The Hearts We Burn

by Briana Cole

  Adria. Damn, I was so happy to know she was alive. She would be waiting for me, for us, at the gate and seeing her would be the first semblance of reality that I was yearning for. That I was really home and this entire ordeal was finally over. I had been in the hospital for a few days and we hadn’t talked very much but through Detective Terry and her team as they made plans for my travel. But I was assured, much to my surprise, she would be there waiting. All ill feelings aside. I was safe and so was she. That alone settled my anxiety.

  The boys woke up, cranky of course, as soon as we touched down, and Detective Terry and I shifted between them and gathering our belongings from the overhead compartment. A few parting words from the pilot and before I knew it, we were making our way through the tunnel and up the ramp towards the gate.

  As soon as we made it down to baggage claim, Keon and Adria both rose from the seating area. My smile bloomed, and I felt the first few tears spurt free. Adria was nearly in a dead run as she pushed through the other passengers until she was able to reach me. She threw her arms around my neck, and I could only stand there as we both shared a joyous cry. Damn, it was so good to see her.

  “I’m sorry, girl,” she pulled back and used her fingers to wipe her tears from her cheeks. “I’m just so happy to see you.” She fingered my hair, now dangling longer than usual at my neck.

  “I’m cutting it as soon as I can,” I said reading her mind. I took a good look at Adria. She had definitely lost weight since the last time and though I wasn’t sure if it was intentional or not, at least she looked happy.

  Adria turned her attention to Jamal in my arms and without a second thought, scooped him up and nuzzled his neck. Jamal giggled and reached for her face, cupping his mouth around her nose. “Aw, I missed you too,” she gushed.

  “Mama?”

  The voice was tiny, uncertain and I looked down at Leo Jr. standing puzzled by the new people and attention. Poor thing almost looked frightened. I bent down to pick him up, settling him on my hip.

  “Adria, this is Leo Jr.,” I introduced as the boy stared curiously. “Leo Jr. this is your Auntie.”

  I could see something in Adria’s eyes, really brief and subtle, before she smiled. Was it hesitancy? I know Leo Jr. was yet another reminder of my indiscretions, and no he wasn’t biologically mine but blood couldn’t have made this child any more of my son. I was sure that was probably going to be a little bit of a shock at first to everyone.

  But to my surprise, Adria used her free arm to wrap around Leo Jr. and plant a sloppy kiss on his cheek. “Hey, LJ,” she greeted.

  Leo Jr. frowned at the nickname. “I’m Leo,” he corrected with a confused pout, his chubby two-year-old finger pointing to himself.

  Adria laughed. “Really? Because I was going to take LJ to get some ice cream.”

  That brightened up his face and Leo Jr.’s grin split. “Okay, I’m LJ.”

  I pulled Adria in for another hug and at the same time as if we were one half of the same brain, we both whispered in each other’s ear, “I love you, Sis.”

  Adria was thrilled to take the kids to the park and eat pizza and ice cream while Keon drove me to visit my mother. I had to admit, it was weird sitting there next to my brother again. Even weirder when he reached over the console to hold my hand as we rode in silence.

  He had filled me in on the loss of his twin girls, and I felt sick to my stomach knowing Tyree, hell if I had to admit it, that I was the cause of his daughters’ deaths. He skirted around some things going on with Adria, I made a note to myself to catch up with her about it later, but he did assure me they were getting their marriage back on track. A shock to me because I didn’t even know their marriage had gotten off the rails. Then, could I really be that surprised? Nothing had been the same in the past couple years. Hell, nothing would ever be the same. Tragedy had snatched my family apart at the seams, but that same tragedy was slowly piecing us back together. But at least I could feel good knowing they were trying to get it together and I would be sure to encourage that in any way possible. My brother and best friend belonged together. Soulmates. Speaking of soulmates . . .

  “How is Jahmad?” I didn’t care if the question sounded entirely too desperate, too obvious. Keon knew our history and though I was fearful of the response, I needed to know, for my own sanity.

