to curve my lips upward.
“There’s hardly anything beautiful about me right now. I look like I’ve been hit by an 18-wheeler.”
“Even worse,” Range added, “You’ve been hit by life.”
“And an 18-wheeler ain’t got shit on that motherfucker,” Roulette scoffed.
“Talk about it,” Royce sighed. “How are you feeling?”
“Empty.” I paused, taking a seat in the empty chair. “Gutted.”
There were nods from every woman around me.
“Well, Roaman is whipping up something for you to fill your tummy. We’re all worried about you. We hope you don’t mind the company,” Royce explained, “We invited ourselves in.”
I couldn’t complain. On nights when the pain was unbearable, I’d invited myself into their homes. My mother’s home had seen the worst of me. I wept on her pillow like a baby in need of a bottle. My solitude was the most precious asset during this time, but there were moments when I simply needed my support system.
I learned rather quickly that I was never too old or too prideful to be held in their arms or sleep in their beds. They welcomed me even though it was only a few hours before I was in the wind again.
“Even if you do mind, we’re–”
“Roulette,” Rome blurted, “Please.”
“Girl, raise your voice at me again and watch I take off this belt and bend your ass over.”
Laughter erupted, healing a small piece of me at once.
“Leave her alone, Roulette. My trigger finger is itching.”
“You’re fucked up right now, babes. You couldn’t shoot a mailbox if that motherfucker was in front of you right now. Sit this one out.”
My body rattled from her response. Though her claims were false, I was indeed in shambles.
“Keep messing with her and find out if my aim is as fucked up as me.”
“Hey. Hey. Can we get along for one night?” Roaman asked, sitting the first plate on the counter.
It was mine. Silently, I warned my entire digestive system to keep everything I consumed down until we were alone again.
Roasted corn, baked beans, and medium-well steak made the perfect effortless meal. Dinnerware tapped against plates as chatter lessened. The girls had a long flight. Their bellies were empty and their appetites were aggressive.
“Teddy sent you?”
I broke the silence as I sipped from the glass of water in front of me. Range was the first to nod her head. The rest of the crew followed.
“I’m not ready,” I admitted.
“When will you be ready?” Royce asked.
“I don’t know. When it hurts less. When it’s easier to leave his bed. When his scent no longer lingers on his sheets. When his home doesn’t bring me closer to him anymore. I don’t fucking know.”
“You don’t have to know this minute, Rugs. He just wants to keep you safe,” Rome explained. “So do we.”
“Then tell me,” I begged, “Will anything happen to me, Rome?”
If no one else in the world knew, she would. She was the only one who knew the fate of others before it was exposed.
“Hm?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Then, I stay. I stay until I feel better. Until I can fathom leaving this all behind. Leaving him behind. I’m not ready.”
“We understand,” Range said to me. “We understand, Rugger.”
“Good, because I don’t want to explain myself again.”
“You won’t have to,” Roaman assured me.
“Thanks,” I responded in a milder, less abrasive tone. “Sorry, I just– I’m just hurting. Everywhere. And, I’m not ready. I’m just not ready.”
“That’s okay, babes. We’ll be here every week until you are. Take your time. No one is rushing you,” Rather spoke for the first time. “Should you need me in between time, I am a call away.”
“I know.”
Black women. They were the most beautiful creatures to walk God’s green earth and I had the privilege of being one. Knowing some. And, sharing blood with many. We were everything the world had told us we couldn’t be.
Educated.
Wealthy.
Sophisticated.
Successful.
We were what they didn’t want us to become. Yet, here we were. Thriving in our own right, even while hardships were staring us dead in the face.
When Roaman began her rounds, collecting plates, mine was still half full. I couldn’t stomach any more than I’d already eaten. My social battery had died, but every time I heard laughter from one of my siblings, I was instantly charged again.
“Alright, now, let’s pray this woman doesn’t try to put us out before we can get into our pajamas. You know how she gets,” Rather chuckled, tiptoeing across the room to retrieve a large bag.
I couldn’t help but shrug. It was true. They all knew they were on borrowed time.
“But, in the event she is feeling generous and lets us stay for the movie night I’ve planned, I have us all matching sets.”
“Rome–”
She pulled out a black two-piece for the youngest of the crew.
“Rugger–”
She stretched her arms to hand me a matching set.
“Range. Royce.”
It wasn’t until we were all in possession of our wardrobes that she began pulling out black, furry slippers.
“Fuck you think this is, Rather, The Mansion ?”
“A mansion but not The Mansion . Because, I wouldn’t be putting on clothes. I’d be taking them off and my husband’s hard dick would be waiting for me to sit on it. So, no. I don’t think this is The Mansion . I think it’s Rugger’s place of residence. For now, at least.”
“Excuse the fuck out of me then,” Roulette retorted with both hands in the air.
“Mine?” I asked, tilting my head toward the slippers in her hand.
“Yes.”
“I’m going to take off upstairs to get changed. I will see you ladies in a few minutes. Please behave,” I warned, making strides toward the steps.
I was prepared to have my head in the toilet bowl. I could feel my food at the top of my stomach, ready to cause turmoil until they were released.
The master bathroom seemed to have moved a mile down the hallway. When I finally made it and kneeled before the toilet, nothing happened. The queasiness had subsided and I felt perfectly fine.
I pressed my back against the counter cabinets, anticipating the moment the discomfort returned. However, eight minutes later, and I was still well. I stood on my feet and met my reflection near the mirror.
I removed the robe and laid it on top of the counter. Curiosity forced me to turn sideways. I peered at my reflection, trying to see if there were any noticeable signs of pregnancy. My stomach was still flat against my abs.
I inflated it with nothingness, imagining a bulging belly. The joy I was anticipating never came. The image only brought me despair. Worry lines crinkled my forehead as I exhaled. My stomach flattened and the pajama shirt slid over my head with ease.
Foolish of me , I chastised.