“Shit you say. I know where I put my shit and you been coming in here fuckin’ with it. You and your momma,” Ernie huffed, clearly irritated by something.
“Ernie, you don’t have a cane for that suit?” Remedy asked, redirecting his focus. “Go get it. I’m putting these in my car.”
“Nah, help me find my damn gun. Give it to that stealing nigga. He wants to be here so fucking bad, make his ass work. He probably needs the community service hours anyway. Hoodlum ass.”
“Says the nigga pimping out my momma.” Erys’ response was a rumble but heard, nonetheless.
Ernie roared. “I ain’t never pimped out Cherie!”
Remedy shot Erys a silencing glare and shoved the weight of the prewashed, bagged clothes into his chest. “You got to learn how to shut the fuck up if you’re going to be dealing with him. Got damn,” she grunted, before walking to Ernie. “Let’s find that cane so we can go.”
“Talkin’ about I pimped out his momma. I pimped a lot of bitches, his momma was never one. Now I got to call her and tell her to stop telling my boy this bullshit,” Ernie fussed loudly, as Remedy directed him down the hall.
“I hear you. Where is your cane? Do you need a hat? I don’t want you to get too hot,” Remedy posed, opening his creaky closet door.
“I don’t want no gotdamn hat. I want his ass out my house before him and his hoodlum ass friends steal something else!” Ernie roared.
It was clear Ernie was still seeing his son as a misguided teenaged boy. And while Remedy didn’t have any good qualities of Erys to direct him to nor did she care to redirect him to other feelings, she knew calming him down would make for a better day. For him, at least.
Remedy gently grabbed his hand and stood in front of him. “I would like to go to the laundromat with you today and then go to the diner. Didn’t you say you wanted the breakfast plate with the biscuits and gravy?”
The goal, since she’d taken on this role as his official unofficial caregiver, was to calm and redirect him. While shespoke, she was checking his blood pressure. The more she rolled out their day, the calmer he became.
“Yeah, where we going after that? Back to the club?” he posed.
Remedy flashed him a faint smile. “You enjoyed yourself?”
“Yeah, I felt like I was a young cat again. They don’t make asses like they used to though,” Ernie stated, making Remedy laugh softly.
“Those are called BBLs, Ernie,” she shared, releasing his hand and arm and grabbing his hat. “And before you ask, no I don’t have one.”
Ernie snickered. “Remember I knew May. I knew May well.”
Remedy frowned, the thought of her late-grandmother and Ernie together threatened to turn her stomach. “Okay, that’s enough.”
“Can you make those smothered pork chops like May?”
Remedy barely nodded. “And her greens, and macaroni and cheese. I’m sure if I try, I can remember how to make her biscuits too.”
“Now how the hell can you make all of that and don’t have no men knocking down your door?” Ernie posed, taking his hat from her hand and placing it atop his head.
“You keep shooting guns and running them all off,” Remedy joked. “You ready?”
“Where we going after the diner?” he asked again.
“I’m off tonight so wherever you want.”
“They still got three dollar movies?” Ernie asked. The theater that hosted those was long gone now. But she could use the app to purchase tickets and tell him they were three dollars.
“Yeah, sure. Is your son coming along?” Remedy questioned, finding the playfulness in his eyes.
“We can shake him. Let’s roll, baby,” Ernie said, striding out of his room, down the hall and to the front door. Eryswas outside, leaned against his truck. The pair ignored him and started to Remedy’s car where all the bags of clothes should’ve been.
“I’m driving. And since he insists on not going anywhere without you, the clothes are in the back,” Erys spoke up, not lifting his eyes from his phone. He didn’t need to, Remedy preferred him not looking at her, let alone talking to her.
She looked up at Ernie and huffed. It was a double edged sword – she wanted him calm and his blood pressure reflecting that, but she also knew how she felt not having access to her family and this father-son relationship was in need of deep repair. “You got shotgun.”
“I don’t want to sit next to that nigga!” Ernie protested.