  My brother paused but didn’t take his eyes from the road. “He’s grieving in his own way,” he answered finally. “But he was shocked as hell to find out what had happened to you and Jamal.”

  He hadn’t meant for the words to warm my heart, but they did. I smiled. “I’m going to see him.”

  “Kimmy . . .” Keon stopped at a red light and shifted in the seat to look at me directly. “So much has changed. I don’t want you to get your hopes up.”

  He hadn’t said it, but I read his concern for what it was. Jahmad had moved on, I’m sure with CeeCee, though it honestly didn’t matter at this point. I was a thing of the past and me reinserting myself back into his life wouldn’t do anything but cause more confusion. And the last thing I wanted to do was open a sore he had managed to heal. We all needed to do some healing anyway.

  Keon didn’t say anything else nor did I inquire further. I just nodded, my smile still in place. Surprisingly, I was at genuine peace and maybe even a little lifted knowing Jahmad had found his happily ever after. I felt bad enough knowing my disappearance had damaged Adria and Keon’s life. So Jahmad’s moving on wasn’t good news for me, but good news nonetheless. He deserved it.

  I gave Keon’s hand a reassuring pat. “I know,” I said simply and that was enough for our mutual understanding.

  Keon dropped me off at an assisted living facility called Golden Gates. I asked did he want to go in with me, but he declined, stating I needed this little bit of time alone. As much as I would have rather had him by my side, I knew he was right.

  My mother’s health had severely deteriorated over the past few months. I didn’t even recognize the woman lying in the bed. She looked weak, nearly pale against the pastel pink-colored sheets. As if she wasn’t even the First Lady. Then again, she hadn’t been the same since my father passed. Really since the whole ordeal with me began, if I could be honest. None of us had been the same. As we all went through our own private mental damages, it was clear my mother suffered the most, mentally, physically, and emotionally.

  Her eyes were closed and at one point, I wouldn’t have even known she was breathing with the exception of the subtle rise and fall in her chest. A ghost of a smile flitted on her lips, and I wondered what, or whom, she was dreaming about.

  A woman, who I assumed was my mother’s nurse, sat beside the bed with an open book in her lap. She looked up as I peeked through the bedroom door and smiled, gesturing for me to join her in the room.

  “Hi,” I greeted. “I’m—”

  “Kimera Davis, right?” The woman finished my sentence while extending her hand. “Keon called and told me y’all were right outside. I’m Jackie, Ms. Davis’s nurse.”

  I shook her hand and looked again to my mother, lowering my voice. “How is she?”

  Jackie’s sigh was slight, but optimistic. “She’s had better days,” she admitted. “But I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you.”

  “Thank you.”

  Jackie moved to the door. “I’ll be right out here in the living room if you need me,” she said and closed the door behind her with a quiet click.

  I remained in place for what seemed like forever before I was able to will my legs to carry me to the side of the bed. Not wanting to wake her and risk disturbing her peace, my steps were slow and hesitant.

  Gently, I lowered myself into the seat that Jackie had just vacated and picked up the book she had left open on the nightstand. Of course, the Bible. Did I expect anything else for the First Lady? The book was open to the fourteenth chapter of John. In neon yellow highlight were scriptures one, two, three, and four. I read them silently to myself, blinking back tears at the words I recognized
.

  “That scripture was from your father’s eulogy.”

  I jumped at the sound of my mom’s voice. As soft as it was, it was still enough to crack through the silence. I kept my head bent low so she couldn’t see my face. Couldn’t see my tears. She hadn’t even needed to remind me. I remembered vividly her standing at the pulpit dressed in her black, her birdcage veil shielding her devastated expression as she sung her praises for the love of Mr. Davis, the pastor, the husband, the dad, and the man.

  I looked over at my mother. Her eyes opened and her smile grew at the sight of me. She lifted her hand in my direction and I grabbed hold of it, almost desperately. It took everything in me not to squeeze for fear of hurting her.

