11. Ezekiel
Apiece of my heart felt like it was missing. Looking ahead at the hearse carrying my mom’s body, moments like this made me wish I’d gone through with my original plan. A plan that equated to me ending my pain for good. For years, I’ve lived in a constant state of denial. Never wanting to accept my mom’s reality. Forever praying that the good would outweigh the bad.
I guess that would mean my mom living in pain and suffering for my gain.
Selfish.
Since Sunnie and I tossed my bed, I haven’t had a nightmare sleeping on our air mattress, but the painful reality of my mom being dead sometimes made me wish I could go back to those dreams. A place where pain didn’t exist, only fear.
To make matters worse, Crystal has called and each time I forward her call to voicemail with a text following explaining that I’d call her back when I was done dealing with family shit. She’s carrying my child. Doesn’t the well-being of my seed fall in line with family shit?
I wasn’t thinking clearly.
My thoughts were a jumbled scrambled fucking mess.
The only thing I’ve managed to do correctly is design a collection of suits in honor of my mom that our entire family, minus my dad, wore today in celebration of her memory. Different shades of soft lavender worn by each generation and our immediate family. Cream and gold accent accessories for each gender. Fedora hats and custom handkerchiefs with my mom’s birthday and favorite scripture. I spent a lot of money to have the line designed and ready in time for her funeral. My seamstress barely batted an eye or flinched when I gave my demands and timeline. All she asked was for my black card and patience. I gave everything she needed along with the numbers of my family so she could get their measurements and we picked everything up yesterday. Everything fit. Barely any alterations that had to be done. Only a few tweaks, but for the most part, we looked good. Really damn good.
She even managed to create the dress I wanted my mom to wear.
Leave it up to my dad. He’d have her dressed in a frumpy moo-moo dress from Walmart. Fuck no. I refused for my mom to be laid to rest in nothing but the finest. She deserved it while living and I for damn sure made sure she looked perfect, even in death. Between my seamstress and Sunnie, mom’s nails were done to match her lavender dress. Her hair was styled in the prettiest of curls. Sunnie even added some makeup that changed her look from ghostly to beautifully sleeping.
“Love, are you ready?” Sunnie’s soft hand squeezed mine.
For my special girl, I made sure my Sunnie Mae looked stunning. She, too, wore a lavender suit paired with pearls like Leann.
A long lapel jacket that dusted the floor thanks to her matching Jimmy Choo heels. The wide leg pants sprouted from her hips and cinched her small waist like my hands have done in my dreams. A cream silk blouse tucked in. A single string of pearls resting on her collarbone. Matching fedora hat over her slicked low bun and stud pearl earrings.
She looked good.
She smelled even better.
“Yeah.”
We were in a three-row limo with my brother and his family while dad sat in one by himself. He took one look at me when I got to their house and refused to share space with me.
That shit had my chest tight and my mood more depressed.
He’d already gone inside the church along with my aunts. A true pussy bitch. He thought his demands of keeping me from being one of the six carrying in my mom’s casket were going to be heard. I’ll be damn if this man thought he was going to punk me at my mom’s funeral. I carried her in on unsecured legs. Walking slow, allowing the weight of the casket iron bars to rest in my hands, I tried to control my breathing as best as I could. I’ve gone to my share of funerals. I’ve been a pal barrier of a few caskets, but never for my mama.
Each step I took inside the church, the weight of my reality weakened me. Though he never said it or complained, I knew Jeremiah felt my hold slip a few times. He kept his gaze focused ahead. Eyes hidden by dark shades. After we made sure her casket was secured on the gold platform, we took our seats and mom’s life celebration began.
Bishop Cambridge started the reading of the eulogy, and my focus rested on the picture of my mom on the cover of the obituary. It was taken this past Christmas at the cabin I rented in Colorado. During Thanksgiving dinner, I asked her what she wanted for Christmas expecting her to name several kitchen gadgets she didn’t need or another sewing machine. She surprised us all when she asked to spend Christmas in the mountains.
