Chapter 4
Four
Irish bobbed her head to “Spin Bout You” while looking out the window.
She and Jovanis had just come from dining at the newest restaurant in Downtown St. Parklynn.
After indulging in fresh seafood and two old fashions, she was in her zone.
Pulling up to a light, she peered at the cemetery to her left.
“You wonder where you're going when you die?” she asked him.
“Shit, probably to Hell.”
Snapping her neck toward him, she warned, “Van, you shouldn’t say things like that. Words have so much power.”
He smirked at her, resting one hand on the wheel.
“What? You act like I’m not telling the truth. After all the hell I’ve done, do you really think my name is written in the Book of Life? Be for real.”
“Yeah, I get that but you can change. We all can change and God can forgive us for our sins.”
He snorted just as the light turned green. “I love the way you think, Irish.”
“I’m being serious, Jovanis.”
“I know,” he replied. “That’s why I love you so much. You really care about where a nigga going when I die.”
“Well, of course I do. I don't wanna be at your funeral weeping because I think you're in Hell.”
“A funeral?” He scoffed. “I don't want no fucking funeral, Irish.”
“Why not?”
“Because that shit ain't necessary. I don't want a bunch of people, crying, knowing they didn’t fuck with me for real. Just get me cremated. No funeral.”
Irish shook her head. Jovanis could be so morbid at times.
“How do you know I’m not going to die before you?”
“‘Cause, God need you here on Earth to spread joy. You gonna live a long life. I don't think I am.”
“What did I just say? Don't talk like that.”
“A’ight, my bad.” He grinned at her. “But I'm for real on that funeral shit. I don't want one, Irish, and don't make nobody talk you into giving me one. Just get me cremated and throw my ashes in the ocean.”
The somberness was so thick it permeated the air.
Nighttime had fallen as everyone stood in the park.
Seeing the place where Jovanis took his last breath was so tortuous for Irish.
Instead of a funeral, she had arranged a memorial balloon release.
The news spread quickly after she posted the details online.
It seemed as if the entire city had come out to show support to Jovanis.
It was endearing to see but also a reminder that he was no longer with them.
Irish’s arm was tangled in Noble’s brawny one.
She’d been glued to him ever since the shooting.
Not feeling safe unless she was in his arms, Irish never wanted to let go.
Cali was on the side of her and Ivory was in front of her.
Noble’s brothers and Nuke weren’t present which puzzled her but she didn’t have the mental capacity to ask why.
She figured they were on the hunt for the person who had shot at her and killed her best friend.
People sported RIP shirts with Jovanis’ face on the front. Red balloons floated through the atmosphere while one of the soldiers in TLM stood near the tree.
“This don't even seem real,” he confessed, briefly gazing at the ground. A bottle of Hennessy was in his hand. “Van was my nigga, and he ain't deserve what happened to him. But we gon’ find out who did this. And I put it on my mama that they gon’ pay for this shit.”
“Hell yeah we gon’ slide for Van!” someone yelled out.
“This is for Van.” He held up the bottle before gulping down a sip. “Long live Van.”
All of the balloons were released and ascended toward the sky.
Irish put her head down, hoping to keep her tears captive until she got home.
For the last forty-eight hours, she had drained her pain through her eyes.
The agony was rooted in her bones, making her ache profusely.
Eating had been a chore and that was only due to the baby inside her stomach.
Knowing her first appointment was at the end of the week caused some concern since Irish hadn’t been taking care of herself.
“You good, baby?” Noble asked.
Irish gazed at him, noticing the genuine concern he held in his eyes. Not able to profess it verbally, she shook her head.
“It’s okay. I got you.” He kissed the top of her head.
Irish wondered if people thought she was insane for mourning her husband while wrapped in Noble’s arms. She noticed the inquisitive looks as they passed her. Some were bold enough to come up to her, asking if she was with Noble. He quickly shut them down, though.
“Wow, Jovanis had a lot of people that loved him,” Cali noted, looking around.
“Yeah, I wish he could’ve seen it,” Ivory added.
Irish spotted Uncle Mel and Uncle Fish steering through the crowd. Uncle Mel was the first to reach her as he exhaled a deep breath. Noble watched them closely, looking between her and them.
“How you feeling, Big Red?” Uncle Mel asked, calling her by the nickname he’d given when she was younger.
She shrugged. “I’m sure you can imagine.”
Uncle Fish nodded. “I know you talk to the police already but did they follow up?”
“They called this morning. Said they had a witness statement but nothing really concrete.”
“Damn,” Uncle Fish gritted. His orbs were reddened, unveiling he’d been either crying or was high.
