9. It always rains in april #2
Spring moved through the room on autopilot.
She comforted Ms. Loretta, Cameron’s mother, but there was nothing anyone could do or say for a parent dealing with this form of grief.
Especially one who had been as uninvolved as she had been most of his life.
She was almost a stranger at the repast. Spring knew guilt was weighing on her.
The rest of the afternoon she heard the things people say when they don’t know what else to say.
“I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“He was a light.”
“We’re praying for you.”
She nodded, thanked, hugged when appropriate. Touched shoulders, did the choreography she’d learned long ago.
That was when she saw Preston’s mother. Talia Cole.
Still striking. Still impeccably put together, hair laid just so, sunglasses perched like armor, even indoors.
Ten years might’ve passed, but her energy hadn’t softened – if anything, it had sharpened.
“The infamous Nairobi Ellison. Or should I call you Spring Green?” she greeted with a half-smile.
Spring smiled politely. “Mrs. Cole, how are you?”
“Look at you,” Talia exclaimed, pulling Spring into a brief hug that smelled like expensive perfume. “All grown up and accomplished. I see you.”
“It’s been a long time.”
“Too long,” she replied, already scanning the room. “Last time I saw you, you were still figuring out what to do with all that talent.”
Spring laughed politely. “Some days I still am.”
Preston’s mother waved a hand. “Aren’t we all?”
“Preston seems to have figured it out.”
His mother stiffened and sipped a drink that was clearly spiked, took a sigh and replied. “Some days better than others, you know how it is.”
“Right.”
“Talk to your father?”
Spring sighed. “Actually I stayed with him last night.”
“Well, that’s good to hear. Parents are complicated, but you gotta know that they always have your best interest at heart, even if we come off a bit heavy-handed.”
“I don’t think?—”
“It’s always good to be right with the people you love.
If Cameron’s passing taught us anything, it’s that time is borrowed.
Now, excuse me before somebody asks me for a favor, a job, or an opinion.
” She leaned in. “I don’t give those away for free.
It’s good to see you, Nairobi.” With that, she disappeared – swift and strategic.
Spring watched her go, shaking her head fondly.
Needing a break from everybody, she headed outside to catch her breath for what felt like the first time that day. She discreetly slipped out the side door.
I could really use an edible right now.
She needed space – something unscripted, untouched by memory. Outside, the air felt different. Quieter.
As she moved toward the small garden, Preston appeared from around the corner, hands in his pockets, looking like he had the same thought as her. She joined him before she could talk herself out of it.
“You want one?” Preston asked, holding up a small gummy like it was no big deal.
Spring blinked. “Didn’t you just get out of rehab?”
“Checking up on me?”
“It was national news. Hard not to see it, Big Bird.”
He scoffed. “Well, that was for alcohol. And I only let that rumor live so I could get a break from all of it.” He held it out again. “Now, do you want it or not?”
She took it. “Wow. Growth.”
He smirked. “Don’t get carried away.”
They stood there for a moment, the quiet settling back in.
“So,” she said. “Preston Cole… bad boy of R on both counts.”
“Yeah,” he said flatly. “They forget: just because I’m R two men bound by memory, loss, and something unspoken that still mattered.
She followed a moment later.
Whatever this was between her and Preston – whatever it had been – was starting to feel unfinished.