by Misty Walker
My siblings each take a turn kissing Mom on the head and cheek, whispering their own goodbyes to the matriarch of our family. When it’s Charity’s turn, I carry her to Mom’s bedside.
“You have anything you wanna tell her?” I ask softly.
“I love you, Mama. You were the best Mama ever. I love you.” She bursts into tears and digs her face into the crook of my neck. I rub circles on her back, trying to soothe her, but knowing there’s no comfort to be found for any of us today.
Dad nods to the nurse I didn’t notice was standing in the doorway. She makes her way over to the machines and flips them off. The sound of air being pumped into Mom stops first, then the beeping. The alarms sound, alerting us to Mom’s heart not continuing to beat on its own, and the nurse turns it off too. It’s suddenly deathly quiet, save for the sniffling of the sad little girl in my arms. We all stay in our own grief for a long while before I notice Charity has cried herself to sleep.
I turn to face Dad. “She’s asleep. I’ll take her home.” A disapproving look crosses his face as his gaze goes from me to Law.
“My home,” he scolds. I roll my swollen eyes.
“Jesus. Yes. Your home,” I snap. I make eye contact with Law and he follows me out of the hospital room. My heart breaks when I realize this was the last time I will ever see Mom.
We pull up to the commune and fifty or more people are standing around. A cluster of women are hugging each other and crying, a bunch of kids are playing cards quietly, and the men look to be keeping themselves busy with menial tasks. I cut the engine and look back at the sleeping form in my backseat.
“I can carry her… if you want?” I undo my seat belt.
“Thank you. Not just for that, but for being here for me. I know it must be awkward.”
She’s right. It has been awkward. Not only with this being the first time I’m meeting her family, but also because, while I understand emotions, I don’t feel them the same way other people do. I didn’t cry when my parents died. I didn’t say goodbye and fuss around their bodies. No one called me and told me to come to the hospital. It wasn’t expected of me and I wouldn’t have gone even if it had been. They were my parents, they died, now I don’t have parents. The end.
Thea’s family, though. Their emotions run high. They all cried in agony and whispered their love to a mother who was not even there anymore. It made little sense, but I knew enough to stand stoic and be respectful. Thea’s dad didn’t look all too excited to see me with his daughter, but the rest of the family didn’t even seem to take note of me.
“It’s fine. Really. Don’t worry about me. Let’s go tuck your sister in.” I step out of the car and scoop the tiny girl from the seat. I follow Thea, but she gets stopped with every step forward she takes. The women hugging her and crying, telling her how sorry they are. The men patting her on the back and side eyeing me. One particular young man wrapped Thea in a hug and kissed her head. Had I not had my arms full with a child, I would have pulled her from his arms and shown him Thea was mine. I know who that guy is. He’s the one who put his hands on my girl.
Eventually, we make our way up the few steps and into a travel trailer. I’ve never been inside one, never had any desire, and stepping into this one, I don’t think I want to again.
The incense scent, woody and smoky, hits my nose, and it reminds me of when Thea and I first met. It’s a fond memory and I make a mental note to Google where I can find incense. I’d like for my home to smell like hers. Maybe it would help me convince her to stay.
I look around, taking the nomadic home in. It’s a long and narrow, open space. How a family of seven lives here is beyond me.
Directly to my left is a bathroom. The pocket door is open and I can see toothbrushes litter the counter, laundry fills the small tub, and bins filled with God knows what are stacked on either side of the toilet. Straight in front of me is a kitchen that doesn’t appear to be used often. On the counters sit small bins stacked to the ceiling with what appears to be pantry foods. To my immediate right is a mustard-colored sofa with a flower print on it. The cushions are each wrapped in a plastic cover. Do they leave them on all the time? To the far end, on the left, is a big bed with curtains drawn open. It strikes me how painful this must be for Thea. Her mom will never sleep in that bed again. Not for the first time tonight, my heart aches for her. Above the bed is a loft, with aluminum stairs leading up. I hope I’m not to get this little one up there.
