Houston #2
She hadn’t had a migraine in years, this was news to me.
We had been together for so long I thought I knew everything there was to know about her.
Standing to my feet, I met her at the stove.
I noticed that she looked flushed and sweat pooled around her forehead profusely.
“Hey, talk to me, tell me what’s going on? ”
“I don’t know but I don’t feel good, can you try not to burn the pasta?
I need to lay down,” she asked with a slight giggle.
I was no cook and she knew that. But for her, I would give anything a shot.
I watched her meander to the back. Like the mother she was, she peeked in on Malone who was playing with his new toys silently.
“Get some rest, I got him,” I urged catching her before she entered his room.
An hour passed, and dinner was done. Spaghetti, burnt garlic bread, and salad. I tried my best at making the spaghetti taste just like hers. The kitchen was a mess from my attempt to prepare dinner. I knew she would be fire hot but wouldn’t complain much. That wasn’t her style.
“Aye, mi familia it’s time to taste the best spaghetti you’ve ever had in your life,” I said clapping my hands and hitting Malone’s door first. Bright-eyed Malone rose to his feet leaving his action figures behind.
He grabbed my hand and we took off for the dining room.
Malone’s plate was already prepared, and I was going to serve my wife in bed.
“Daddy, it doesn’t look so good,” young Malone admitted. His filter was permanently broken but I didn’t mind. I wanted my son to grow up honest. Lies couldn’t live in the heart of a man. Real men kept it real at all times.
“I know but mommy isn’t feeling that good, so chef boy- R- daddy had to come through in the clutch. I’ll be right back, gotta take mommy her plate.”
Stepping into our massive bedroom, it was pitch black.
It was so dark I could barely make out where the bed was.
I knew turning the light on would potentially make her migraine worse.
With that thought, I grabbed my phone from my back pocket and used my flashlight.
I was always considerate of Leslie. It didn’t matter the situation, I thought of her first.
“Babe, I brought you dinner. You need to eat something,” I spoke but got no response. Sitting on the side of the bed, she didn’t stir. I tapped her body and she was plum cold. Jumping to my feet I hit the lamp on the side of the bed and was met with an unresponsive Leslie.
“Babe, wake up, let me know you can hear me.” I got nothing and that sent me in a panic. Kicking into high gear I checked her pulse and found nothing. Calling 911 the best I could I let them know something was wrong. The more they continued to remind me to remain calm the harder my chest thumped.
“Sir we need you to try CPR, we have units in route,” the dispatcher spoke.
Frantically, I dropped my phone and started administering CPR to her lifeless body. Tears sprung to my eyes and worry settled at the pit of my stomach. I was trying to so hard to revive her that I broke a sweat.
“No God, please no,” I said breathing into her mouth.
Pumping more and more my arms were starting to hurt but I wouldn’t dare give up on her.
Someone would have to tell me that she was gone before I gave up.
But within the blink of an eye, those words slipped from the mouth of the EMT’s that I hadn’t even noticed came in
Stepping back, my chest felt like it was going to bust completely open. At any second, my chest would pop and combust from the fire inside. I wanted to scream, shout, fuck something up, but before it could happen, God spoke to me and told me to get to Malone.
Searching the dining room, I found my son shivering in the pantry with a tear-stained face, “I’m sorry, bud, I tried. I swear I tried so hard.”
Night seemed to become morning as me and Malone sat in the pantry together.
Tears clouded my vision and Malone not understanding what just transpired made me want to rip my heart out.
I wished death upon myself, I wished I had the balls to burn the house down.
It wasn’t a home without her dwelling in it.
But I had Malone. I had someone that couldn’t afford to be left alone.
I had to crawl from the pantry and become the mother and father.
“We will be ok, she taught me well,” I whispered into a sleeping Malone’s ear. Rising to my feet, I decided I couldn’t look back. I had to get it together and handle my responsibilities.
Our life got turned upside down within seconds.
Still to this day I hadn’t figured shit out.
Some shit could never be repaired, her death was one of those things that would never leave my mind.
Right now I needed someone to exercise some tolerance and compassion before the few marbles I had left scattered.
The way I felt hearing the words ‘She’s gone’ were only multiplied by a thousand when I had to repeat those words to our son.
