She made a face at me. “It depends. You know she has good days and she has bad days. On the good, she’s more independent. More… lucid. Still quiet, but you know… better. Because I never really know what type of day we’ll have, I ask her if she wants me to wash her up. When she reaches for the rag, I know it’s a good day. You know… lately, she’s been having more bad days than good. So…”
“I’m not trippin about washin’ no ass.”
I wasn’t. She was my ma. And while other niggas would look at the situation and go hell naw, I didn’t. Life and circumstances put her in the position she was in. Shit… put us in this position. Genesis had been the only one looking after moms since she went from bad to worse a couple of years ago. She needed a break. Regardless of if she had a birthday trip or not.
“Okay bro. I’m just trying to make you aware. She’ll need her brief changed too.”
I ran my hand over the top of my waves. “Just show me everything I need to do.”
Mentally, I was fully prepared to take care of her. Changing diapers, bathing her… that kind of shit didn’t phase me. Didn’t move me at all. She was my OG. The queen. First lady. I would go to the end of the earth for her. I had never bathed an ass that wasn’t mine. Had never changed a diaper neither. I was willing to learn though. My focus was doing a good job. Fuck the uncomfortable shit.
CHAPTER 5
SEREIA
“You ready?”asked Lakeland, peeking her head through my bedrooms door.
I smoothed my hands down the front of the wide legged pants I had on and looked over my shoulder at her. “Yeah… they here?”
“Yep. Just pulled up.”
Today was Meech’s funeral. And while I was dressed, I wasn’t actually ready. My heart broke a little more every time I thought about what I was getting ready to do. See my brother for the last time. Put him in the fucking dirt. What? What was life? I… wow. I was in utter disbelief. So much that every couple of minutes or so, the realization of reality hit me right in the middle of my chest. Disassociating and evading had been my go-to since he was murdered. However, there was no running from it today. I had to face reality head on. And my God was that an uncomfortable feeling.
After finger-combing the big barrel curls Zariah did last night, I took a deep breath and turned to leave the bedroom. The weight of my ballerina slides felt heavy on my feet with every step I took. My anxiety was rising. But the sound of my familyin the living room drowned out the sound of my racing, heavy beating heart.
“Ready niece?” asked Auntie Danielle.
“Hold up,” said another one of my aunties, Charlene. “Who doin’ the livestream for D?”
The apartment went silent. D—otherwise known as Demetrius Sr.—was my daddy. And Charlene was his older sister. Every set of eyes in the room landed on her.
I tilted my head to the side a bit and said, “Nobody. The fuck. I said I wasn’t doing no livestream for him. So… I don’t know why he wasted them peoples time with that request.”
For the most part, I respected my elders. But Charlene was really starting to get on my nerves. As soon as I called her about the funeral, she got to talking about ways our daddy could be a part of it. Because he was constantly in trouble, at a level five prison, him getting out to attend it was next to impossible, so she got to talkin about livestream options. I let her know off rip that I didn’t want my daddy to be a part of it. Why would I? I hadn’t talked to or seen him since he killed my mama. Yes. He killed my mother. Murdered her for no reason. The fuck did she think he deserved to be at the funeral for? Virtually… in person… he had no right to be there. Meech would have felt the same way. Fuck him. It was because of him that Meech was dead in the first place. If he wouldn’t have killed my momma, he wouldn’t be in jail, and Meech wouldn’t have felt obligated to hit licks. I could be wrong but that’s the way I saw it. It was a domino effect.
“Sereia—”
“Uh, uh. She said no. She said no. Leave it alone, Charlene,” Auntie Danielle said, speaking up.
Auntie Danielle was quick to say something because she’d been itching for a reason to lay hands on somebody from my daddy’s side of the family. Not because they did something toher… not personally anyway. She just wanted to do damage to one of them because of what Demetrius Sr. did to her sister.
But see, Auntie Danielle didn’t need to say anything. Charlene only had one more time to say something else to me about that nigga and her ass wouldn’t be allowed at the funeral neither. But she didn’t utter another word about it. Good.
The walk downstairs to the family car doubled as awkward and heartbreaking. It was as if everybody in The Woods was out. Eyes were on me. A couple of people offered condolences for what felt like the millionth time. Others just watched, whispering about how Meech’s funeral was today. I passed Hood and a couple of other niggas dressed in all black. They yelled for me to hold my head up and said they would see me in a little bit. All I did was nod at everyone.
Just as I was getting ready to get into the car, I heard Desiree yell for us to wait. I looked over my shoulder in her direction and took a deep breath at the sight of her and the kids running towards the cars. There were two. Exodus gave me ten thousand dollars to help towards the funeral. I paid for the casket, Meech’s burial clothes, the obituaries, and the work the funeral home did. The service was being held at Greater Faith Baptist, Solomon, Exodus’s brothers church. So, because I had more than enough, I got two family cars instead of one. Mainly because I knew Desiree would need a ride. She didn’t have a damn car. I wasn’t judging—I didn’t have a car neither. But she had three kids so…
“What the hell is this bitch wearing?” Mumbled Lake.
“She doin’ the absolute fuckin’ most,” Commented Alani.
“Fuck she think this is?” My other cousin, Kiera said.
She was doing the most. Desiree was dressed in a black mid-length dress and a pair of platformed heeled sandals. That was fine. But the bitch had on a black veil, too. Not only was that an issue, but she had the kids dressed down in a pair of terry clothshorts and black RIP Daddy shirts that had my brothers face on them. I was immediately irritated. More irritated by the t-shirts than I was by the veil. I specifically told everybody I didn’t want my brother on a fucking shirt. It didn’t sit well with me. There was something about the energy attached to that that made me uncomfortable. I didn’t give a fuck about homage. There were other ways to show respect. I really just did not want to see my brother on a shirt. You know how many faces are on shirts out this bitch? I did not want my brother to be one of them.
When they got to the car, I started to mention it, but I was too emotionally exhausted to. Instead, I stared at them, Not them per se—those shirts. At my brothers smiling face. A rare sighting. Demetria and D3 were the only souls on earth who could get a genuine smile out of him. Meech was a lot of things, but a deadbeat father wasn’t one of them.
About twenty minutes later, we were pulling into the parking lot at the church. It was crowded. Very crowded. Auntie Danielle made a comment about it, but I didn’t say anything although I wondered why they were here so early too. The service didn’t start for another thirty minutes. Now was family hour. In addition to the plethora of cars in the lot, there were two cop cars. Of course it was. I hadn’t been to a funeral since my mama died, but something told me that the majority of funerals held in Brickhaven had police presence. Especially if the person died by murder.