“She sleeps up there.” Thea points to the loft. I sigh and Thea smiles ever so slightly. “But I think we can lay her in my parents’—” She stops herself and takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “My dad’s bed. I doubt he’ll sleep tonight, anyway.”
I lay the child down and Thea covers her with a thin blanket. The air is thick and hot inside their home, so I doubt she’ll even need the thin covering, but I don’t say anything. Thea places her hands on her hips, standing on the other side of the bed from me.
“I think I’ll stay here tonight. My family needs me right now.” Her golden orbs don’t meet mine, like she’s nervous to tell me she isn’t coming home with me. She shouldn’t be. I think her family will need her too.
“I understand. Will you call me or come see me tomorrow?” I ask. I’ve spent every day with Thea for a long time now. I don’t want to change that. I’ve grown quite fond of our time.
“Yeah. I will.” We both walk to the front of the bed and meet in the middle. Her arms lock around my neck, mine go around her waist, and I bury my face in her hair.
“I’m sorry about your mom. Should you need anything, just call me. I’ll keep my phone close.” I pull away and look into her sad, gilded eyes.
“I know. I will.” She promises.
I walk out of the trailer with Thea right behind me. Once outside, I turn to her and lean in to give her a kiss. She turns her head and my kiss lands on her cheek. I look at her in question, but her gaze is trained to whatever is behind me.
“Is this who you’ve been shacking up with?” an angry voice accuses. I turn to see the guy who had his lips on Thea’s head earlier. An involuntary growl rumbles through my chest.
“Not now, Wen.” Thea’s voice is icy. “Don’t start with me. Not today.”
“I’m not starting shit.” Wen throws his hands in the air. “I’m just curious who my fiancée has become a dirty whore for.”
Anger surges through my body. I pivot, my fists balled and ready to get in this guy’s face. Thea grabs my arm and stops my forward motion.
“You know as well as I do I’m not your fiancée.” Thea’s face screws up in disgust.
“Maybe you’ve forgotten the bride price was paid?” The prick inches closer, his eyes darting me to Thea. “You think your daddy will be able to give that money back now that he has a funeral to pay for?”
I feel Thea sag. Her grip on my arm tightens like I’m the only thing holding her up right now.
“She isn’t fucking yours. If it’s about money, I’ll gladly relieve them of the debt so she doesn’t have to marry an inconsequential asshole like you.” I seethe.
“It doesn’t work like that. We’ve made commitments. This is what her mom would have wanted for her.” Wen then steps to the side to direct his next words to her. “You gonna go against your mom’s dying wishes, Thea? You’re that selfish?”
Thea’s breath stutters and I know she’s crying. This girl has had enough to cry about today. This guy doesn’t get to toy with her emotions like this. Fucking pathetic using guilt to keep hold of something that doesn’t belong to him.
Wen steps close to my face and I can smell booze and sweat emanating from his body. I don’t back down. He’s inches shorter and I use my height to my advantage, glaring down at him under my nose.
“She isn’t a possession. She’s a fucking human being, and you’d do best to remember that,” I say through gritted teeth.
“That may be true where you’re from, but around here, she’s a possession. My possession.” Th
at’s all it takes for me to lose my temper. I shove him in the chest, causing Thea’s hand to drop from my arm. She gasps. He stumbles back a few feet, but is back in my face in seconds, grabbing hold of my shirt with one hand, the other pulling a fist back and ready to punch. I don’t give him the chance to land it. I place my hands on the top of his shoulders and bring his body forward, my knee connecting with his nose. A sickening crunch sounds through the quiet of the crowd that has gathered around us. “Motherfucker!” he yells out, his hands clutching his nose that is gushing blood.