Nothing else needed to be said.
I made it happen.
She was happy, smiled the entire week we were there. On the days her energy was at its highest, she’d go out and have a snowball fight with her grandkids. Ask Jeremiah and me to go make snow angels. Build a snowman with Leann. Every day was a new adventure for her, and I captured one of her moments during a night when we were out by the firepit roasting smores.
Damn, I missed my favorite girl.
I owe Leann and Aleyah for their creativity with this obituary. Aleyah crafted my mom’s life and love for her hobbies and family so beautifully. It’s like she had this secret conversation with my mom prior to her death and poured out her words. Don’t even get me started on the poem written in the back addressed to her boys. Out of the four-page obituary, two of them were dedicated to me and Jeremiah. I had a page with nothing but pictures of me and mom. The icing on the cake was my name and my accomplishments, the clean version, were listed. Bishop made sure to read my section extra loud and clear, antagonizing the hell out of my dad.
He was fuming.
I made it through most of the service without breaking down. Jeremiah and I were expected to give the final word at the end, and I wasn’t prepared for that at all. Aleyah had written everything I had to say, so that wasn’t the problem. The problem was knowing that the minute my lips parted, I was going to lose my shit.
“I’m not ready,” Sunnie mumbled, reaching into her clutch for tissue.
I was about to ask her what she was referring to but then I heard the slow melodic hymn and the middle of my chest started to ache. Aleyah had taken the mic and all I could do was rest my arms on my knees, hang my head, and let my emotions fall to the ground. She and my cousin Jonathan started the service singing A Song for Mama by Boyz II Men, creating an atmosphere of sadness and reflection. This song, one of my mom’s favorites. It broke me. Aleyah belted out My Heart Will Go On by Celine Dione like no other. I questioned why Leann chose this song and she said my mom wanted this.
But this… this hurt.
How was my heart supposed to go on without my favorite girl?
After Aleyah finished, the church was a sobbing mess and neither Jeremiah nor I were in a condition to give the final word. Taking my hand in hers, Sunnie walked up to the podium and stood next to Leann, who had Jeremiah’s hand in hers, and our women did what we couldn’t.
Our women.
My woman.
They gave the closing word and thanked everyone for coming out to celebrate our mom on our behalf.
Sunnie stepped in when she didn’t have to. That spoke volumes of her love for me. An endless type of love that grew every day. Making it hard to not cross over those imaginary lines we created to keep our friendship leveled.
“Where’s your mind at, Ezekiel?” Bishop Cambridge cornering me outside the church wasn’t of any surprise. I’ve been dodging him for quite a while now.
Over the years, he’s been a mentor to me. Helping me navigate being a man and the world around me. Offering business advice and wise counsel in the arenas my father should’ve been my sounding board. I called him immediately when Crystal told me she was pregnant and I was one of three men that might be the father. Sought him out like I wanted to do with my dad. His spiritual wisdom and realistic views on life were refreshing. He’s never judged me in my profession. Never made me feel less than. My overall well-being has always been his concern.
My mental health.
My spiritual health.
“Honestly, I’m lost, Bishop.” Thankful that my dark shades hid my eyes, my head dropped not wanting him to see my vulnerability. “It’s the what am I supposed to do next that haunts me. In a few months, I’m going to be some kid’s father. What makes God think I’m strong enough to bear all of this?” My jaw clenched in frustration. With my hands fisted in my starched slacks, I looked over the crowd of people pouring out of the church. We had fifteen minutes before the procession headed towards the burial site.
The final goodbye that I wasn’t at all ready for.
“Right now it may not feel that way, but you’re stronger than you think. God’s toughest warriors fight some tough battles. Scars are a given. But whoever said life was supposed to be easy? When you start walking in your purpose it damn sure won’t make you a part of the soft life club. It’s going to build your faith and strength as a man and a father for the child you’re going to be raising. You were created for so much more than your eyes can see and ears can hear, Ezekiel. Let God use you and stop running.” His words resonated deeply and conviction pressed down on my shoulders, as always.