“Look, I want you to meet us at Margie’s house tomorrow so we can help you out with the funeral arrangements.”
Irish cleared her throat. “Well, that won’t be necessary. Jovanis never wanted a funeral.”
Uncle Mel’s head reared as his eyes narrowed at her. “What you mean? We gotta have a funeral for my nephew. You can’t just put him in the ground without a proper goodbye.”
Noble scratched his beard and tucked his lips between his teeth. Irish saw him holding back from entering the conversation.
“I’m not putting him in the ground. I’m cremating him.”
Uncle Fish’s eyes bucked. “What? Nah, you can’t do that. You gotta give that man a proper burial. At least for his mama’s sake.”
Irish was adamant about respecting Jovanis’ wishes. Just because they wanted a big production, she wasn’t going to fold.
“Listen, I understand y’all want to send him off your way but he gave me specific instructions, and I plan to do exactly what he wants.” Irish made it clear.
Uncle Fish rested one of his hands on his hip. “But his mother deserves to bury her son.”
“The mother that threw him away at age ten? That’s the mama you're talking about? The one who made him feel so unwanted?” Irish ranted. “You want me to honor her wishes? Yeah, right. Jovanis wouldn’t even allow me to do that, so the answer is no.”
“Aye, you don't even know the full story,” Uncle Mel accused.
Noble pushed out a deep breath as his patience wore thin but he didn’t chime in.
“Excuse me? I’ve been around since I was fourteen. I know every single detail of Jovanis’ life.”
“But that’s only his perspective,” Uncle Fish countered. “You don't know why my sister did what she did.”
“Van’s perspective is the only one that matters,” Irish argued, grilling him. “Who cares about Margie’s reasons to throw him to the wolves.”
Uncle Mel shook his head, blowing out a frustrated breath. “You on some bullshit.”
“No, nigga you on some bullshit,” Noble finally interjected. “Are you fucking hard of hearing? She said she ain't having no funeral so deal with it. The fuck.”
Irish gripped his arm tighter, hoping he would catch her cue to calm down.
“Who the fuck are you?” Uncle Mel bucked up but Fish got in front of him.
“Aye, not here. Calm down,” he advised Mel.
“Yeah, not here ‘cause you’ll get your bitch-ass laid the fuck out,” Noble warned. “Don't ever talk to her like that again.”
Uncle Fish’s eyes narrowed at Irish. “You move on quick, don't you?”
“No, she move on to better.” Noble snorted. “Now I’m trying to be respectful but I don't mind turning this memorial into another homicide scene.”
“Noble it’s okay,” Irish softly said.
He cut his eyes at her. “A nigga talking to you crazy ain't gon’ ever be okay, especially when I’m here.”
“Shit,” Cali whispered under her breath.
“Fuck this.” Uncle Fish scowled, waving them off. “We don't need her permission to do a fucking funeral.”
“I think you do. I was his wife. Don't shit move until I say so.”
Uncle Mel’s face expressed his disdain with Irish as he looked her up and down. “You really showing who you are. All that acting innocent shit was just a front, huh?”
“Get your bitch-ass on before you get laid out,” Noble threatened.
The two men eye-warred until Uncle Mel surrendered. He walked away with Uncle Fish following closely behind him. Irish released a breath of relief, silently thanking God that a shootout didn’t occur.
“Damn, Jovanis’ family is annoying as shit,” Cali complained. “First the mama and now those two loser-ass niggas.”
“They're usually cool but I guess his death put them in a different mood.”
“Fuck them,” Noble muttered just as Rio cut through the crowd.
He first approached Irish. “You good, sis?”
She nodded. “Yeah, I’m okay, Rio. Thanks for asking.”
His gaze glanced at Cali, who didn’t give him any eye contact. Rio then whispered something in Noble’s ear.
“I’ll be right back,” he told Irish.
She nodded and watched them step away to gain some privacy.
“Dumb bitch. Don't look at me,” Cali mumbled, referring to Rio
For the first time that night, Irish chuckled. “He sure did take a look at you.”
Ivory turned around. “I thought you were sad about your divorce.”
“Fuck him,” Cali hissed, rolling her eyes.
Irish knew that was her emotions talking. Deep down, under all the debris of pain, was still some love.
Noble came back over to where they were standing. “Let me know when you ready to go.”
“I’m ready now.”
The sorrow of the memorial had infected Irish with more grief. She’d been holding her tears in ever since they arrived. She needed a release, especially after Jovanis’ uncles had come at her crazy.
“A’ight, let’s go.”
Days later…
She looked as if she had been in a fight with an animal.