I stalk over to him. Taking advantage of his position, I shove him over and he lands on his ass, his hands still covering his likely broken nose, blood dripping between the fingers. I tower over him, and loud enough for everyone to hear, so there will be no mistaking, I seethe, “If you ever lay a hand on that woman again, I will kill you.” I grab his shirt, pull him up, and point to Thea. “She means everything to me. Everything. So you’ll keep your distance and leave her alone.”
I don’t wait for him to answer. I just shove him away from me and walk back to Thea. Her fingers are twirling frantically through her hair. I stop their fretting and bring her hand to my mouth, place a quick kiss there, and whisper, “If he bothers you again, call me.” Thea’s blinking rapidly, most likely to ward off any tears, but she nods. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” I palm the back of her head and bring her lips to mine, placing a possessive kiss there for everyone to see.
As if my car is a beacon, I focus on it and ignore the whispers and judging stares of the people who have gathered to watch the drama. I’m damn lucky none of them stepped in to help the pathetic bastard or things would’ve ended differently. Not that it would have stopped me from standing up for Thea. Nothing would have stopped that. I needed to make sure those people know she’s worth more than a bride price. More than an arrangement. She’s worth every damn thing, and it’s about time they started treating her that way.
I drive home wondering how this became my life. All it took was a chance meeting and I’m no longer the man who is detached and emotionless. I didn’t even dip my toes in before I left behind my world of systematic calm and jumped head first into her anarchic waters.
It’s been a week since Thea’s mom died and I’ve only seen her once in that time. She came by the next evening to collect her purse and what meager belongings she had left at my house.
While I understand why she’s taking this time with her family, I miss her. More than anyone has ever missed someone, I’m sure of it. When Chloe left, I was sad to be alone again, but I didn’t miss her specifically. Thea is different. I feel lost and tormented without her wreaking havoc on my head and heart.
While I still have been going into work, not even the numbers have been able to keep my mind off Thea. I can’t shake the niggle that something is off. Rationally I know it’s the disconnect that has me twisted in this way, but my mind obsesses over all the things that could go wrong without me even knowing.
It’s in the middle of one of my neurotic moments that a knock sounds on my office door. Mark doesn’t wait to be called in before he’s barging his way in and calling out to Monica that he has a pass to come in whenever he wants.
“There’s my favorite sad sack.” Mark’s lower lip juts out as he sinks into a chair in front of me. “How’s it going, dollface?”
“It’s going just fine, but I have a meeting in ten.” I lean back in my chair and cross my arms over my chest. “A meeting you aren’t invited to.”
“Don’t be touchy,” he drawls. “I just wanted to see if you’ve heard from our girl yet?”
“She’s my girl, and yes. I’ve heard from her. She’s coming over tonight.” Thea finally used the phone I gave her and figured out how to text. It’s the only way we have communicated the last week. I’ve asked if I can come to her, spend time with her and get to know her family, but she has denied me each time. I ask about Wen and she assures me he is keeping his distance, so that’s one thing, I guess. Late at night, my imagination runs wild and I picture that dick manipulating his way into Thea’s grieving heart. I want to be the one there for her. I want to be the one comforting her. I want to be the one to mend her broken heart.
“Oh, goodie!” Mark claps his hands rapidly. “Maybe you can get in and stop being such a grump.”
I cross my arms. “I’m not talking to you about sex.” Or our lack of sex.
“Fine, fine.” He stands up and buttons his deep purple sport coat. It’s covering a button-down that has an eggplant print, if I’m not mistaken. Do we even have a HR department in this company? “I expect that frown to turn upside down when I see you tomorrow morning, Mr.” He wags a finger at me and walks out.
I shake my head and get back to work. I’ve fallen behind and it’s only causing my anxiety to worsen. I’ve always been a dependable employee, never allowing my personal life to interfere with my work. I guess I’ve never had a personal life worth interfering with my work before.
The hours drag on, but I make a dent in my list of catch-up work. No doubt only being able to focus because I know I’ll see Thea tonight. When I pull into my driveway, I spot her sitting on the swing, rocking back and forth slowly. I park in the garage and walk around front to join her.