  “Mama, I have missed you so much,” I said, tears clogging my voice. “I’m so sorry for everything. I—”

  “Ssshhh.” She silenced me. “It’s all right. We’re all right. I’m just so glad you’re back and safe.”

  “I was going to bring Jamal. I promise to bring him later. Just wanted to see you myself first.”

  Her smile fell a little, replaced by a brief flicker of confusion. “Jamal,” she questioned.

  “Yes, ma’am. Your grandson.” Apparently, my clarification still didn’t register, and it pained me to watch her expression reflect just how foreign her mind was to her now. The signs of my mother’s deteriorating mental state had my heart crying, but, still, I smiled anyway and just shook my head to dispel the perplexity. “Never mind,” I said, rushing on. “How are you feeling?”

  “I’m doing so much better now,” she said. “I’ll be glad when Keon lets me out of here so I can go home.”

  I knew that wasn’t happening. Still, I nodded along.

  “Your father is doing well too,” she went on. I kept my lips closed so as not to question her thought process. Keon and Adria had already told me she often spoke about my father in present tense. In her mind, he was still alive and well. Everyone had agreed that alone had brought her a sense of peace so to let her have her reality, no matter how false. She needed that right now. Part of me wished there was one I could escape to as well, and there were some memories and experiences I would have loved to forget. I hated losing my mother to this, but that seemed to be the only thing keeping her whole.

  Mama’s sigh was heavy as if took a great deal of strength. I swallowed and, when I felt sure my voice wouldn’t crack with the weight of my burdens, I tightened my grip slightly on her frail fingers, hoping she felt my love through our contact. I whispered, “We love you, Mama. It’s okay. We’re okay. You can go home now.” I knew that was all she needed to hear.

  I left our fingers connected as I dropped my eyes back to the highlighted scripture open in front of me. I hadn’t meant to read out loud, but it was as if my heart needed to feel them and the words tumbled from my mouth as if on their own. “Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me. In my Father’s house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also. And you know the way to where I am going.”

  Chapter 24

  Kimera

  I eyed the headstones and sighed in relief when I saw my dad’s. “Life is not a dress rehearsal. To God be the Glory.” My lips curved at the quote. “Words to live by,” I murmured.

  I took my time, shifting to kneel at the granite. I removed the fresh bouquet of flowers from the plastic bag and tenderly sat the gorgeous blossoms against the tombstone, the crisp white-andred petals an appreciative contrast against the rigid gray. My dad wasn’t even a flower person. But because he always told me to “stop and smell the roses,” the gesture seemed fitting.

  “Sometimes, I wish you were still here,” I said, resting my hand on the ground. “Other times, I’m glad you’re not. Not because I don’t want you to be, but because I know you would hate me for what I am, if that makes sense.” I sighed. “I’m ashamed of things I’ve done, Daddy. Disgraceful things. Things that embarrass me to even think about, honestly. And I guess it hurts even more because I feel you would look at me a certain way. Not judgmental, at all. Just disappointed. And I never wanted to disappoint you, Daddy. I always wanted you to be proud of me as your daughter.” I lifted my head, eyed the rows and rows of markers in systematic succession. “And you’re right,” I went on. “I was almost right out here with you, Daddy. A few times. And that scares the shit out of me. I won’t detail it to you. You would probably roll over in your grave if you knew everything. But, just know that I have changed. I hate it took me as long as it did and I hate it took what it did for my wake-up call. But, I’m still here. I have another opportunity at life, and I’m going to do it right.”

  The wind picked up, brushing my hair from the neat ponytail at the nape of my neck. I pulled my blazer tighter. “Everyone is doing okay, too. Adria comes to visit you all the time so I’m sure you know all about everything with her and Keon. She got on drugs Daddy, but she’s doing so much better and she and my brother are in therapy. Working on piecing together their marriage. They owe it to God, to themselves, but they also feel they owe it to you, Daddy. You officiated their marriage. That meant something. She and I are also working on rebuilding our relationship. Even been talking about opening another Melanin Mystique .” I chuckled. One day at a time. “You have two grandboys now. Not just one. Though I can never really see too much of that oldest one, Leo Jr., or LJ now. Adria has him ALL the time. I think she believes that’s really her baby. Jamal is doing great too. Getting so big.”

