13. Bless
CHAPTER 13
BLESS
" E den and Zara, sit down and be quiet !” I shouted, trying to keep them from tearing the house apart.
I’d roared so unexpectedly loud that I’d made them jump out of their skin. They paused for a moment, looking at me with wide eyes. I was pacing with my phone in my hand. I took a deep breath, trying not to take my frustrations out on my babies.
“Mommy's trying to make some calls," I said softly. “Come over here and watch Doc McStuffins.”
My hands were shaking as I picked the remote up from the coffee table. My fingers trembled as I pressed the buttons on the remote and found their favorite cartoon. I was losing my mind. Legacy had been gone for days, and every time I thought about where he might be, the pit in my stomach grew deeper.
The familiar, upbeat jingle of "Doc McStuffins" filled the room. It was a lively tune that instantly should have brightened the atmosphere, but it couldn’t cure my worry and irritation. I quickly resumed making my phone call and Zara and Eden resumed their chaos, albeit a bit quieter.
I dialed Darrell's number, my hands continuously trembling. Listening to it ring, my mind constantly reminded me of the worst possible scenarios. Legacy could have overdosed or he could have been killed. Finally fed up with his circumstances, he could have run away.
“Hello?”
"Have you heard from Legacy yet?" I asked.
"No.” He sighed. “I haven't. I haven’t stopped looking for him, though.”
I hadn’t either. Whenever Sky or NaNa could keep an eye on the kids, I’d scour all of Legacy’s usual hangout spots, hoping to see a glimpse of him. When I had the kids, I drove around, searching the streets. I had given up calling, however. He wouldn’t answer.
"Days, Darrell… It's been days. What if something's happened to him?" The desperation in my voice filled the living room.
"We'll find him. I know he's been gone for a while, but we'll find him," Darrell tried to reassure me, but his words felt hollow.
“I’m going to call Tony again.”
“Okay. You’ll be the first person I call if I hear anything.”
“Same,” I promised before hanging up.
I grimaced as I dialed Tony. I wanted to blame Tony for Legacy’s addiction. He was the one who had given him that first pill, one of his mother’s prescriptions from her surgery. Yet, since then, Legacy had been getting pills from any source he could find. He was a grown man making a conscious decision to numb pain that felt unbearable.
“What’s up, Bless?” Tony answered.
"Have you seen Legacy yet?"
Tony hesitated, and I could practically hear him thinking of what to say. "Nah, Bless. I ain't seen him. You know how he is. Sometimes, he just needs to be alone."
I couldn’t trust him. Tony was Legacy’s right hand, so his loyalty was to him, not me. Even if he did know that Legacy was somewhere cooped up getting high and avoiding life, he would never snitch on his boy.
"Don't lie to me,” I softly gritted. “I know you know something.”
"Look, I can't help you if I don't know where he is," Tony said with an evasive tone that heightened my anger.
"Tony, if you care about him at all, you'll tell me the truth," I pleaded.
"Bless, I'm telling you I don't know. He ain't been around me.”
Sucking my teeth, I hung up, feeling more helpless as Eden and Zara erupted in screams and squeals as they wrestled over a toy.
"Eden, Zara, please!"
I plopped down on the couch holding my head in my hands. The heaviness of Legacy's absence pressed down on me, each unanswered call, each vague response from his so-called friends, was a reminder of how deeply his addiction had buried him. The kids' noise faded into the background as I fought back tears. My heart broke repeatedly as I realized what our lives had become since Ri’s murder. In the last three years, Legacy had slowly slipped so far away that on days like this, it was as if we had all lost him too.
For the last three years, I had watched Legacy slowly decline. He’d had his good days and his bad. Some days, he managed to be his normal self—loving and gentle with me and the kids, focused on providing for and leading our family. On those days, though, I knew he had taken something. I had learned to spot the dilation of his pupils, the slight tremor in his hands or the way his eyes seemed just a little too bright. He thought he was hiding it well, but I could see through the facade.
Then, there were the bad days, days when it seemed like he had given up entirely. He didn't care about anyone or anything. He looked lost, a shadow of the man he once was. He was irritable and moody, snapping at the kids and withdrawing from me. On those days, I knew he had gone on a bender, taking multiple pills and increasing the effects with alcohol and weed. It was like living with two different people—one who loved us deeply and wanted to do right by us and another who had been consumed by his demons.
But this was the first time he had disappeared for days.
I felt as if Legacy had fallen into a deep depression after Ri's murder. The guilt devoured him, and his mother's constant blame only made it worse. It was as if a part of him had died that day, and he was struggling to find his way back. He was haunted by the past, unable to move forward, and it broke my heart to see him like that.
I tried to be strong for him, to support him through his struggles, but it was exhausting. I never knew which version of Legacy I would come home to—the loving father and partner or the lost, irritable man drowning in his own pain. It felt like walking on eggshells, always waiting for the next bad day to hit.
I hoped and prayed that he would find his way out of this, that he would realize how much we needed him and how much he had to live for. But each day that passed without change made that hope harder to hold on to. And so, I continued to watch, to wait, and to love him the best I could even as he struggled to love himself.