Always (Bold As Love 4)
“One day Drake, you'll be in the same position and you'll look back and think, 'Damn. They weren't sick after all,'” I tell him.
“Yeah, right. I'm still convinced all girls, but Emily and Mom, are gross.”
“Yeah. Mom wasn't gross at all, Drake.”
It's like a sucker punch to my gut, hearing Drake say that. He hasn't talked about Mom in a long time. Emily squeezes me before turning around as the fireworks explode, leaning into me once more. This fourth feels special and final. As if this is the last fourth I'll spend with Sweetness and Drake here. As if this is the last year of normalcy, which it kind of is. That makes me want to enjoy it even
more.
To savor the feel of Emily against me, Drake beside me, and the fireworks whistling as they launch into the sky as we celebrate this holiday. I lean to speak into Emily's ear and ask if she wants to spend the night with me.
“I guess so.”
Tilting my head, she finally looks at me without really looking at me. “Why do you sound so defeated?”
“We'll talk about it later. I don't want to tell you now when we can't really hash it out.”
“But everything is okay, right?” I ask.
“Yes, everything is just fine.”
I'm anxious about being home because I want to know what is going on with Sweetness. She's my world and something isn't right, causing my world to be off kilter. Whatever it is, I want to fix it. I want to make her feel better. Make whatever it is go away so I can see her smile again.
We watched a movie in Drake's room until he fell asleep. Dad's out at who knows where as he has been since Jersey and Emily and I are making our way back to my room. Lying in bed, I have my arms wrapped securely around her as if she might attempt to get out of talking to me. When she doesn't say anything after about five minutes, I do.
“Sweetness, tell me what's going on.”
She rolls over, hides in the crook of my neck and whispers, “What are we going to do? If you get the contract, I mean? I've already signed up for classes next semester in Charlotte. You have too.”
Oh. Okay. That I can handle, and I let out a breath of relief.
“I would love more than anything for you to come with me. Let's just wait out on the details until we know for sure.”
“Okay. I promised Dad that I would spend the day with him tomorrow. Can I come over afterwards?”
“Sure thing.”
“Thanks, love.”
With that, we drift asleep.
Drake is waiting anxiously to play a game, and I can't say no. As usual, it is a racing game. We leisurely lay on the floor and race one another. It's a relaxing evening with no worries about anything other than winning or losing to Drake. Emily comes home around 10 and by the sleepy eyes, sluggish movements, and drooping shoulders, I can tell that my Sweetness is exhausted.
“Time to hit the hay, Drake,” I say. He doesn't huff, sigh, or complain. He does just as I ask and gets ready for bed. The night feels off as everything seems to be falling too perfectly in place. Entering my room, Sweetness is already in bed with her eyes closed. She's laying in the fetal position with her hands together, resting under her cheeks. Closing the door behind me, I lift my shirt up and over my head, tossing it on the floor carelessly. Next, I unbutton my shorts and let them fall to the floor. Stepping out of them, I crawl into bed beside Emily. I feel content, even though my dad is out there somewhere instead of being home. Within seconds, she snuggles up to me and begins subtly to cry.
“What's wrong, Sweetness?”
“Nothing,” she sniffles. “I just felt like crying a bit. Love you,” she finishes in a whisper as she finds her favorite spot.
“I love you too. Always, Sweetness.” My hands move up and down her back. The motion is so soothing that it sways me to sleep.
“Jake! Wake up! There's an officer at the door asking for you.” Bolting upright at the sound of Drake's voice, I'm out of bed in one swift motion. Hurriedly, I put on some shorts and then take two steps at a time as I go downstairs. Sure enough, an elderly cop is at my door.
“Can I help you?” I ask.
“This is the Benson residence, correct?” I nod. “Where's your mother?” he asks, eyeing me suspiciously.
“She died a couple of years ago.”