She looks gorgeous, but distraught. She seems to be in a trance and doesn’t notice my proximity. I take a moment to drink her in with my eyes. She’s wearing one of her many long and flowy patterned skirts and a long-sleeved ruched crop top made from a gauzy fabric. Her hair is braided over her shoulder, but a few wisps hang down and it’s those strands she’s twirling through her fingers. Her face is lax, but her lips are pursed, the only indication that whatever she’s mulling over isn’t pleasant.
I take a seat next to her and she snaps out of it. A soft smile breaks through her stoic stare and she willingly allows me to pull her onto my lap. My arms wrap around her middle and she rests her cheek on mine. I breathe in her smoky cedar and teak scent for a moment before bringing her lips to mine. There’s no tongue or desperation, just our lips melding into each other, getting reacquainted after such a long break.
“I’ve missed you,” she whispers as she pulls away. I rub a hand over her shoulders, kneading the tight tension of the muscles there.
“I’ve missed you too,” I say honestly. “Let’s go inside. I want to make you dinner.”
“I’d love that. I miss your cooking.” Her admittance makes me smile. I hold a hand out to her and she takes it. No arguments about not needing help. No scolding about chivalry. I would think it was a nice change, but I can’t shake this ominous feeling I’ve had since she asked to see me tonight. I hope I’m wrong.
Entering Law’s house, the smell of bleach stings my nostrils. I immediately feel remorseful, knowing not having contact with me in so long probably caused many late night cleaning sessions. Everything looks exactly the same, but I wouldn’t expect any different.
“I’m just going to change. I’ll be right back.” He disappears into the bedroom and I sit down on his hard and uncomfortable sofa I love so much because I spent my first night with Law curled into his side on it.
I lean back into it and think about the last week. The pain and heartache at having to put Mom to rest still curls around my heart. We cremated her body and released her ashes into the Nevada desert, freeing her to roam the earth, even in death.
That wasn’t the hardest part of first few days after her death, though. Trying to be the strong big sister my siblings needed me to be, while also grieving myself, was almost enough to break me. Indie and Charity have cried themselves to sleep in my arms every night, while Leander and Freedom retreated into themselves, becoming shells of the rough and tumble young men they once were.
Dad has been a whole different story. He turned to alcohol, getting drunk and starting fights with the other men every single night. He even tried to get into it with me one night, lashing out about me not being around during Mom’s last days. I stood up from the green plastic chair I w
as sitting in next to him and stormed off. He got up to follow me, not done spewing his venom, but he was too drunk. He tripped and fell into the dirt. I didn’t even bother helping him up. I just left him there to yell out hurtful comments from the ground.
It hasn’t been until the last day or two things have calmed down. Dad put the fuckin’ bottle down and started to come up with plans, started being a dad to my siblings, and apologized to me for his behavior. That was when I finally felt comfortable enough to come see Law.
I take in every inch of his space, storing it in my memory to recreate later when I need somewhere happy to escape to in my mind. It’s then I notice the framed pictures on the mantle. The one of his parents is still there, but the gold, shiny frame that housed the picture of him and Chloe isn’t there. In its place is a distressed wood frame. I walk over to the gas fireplace and take a closer look. It’s a picture of me and Law. We’re snuggled up on the couch, about to watch a movie. We both have on such big, stupid grins. I pick up the photo, inspecting it closer. His hand is draped around me and holding me close. I smile at the memory.
“I love that picture.”
I look up and see Law. He’s standing with a hip resting on the island and his arms crossed over his chest.
“I love it too. Can you send me a copy on my phone?” I place the frame back and walk over to him.
“I’m glad you’re finally coming around to the twenty-first century.” He smirks. I uncross his arms and wrap them around my waist. I lock my wrists behind his neck.
“What can I say? I’m a Gen Z.” I smirk back at him and he rolls his eyes.