She was always working with him and ensuring he was the next Einstein.
Malone was well aware of what death was and the magnitude it carried.
It meant mom wasn’t coming back, it meant no more games with flash cards, and it meant we would have to figure it out on our own.
That destroyed the foundation of our family beyond restoration.
Even with me being a repairman I couldn’t mend that with tape, I couldn’t restore it with a little paint, it was unreconcilable.
“Fuck,” I said, hitting the steering wheel just thinking about all we went through.
Life was beating me down and stressing me out.
I had no clue what I was going to do with Malone for the rest of the day.
Work didn’t stop and not all of my clients appreciated having a smart mouth kid around.
He was the type of kid that had a question for everything.
Most of our time was spent googling the answers to his far-fetched or left field questions.
I was no genius like his mother. I couldn’t keep up with the magnitude of knowledge he possessed.
I barely made it out of college. Had it not been for Leslie agreeing to help me then, my life would have ended up differently.
No matter how hard I tried, thoughts and memories of her flooded my mind.
She was everywhere and nowhere at the same time.
Every piece of me was attached to her in some way.
The degree on the mantle reminded me of her helping spirit.
She cared about my success so much that she spent countless nights helping me study.
She didn’t need it. Leslie was much like Malone: brilliant.
Malone had her curly, charcoal black hair, dark eyes, and tiny frame.
The only thing that didn’t hold her memories was the home we lived in.
After her death, I sold our old house and found us something to start over with.
It was hard to do but I couldn’t sleep in that bed, I couldn’t walk in that closet, and I couldn’t cook in that kitchen.
The home we dwelled in now was nowhere near what we had back then, but it was still home.
Even with the move she still managed to creep in every now and again.
In front of the school, I gave it my best shot at calming my raging nerves and fighting back the tears.
I missed her so much. Bringing her back would be my only wish until the day I saw her lovely face again.
However, it wasn’t even about me anymore.
It was about how much Malone needed her.
I needed her leniency and understanding.
Moms went above and beyond with patience.
They carried this peace and calmness men had no way to tap into it.
The kind words, gentle touches, and faces that allowed kids to trust them.
My patience was running thin, my words were few with Malone’s lack of chill.
‘Ok, you can do this,’ I coached.
Most of the time when I showed up I had a hard time keeping my cool with the staff.
Well, with Ms. Norwood in particular. Everyone else wasn’t that bad and loved Malone.
It was her bitch ass that had it out to make Malone a statistic.
I had to set a better example for Mal. I refused to go in throwing the bitch word around like I wanted to.
It would for sure get him kicked out. I was a collected individual, cool, not easy to rouse and not with the rah-rah bullshit but she brought something out of me that I couldn’t describe.
Her demeaning looks made me want to air the building out and put it at ground zero, minus the kids.
Ms. Norwood didn’t want Malone to be great, but he deserved to be there without all this bullshit.
“She’s waiting on you,” the receptionist advised as I stepped in the grand front office. Orchids sat in the corner, the walls had fancy wallpaper, and the carpet had the school mascot in the middle. All too damn elaborate for an elementary school if you asked me.
“Head up son,” I corrected as I made my way to Ms. Norwood’s office.
Malone sat in the seat closest to the door with his curly head hanging down.
Tightening my fist, I proceeded. Making him feel bad wasn’t the way to go with me.
That would be the start of world war three.
Malone was still a damn child and my thoughts were shifting from calm to pissed off quickly.
I would be sure to let her know that the minute I stepped into her office.
Ms. Norwood was going to quit fucking with me and Malone once and for all.
When I stepped through the double doors I felt her judgment and that condemnatory smirk.
It was as if she took great pleasure in seeing Malone in trouble.
Never in my life had I felt like someone was being racist, but her bitch ass was prejudiced, to say the least.“Ms. Norwood, I suggest you get that smirk off your face. I came to play nice, but you got me fucked up,” I said easily.
I was still on my feet wishing the bitch would continue the disrespect in my face.
Before I could sit, my eyes found hers. Someone new, someone fresh with bright eyes and the skin the color of sweet tea.
She was a new face that I hadn’t seen before.
My breath was snatched like a girl’s edges after a bad perm.
Mind no longer on shutting the school down, it was now shuffled to her but, who was she?