As much as I’ve grown tired of the lifestyle I created. Tired of the clubs, drugs, and parties. Tired of sleeping around with no end goal outside of money. No matter how unaccomplished I felt in contrast to my bank account. No matter how many times I told Bishop and Sunnie that I’d walk away at any moment, I sipped too many mocktails with my staff and now had a bad case of FOMO.
Fearing that I’ll miss out on the invitation rather than the experience. Fearing that people will forget my name. Fearing that I’ll stop being sought after and won’t have a ‘no’ to give.
I wanted the demand that came with my life but I didn’t want to act on the demands. I wanted the world of secular and lust to continue to want me but I didn’t want to want them.
Odd, but true.
Serving the world weighed my shoulders down, while my inner being cried out wanting to be refreshed with something higher and beyond me.
“Hey, Ezekiel.” A soft raspy voice breezed past my ears as Aleyah came into view.
She too wore dark shades and sported a red nose. The songs we selected for her to sing were touching. Hard for her to sing and not get emotional. “Hey, Bishop.” She hugged him first and then me.
“Where are you headed?” Bishop was nosey as hell.
Used to him prying in her life, she gave a small smile. “Don’t start, Bishop. You know exactly where I’m going since he snitched and told your wife about what I said.” Her playful eyeroll and smile exposed the crescent crease in her left cheek. “I don’t know when I’ll see you again, Zeek. Take care.” She hugged me tight, and I hugged her tighter.
“If I knew inviting you over and trying to do an intervention would mean not having you in my world, I wouldn’t have done it.” Over her shoulder I watched Sunnie stand back ringing her fingers looking over at us. I don’t think the reality of Aleyah’s stance hit until today. Her sister spoke and moved along without a care in the world.
“Yes, you would’ve, Zeek, because you’re in love. And a man in love wants to mend the heart of the woman he loves however he can. Our problems aren’t yours. I’ve said my peace, I’ve moved on. Now, you need to be the balm to heal her heart and fill the spaces that once included me.” Stepping back but keeping our hands tangled, she looked over at Bishop who stood quietly observing our exchange. “Take care of my friend, Bishop. He’s dear to my heart. Whenever you need me, I’m here for you, Zeek.” One kiss to my cheek and she was gone.
“My condolences to you and your family, Ezekial.” Approaching and standing next to his father, Khiver outstretched his hand.
Though he and I were only acquainted through Bishop, I knew who his sons were and even been to a few listening parties hosted by Khiver for Kellon.
Respectfully, I shook his hand. “Thank you. We appreciate it.”
Instead of releasing my hand when I released his, he squeezed tighter. Stepping closer until he and I were chest to chest. “Do you love her?” His question creased my brows.
“Aleyah? I love her as my friend, but not in a romantic sense.” His sudden change of disposition tripped me out. His eyes were cold and callous. Posture straight and his hand on the verge of breaking my damn bones. He was in a position of defense, and I wasn’t sure why.
“How deeply involved are you with her sister?” The stealth of his tone had me taking a step back and yanking my hand from his grasp.
“Yo, Khiver, what’s going on? I don’t have no beef with Aleyah or Sunnie. What have…”
He eyes became dark and nose flared. “I don’t play about a lot of things and my woman is at the top of that list.” His woman? “Aleyah, she’s my heart. My world. My everything. Love will cause you to stand anchored in her front and her back ready to annihilate any threat trying to darken her brightest of days. Now, let me tell you something about family. Aleyah’s sister? She’s been pulling some foul moves for years, and it ain’t sitting right with me. ‘Cause when she hurts, I hurt, and I don’t take kindly to anyone messing with my emotions. She told me briefly about the conversation she had with her sister and I began making sure those who intentionally hurt her never breathe again.” His left eye twitched, and I stood there in complete shock.