  What about you, baby girl?

  I smiled. I could almost hear the question as if my dad had uttered the words out loud. “I’m hanging in there, Daddy,” I answered. “One day at a time. But my story is one for the books, that’s for sure. I’ll have to give you all the details one of these days.”

  I touched my fingers to my lips and laid them on the earth once more. Then, I climbed to my feet. I was completely healed but still, my movements were slow as if I were savoring each and every thing. “I love you, Daddy. I think that’s what I needed to say.”

  I paused, my eyes trailing to the space next to my dad’s. A small smile touched my lips as I nodded my head in that direction. “You take care of him, Mama,” I said to my mother’s grave. “I know he hasn’t been doing right without you.”

  And as if surrounded by their joint chuckles in amusement, I turned, swallowing my grief, and headed back to the parking lot, leaving my parents to rest in Heaven together. Two halves of one soul, reunited.

  I felt like a fool, sitting there trying to psych myself up to go inside. I was meeting up with Adria soon, but I had one more stop to make first. Funny, I had survived jail, murder, kidnapping, and everything else that could happen, did happen to me. So, with every life-threatening circumstance that I had been through, my ass was scared to turn off the car and walk up to a house to speak. The irony.

  I could leave, I reasoned. Just pretend I was never here, turn around and go back home and no one would be the wiser. But that would be a punk ass move. Wasn’t I stronger than that?

  My phone rang, a welcome relief to my mental war, and I grabbed it from my purse. The name on the caller ID brought a smile to my face.

  “Hello?”

  “Kimmy,” Kareem greeted. “How you feeling?”

  I felt silly telling him the truth, especially considering it wasn’t that big of a deal. “Feeling much better now that I’m hearing from you,” I admitted. “Did you touch down safely in Ivory Coast?”

  “Yeah, we flew into Abidjan first. Twenty-four hours later.”

  “Oh, you need to get some rest.”

  “Nah, later for that,” Kareem said with a chuckle. “My first stop is seeing my daughter. I can’t get there quick enough.”

  I smiled, my heart swelling. “I’m so glad you made it safely. She’s going to be so excited.”

  “Yeah.” Spoken like a true
Papa Bear. “How are the boys?”

  I thought of the numerous toys piled into my apartment. There was barely enough room to walk around. “They’re doing great. Loving getting spoiled by their aunt and uncle, that’s for sure.”

  “I bet. And you?”

  I sighed. “I’m hanging in there. One day at a time. It’s so good to be back home.”

  “I feel you.” Kareem commented to someone in his background before coming back to the phone. “So, hey, let me go. I’m about to catch this ride. You sure you’re good? Need anything?”

  “I’m good. Got everything I need right here. And Kareem. Thank you.”

  A pause and I could almost feel him beaming through the phone. “No, thank YOU, Kimmy. For everything. I’ll check on you again soon.”

  We hung up and I couldn’t wipe the stupid grin off my face. Kareem was a great friend and after everything we had endured, our bond was too deep and too strong for us to just part ways and never speak again. He had saved my life. In more ways than one. Anything more than that, well, in his words, you never know.

  I glanced at the house again. Our little conversation had given me a little more motivation.

  Cutting off the car, I grabbed the gift bag sitting on the passenger seat and stepped out. The driveway was already packed with visitors, so I had to maneuver around to make my way to the front door.

  I probably shouldn’t have come. I climbed the stairs to the porch, my hands shoved in the pockets of my jacket. I racked my brain for the appropriate words, but my mind drew a foggy blank. I had changed so much that I barely recognized the woman I had grown into. And that meant starting over and coming to terms with forgiveness and acceptance. That was probably the hardest pill to swallow. A collection of emotions marinated in the pit of my stomach. Anger and hurt was prominent but I also recognized a trace of grief weighing heavy on my heart. But better now to get this over with.