“No, but I don’t have a choice. Can you give me a minute with him?” I ask, placing my hand on her lower back as we stand. She searches my face and gives a quick nod before kissing me on the cheek. Even with her being in heels, I had to bend to give her a kiss. My little fucking woman.
“Yeah, I’ll be right outside.” I nod and put my hands in my pockets, watching her leave me until she’s no longer in view. Releasing a heavy breath from deep in my chest, I walk up and say my last good-byes to the man who raised me. The memory of walking away from his casket will haunt me forever. The last good-bye to him will echo in my mind for all of time. Losing my father will forever be a ragged cut in my heart.
Good-bye, Pops.
Shayla
I LEAVE TREY ALONE WITH his father, knowing he needs privacy to say whatever he needs to, that he didn’t already. I can’t imagine what he’s feeling. My chest burns when I even think of my father dying. I can only imagine what his reality feels like right now.
I see Kings standing next to my dad and Lana, taking one glance back into the church before I head to them. More tears falling when I see Trey talking to his dad’s casket, it’s like watching a broken man talk to angels, full of sorrow, yet, full of prayer. Standing beside him, with her head on his shoulder is Kathy. Trey pulls her into his side then kisses her forehead, the sight so raw—beautifully heartbreaking.
I’m so sorry, Trey.
“Hey, princess, that was a beautiful speech you did back there for Charles,” my dad says, pulling me into a bear hug, he’s so big I get lost in him. I soak up every second that he has me embraced in his arms.
“Thanks, I wanted to make it a good one.”
“You did, sis.” Kingston pats my shoulder, his taller frame next to me, keeping me sandwiched between him and my father.
“Yeah, it was great, babe.” Lana stands across from us, giving me a genuine smile. Kingston reaches his arm out and pulls Lana in and it feels so dang good to see them supporting each other instead of fighting, for once.
“Thanks, guys.”
We’re making small talk about all the sweet things people said today when Kingston interrupts us abruptly. Grabbing our full attention.
“What the fuck is she doing here?” We all turn in the direction Kingston is looking. When my eyes find the assailant, I almost drop dead.
“Is that Gwen? Trey’s mom?” I raise my voice in shock.
“Unless those pictures that used to hang in Trey’s house were of someone else, then you bet your sweet ass it is.” Kingston’s right, that’s the woman from the pictures Charles had hanging in his house until he met Kathy. I watch her walk up the steps, making her way into the church when I yell out, picking up speed toward her. My flight or fight instincts kicking in. When I am within a few feet from her, I call out toward her again.
“Hey! Can I help you?” I can’t even attempt to hide my disbelief. I’m furious that she’s here after all this time and on this day of all freaking days. She’s incorrigible.
“I’m sorry, but who are you?” She pops her hip out and places her dragon nails on top of it. Her voice sounds like nails on a chalkboard, and I have to fight the urge to plug my ears.
This trick.
“You must have not understood my question so let me rephrase it, what in the hell are you doing here?” The back of my neck feels hot and my chest feels like it’s breaking out in hives. I don’t do so well with confrontation, especially where Trey is involved and even more so on the day of his father’s funeral. I can’t believe she thinks she can just show up; honestly, I’m certain I’m hallucinating at this point.
“Well, you’re a delightful peach, but I’m Trey’s mother. Now, who are you?” I’m about to give her a verbal lashing if there ever was one, but we’re interrupted, halting my plans.
“Gwen?” We both turn our heads in the direction of Trey’s voice. Kathy stands just to the side, in front of him, her fist balling up as she stares in astonishment. Her motherly instincts on high alert. Shoot, I thought I looked scary, mad—nope. I’ve never seen her look so…violent.
“Trey…” Gwen whispers before covering her mouth.
“What are you doing here?” He meets us were we stand on the steps, Kathy following suit, keeping her hand in Trey’s. I think we’re all waiting for her to answer that damn question. Everyone in our tight group is standing around us, witnessing the mess unfolding.
“Look at you, you’re so big, you’re not a little boy anymore,” she says through a sob.
“No shit, Gwen, that’s what happens when you grow up. Remember, you walked out when I was six with no call or anything for eighteen years, so yeah, I’m not a little boy anymore. Honestly, I don’t even know why the hell you’re here and I don’t care. I’m disgusted that you had the nerve to show up here, today of all days.” I watch him tell her this and I’m stunned that he looks more vulnerable than upset. I was expecting anger; I expected confusion. But instead, I see defeat. You’d think after all the things she put him through emotionally and mentally the past eighteen years, he’d be more angry and full of questions. But surprisingly, he isn’t and it only makes me worry about him more.
“Trey, we need to talk, I know this is completely out of the blue, but we need to talk. Your dad…”
I watch the point where sadness leaves and rage is replaced on his once composed face. Stepping to her, he shoves his finger inches from her round face.
“Don’t! Don’t you dare talk about my father and act like you knew him. I’m not doing this with you, you keep my father’s name out of your damn mouth!” Storming away toward the car, I watch him le
ave.