This man just admitted out loud that he put a hit out on Sunnie.
Who in the hell does that?
“The way I’m feeling right now makes me want to add your name to that list since she was in your home when that last conversation took place.” He stepped closer illuminating all space. “Listen to me good, Ezekiel. My old man had a way of dealing with enemies that was downright legendary. And let me tell you, I inherited more than just his name. So when I tell you I’m holding back from wiping out your girl and everything you stand for, you better believe it. Take what I say very personal because the same way you want to protect her sister is the same way I want to protect my lady. There’s no one in her corner willing to go toe to toe with her demons but me. Don’t make an enemy out of me. Keep her away from Aleyah and I mean that or your family will be getting two uses out of these custom suits. Now,” He rotated his neck and shook his shoulders out. “Let’s lay your mother to rest, shall we?” He patted my shoulder and started helping Bishop direct everyone to their cars.
“Hey, are you okay?” Sunnie saw the entire exchange but kept a distance to not be able to overhear.
Clearing my throat, I looked around for our limo and grabbed her hand. “Yeah, I’m good. Come on.”
Thanks to Khiver and his threat, I spent the twenty-minute drive thinking about everything. My mind overthinking and over-analyzing everything that the gloom of going to the burial sight hadn’t resurfaced in my mind. I wasn’t privy to the conversation Sunnie and Aleyah had, but I’d been filled in once Aleyah left. Only given one side to the story. It was one thing to hear Sunnie openly and verbally confess to her negative ways regarding her sister, but to actually see how her words caused Aleyah so much pain. It turned me off. She triggered the fuck out of me, listening to her trash mouth and disrespect Aleyah like she was some bitch off the street. Reminded so much of how my dad speaks to me. PTSD was real in my life right now. I wanted to go off on her ass and check her real quick, but I realized she was fighting demons. Some real demons and she didn’t even know it. She said that me having sex with multiple women had created soul ties, but she never once mentioned her shit.
It’s not a good feeling knowing your loved one intentionally causes you pain and feels happy doing it.
Part of me wanted to drop Sunnie where she was and never speak to her again, but who was I to judge and cast stones? I’d rather help guide her the best I can than abandon her when she needed someone, most especially with Khiver lurking in the shadows wanting to annihilate her for hurting Aleyah.
I was well aware that Sunnie lived a double life. To everyone else, she had no filter and wore her resting bitch face as a badge of honor. She fought with no need for a reason to and had no problem airing someone’s dirty laundry with an added theatric display if someone tried to play in her face. However, I never saw those sides of Sunnie. She never had the attitude I’ve seen in countless videos blasted on the internet. With me, she gave me her vulnerability and fears. She gave me the soft woman who had no problem submitting to me. So hearing her talk about her feelings about Aleyah, that shit blew my mind.
I was experiencing the real Sunnie, and I didn’t like it.
“How can you be so evil? Do you hate your mother that much?”
It was too good to be true.
We made it through my mother’s entire service and burial without my dad showing his ass and, of course, he waits until we get to the repast to put on a fucking show. He barely uttered a word when Bishop instructed Jeremiah and me to sit next to him as the burial service began. He never uttered a word when we laid roses on her casket and watched the city workers lower it six feet in the ground. He never said a word. But now, in the ballroom where the repast was being held with all of our family and friends, he decided this was the pivotal moment to express his hate for me.
I’d barely stepped inside, and he was gunning for me.
“Dad.” Exhausted, my shoulders and head dropped. I wasn’t in the mood for his shit.
“No son of mine would’ve done the things you’ve done.” He seethed, spit flying, and drunken feet stumbling. “I told you, you weren’t invited, and you still disrespect me anyway by bringing one of your prostitutes. Continuing to bring shame to the family by bringing a common whore. Your mother ain’t even cold in the grave and you’re already…”
“Zeek, no.” Sunnie gasped, moving out the way as my fist connected to my dad’s nose and eye.
