Lauren was an event planner. She had built her career on being the best at meticulous execution. She should be the one to do this, but no way could she do it. What a task to ask a mother. Who would be so cruel to put that expectation on her plate? She couldn’t sit at a table and choose between the finishes of caskets for her child. She couldn’t organize a program to say goodbye. She shook her head.
“I can’t.”
Demi nodded, fighting down his own torment to keep hers in check. “I can’t leave you alone here, Lo,” he said. He didn’t trust her not to harm herself. The shock was too new, the wound too deep. The emotion hadn’t diluted even a bit. The intoxication of heartbreak would force Lauren to make bad decisions. “I’m going to have to start making some calls. Let the family know, your mama. Get some people in here around us. We can’t do this by ourselves.”
The thought of dealing with relatives—her mother, especially, was a burdensome task. The relationship was strained, hostile even, but he knew Lauren needed her around. DJ was her grandchild. There was no excluding the woman from this goodbye. A funeral would be the thing that brought a family back together. It was a bad habit of Black families, to let time pass only to be forced to reunite over death. Why couldn’t the good things bring distant relatives around?
Lauren couldn’t even speak to agree. Demi felt like he was expecting too much from her. Lauren was only good to exist right now. Asking anything else would be setting her up for failure.
“You want to ride with me for a minute? Hmm?” he asked, lifting her chin with one finger. She shook her head, declining him, but he had to move around. Things needed to be done, and they couldn’t wait. He feared that if he left, when he returned, he would find her body, and that, he couldn’t risk. “Ride shotgunwith a nigga like you used to. We ain’t did that in a long time, Lo. I want to be here for you, but I’m fucked up too. My mind sending me to places that make me want to kill somebody. I need you to keep me leveled, too, Lo. You ain’t got to do nothing but sit and ride. We ain’t even got to talk. Okay?”
Just the blink of her eyes sent tears sliding down her cheeks. She nodded, and he retrieved everything she would need. Her purse, her coat, her shoes, a hat, and her phone. He grabbed his coat next andretrieved his shoes by the door. He paused because a pair of DJ’s boots sat next to his own. It was the simplest trigger, but it was all it took to hollow his soul. He sucked in a desperate breath and then ushered Lauren out the door.
Demi’s eyes never left the road, and Lauren stared out her window as they made their way to the funeral home. They were two parents, two people, navigating through the fog that existed in the lapse between the living and the un-living. Forever broken. Forever bonded.
Charlie didn’t know what to feel. Throughout her relationship with Demi, she hadn’t really connected with DJ. She had wanted to, but the tension that existed when they were in the same room made it hard for her to break through to him. She hated that she hadn’t been given more time to earn his affection. She hated that she hadn’t redeemed his trust. Now, it was too late, and the memory of him made her sick to her stomach because in what reality was this normal? She ached for Demi, and she wished she could just wrap her arms around Lo. She wished they had space for her support, but she knew there was none and that ostracization felt like the loneliest place on earth.
To love someone and be excluded from their grieving was hurtful. Charlie was trying her hardest to be understanding.
Night had transformed to morning, and the stars yielded to the sun, yet no news had come. She reluctantly dialed Demi’s number.
“The person you have dialed has not set up this voicemail…”
He wasn’t taking any calls. Not even hers.
She opened a new text thread.
Charlie
I just want to make sure you’re okay. Please call me.
A few seconds passed before she saw activity on her screen. The bubbles dancing on her phone matched the flutters in her stomach.
Demi
I’m okay.
That was it. Two words. No added information. No update on what was happening. No instructions for her. No reveal of where he was. Just two fucking words. Charlie didn’t know if that was helpful or if it was worse than not hearing from him at all.
Charlie
I just want you to know that I’m here.
Charlie waited and waited. Demi went to type a response, but when no message came through andthe bubbles stopped, tears filled her eyes. This was catastrophic. The amount of relief she felt when her phone vibrated in her hand wasn’t normal. It wasn’t healthy. She shouldn’t be dependent on a phone call to breathe.
Demi
I know, Bird. I’ma be home as soon as I can. Honestly, don’t know how long I’ma be.
Walking into this funeral home.
Charlie dropped a tear at what she knew was about to unfold when he saw his son.
Charlie
I love you.
Demi