I’m tired.
Sick and tired of this man’s shit.
“Yo, who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?” I yelled in his face, spitting out the same disrespect he’d given me. Gurgling and wiggling like the little bitch he was, I hemmed him up higher on the wall until his feet were off the ground, dangling like a true bitch. “Your problems are with me, not her. Don’t ever in your sorry ass life disrespect her or me, do you understand?” He continued to try and pry my hands from his neck, not giving me the answer I wanted. “Do you understand me?”
“Yes.” He choked.
I stared into his eyes. Weak and pathetic. I’ve been trying to please him my entire life and he wasn’t even worth the sacrifice.
Releasing him, he fell to the ground coughing and wheezing. Looking around at all the watchful eyes, waiting for someone to come to his rescue, but no one did. Stumbling to his feet, my brother tried to help him, but he wanted to be a prideful ass. “Get the fuck off me!” He tried to tuck in his wrinkled shirt, walking out, cussing under his breath.
“Time to eat,” Leann announced, and everything went back to normal.
But it wasn’t normal.
Nothing about this day was normal.
First attending my mom’s funeral, being threatened by Khiver, fighting my dad, and now what?
“I apologize for my dad. Please don’t take his drunken words to heart.” Jeremiah apologized to Sunnie, who tried to keep a smile.
“It’s okay. Um, I’m going to make us some plates. There’s a car service outside ready to take us home. Wait for me, okay?” Her soft lips on my cheek gave me permission to finally exhale and breathe.
I needed to feel her close to me.
Bringing her into my chest, my arms secured her to me and my hands caressed her neck and back. My poor baby was trying to make sure I was okay, forgetting about herself. Putting my needs before hers, shaking body and all. It wasn’t long before our inhales and exhales aligned and we were in sync. Standing in the entryway of the ballroom embracing and soothing.
“I love you, Sunnie Mae.” God knows I did.
With every fiber in my body, she owned me.
“I love you too, Ezekiel.” Cupping my face in her hands, she rested her head against mine. “Go wait in the car for me, okay? I’ll be out shortly.” I didn’t want to let her go. Just a few more minutes, that’s all I needed.
“Don’t make me wait long.” A kiss to her lips and I was following her orders, ready to go home and get away from all the madness.
Like she promised, Sunnie came out with two plastic bags full of to-go containers. As mouth watering as it smelled, my appetite hadn’t shown up. To be honest, I’m kinda glad. The way my anxiety and emotional state had been all day, I knew the first morsel of food would have me throwing up.
“Come. Let me take care of you.” Sunnie placed the bags of food on the kitchen counter and walked me to my bedroom where she hit the remote to roll down my blackout curtains and lit a Palo Santo candle I had sitting on my dresser. “Relax for me.” A small nudge to my stomach, I laid back on our air mattress ready to rest my eyes.
A cup of lean and a few blunts sounded hella good right now.
Drink my pain away, numb my thoughts.
Only taking off her heels and duster coat, she undressed me until I stood naked before her. The atmosphere shifted, creating a mood of relaxation and reprieve. Her eyes wandered up my body, and a smile of contentment and appreciation curved her lips. “You’re such a beautiful man, Zeek.” Her cool lips to the middle of my chest caused chills to cover my body and my dick to jump. Inside the bathroom, she ran me a bath and left me to myself once I settled back in the jacuzzi-size tub. Lights were dimmed and soft jazz music filled the surrounding spaces.
In the privacy of my bathroom, I released. Broke down and cried, trying to compete and fill the tub with my tears of sorrow. Today was a fucking lot and tomorrow it would only get heavier. I needed my mom. I needed her to tell me that becoming a father wasn’t going to kill me or the kid. I needed her reassurance that God didn’t make a mistake and He chose me to be this kid’s father for a reason. I needed her to tell me how to navigate my love for Sunnie and shift our friendship into a deeper meaning.
I needed my fucking mom.