Page 51 of Stand on That

“I expect you to feel some kind of way. I do. But please don’t try to be an asshole on purpose. I’m not going anywhere. I’d never do you like that.”

Darius once again kissed his teeth. Ever since he learned the news that he was paralyzed, there was always someone in the room with him. Maybe he needed some time alone to process everything. On the other hand, I didn’t want him to feel abandoned. I was stuck on what to do. No matter how much I meant well, there was no way I could remain a ray of sunshine when I was literally running off fumes. It didn’t take me long to make my decision.

“Azarius called when you were asleep. He said he’ll be by around six. That’s two hours from now. I’ll go home and get some rest. Let you have some time to yourself.”

No response. Standing, I walked over to the bed, leaned down, and placed a kiss on the corner of his lips. “I love you.”

Still, he said nothing. The entire walk down to my car, I talked to God. More like begged Him to make it so that Darius would walk again. If he never took another step, I was still going to be right by his side, but I wanted him to walk because that was what he wanted for himself. When I was in prison, I shut people out that didn’t want to be shut out. If it was Darius’ turn to be on the same type of time, I had no choice but to be patient.

Inside the car, I went from praying for Darius to praying for Dymand. Both her parents were out of commission at the moment. Darius’ parents wanted to be there for him, and Bree’s mother wanted to be there for her. That didn’t leave a lot of people to care for Dymand. I told Darius’ parents anytime they needed me to watch her or pick her up from school I would.

Out of nowhere, a chill made me quiver. Goosebumps prickled my arms, and a chill ran down my spine. That happened often and when it did, I’d remember Mario on the ground with a burned face, eyes open, not moving, or breathing. That face would more than likely haunt me for the rest of my days. Darius may have been the reason he was disfigured, but he had robbed Darius. Things like that came with consequences. I wasn’t into street politics, but he wasn’t going to kill my man in front of me not while I had a gun on me.

I needed a long hot shower, a blunt, a few shots, a good meal, and some deep sleep. My eyes felt like they were filled with sand. The entire drive home, I counted the seconds until I could pull the car into the garage and take my clothes off. Inside the house, I thanked God for traveling mercy and went straight for the cabinet that contained the alcohol. Ignoring my buzzing phone, I twisted the cap off a bottle of tequila and poured some into a shot glass. People meant well. But I was tired of answering calls and repeating the same information over and over again. I felt like a receptionist that was reading everybody the same script.

I knew I was out of it when I barely tasted the alcohol that slid down my throat. I did feel the burn in my chest, however, and I welcomed it. Shot number two was a no brainer. Moving over to the fridge, I opened it and removed a can of strawberry Fanta. After popping the tab, I downed half the can and went to take a shower. The alcohol had me feeling a little more relaxed, but it wasn’t anything worth bragging about. Darius had a long road ahead. There would be many days where he was frustrated and angry, and I would have to remember he had the right to feel those things and not become angry and frustrated myself.

In the shower, I let the hot water pelt onto my skin as I mentally prepared myself to take him to appointments, help him with his schoolwork, whatever he needed. Being there for him and braiding hair would be hard, but I would have to find a way to get it done. This might be one of the last nights I was able to get some good rest, so I was going to take advantage of it. I wasn’t sure how much time had passed while I was in the shower, but I stayed in there for a good little minute.

Once my skin was moisturized and I was dressed in panties and a tank top, I sat Indian style on the couch and smoked a blunt. I still didn’t feel like talking, so I texted everyone that I had a missed call or message from and gave them an update on Darius. The blunt was only gone halfway when I put it out. I felt like I was floating and could barely hold my eyes open, but I knew I needed to eat something. Ramen noodles with shrimp and beef smoke sausage was gon’ hit every time. I ate, drank another soda, then downed a bottle of water, and was out like a light.

Though I had been invited, I eased inside Bree’s home with caution. It had been a week since Darius got shot and two days since Bree was released from the hospital. When her mother called me and said Bree wanted me to come braid her and Dymand’s hair, I wondered if she had the wrong number.

There were people that beat death by the skin of their teeth that were still mean and miserable, so I didn’t want to assume that the accident had changed Bree for the better. Her home was gorgeous on the outside and the inside. When I entered the living room, she was sitting in a recliner and a woman that looked like the older version of Bree was holding Dymand. An older guy had let me into the house. The woman holding Dymand smiled at me, and then she left the room.

I could tell Bree had lost weight, but she didn’t look terrible. Her hair was dry and in a short afro. She wore a pink pajama top with black polka dots and the matching pants. When I entered the room, she gave me a small smile.

“I didn’t think you would come.”

“Why not?” it was impossible not to notice the scar on Bree’s face, but it didn’t take away from her looks. She was still pretty.

“Because we aren’t exactly friends.”

“That’s true. And that’s the reason I wondered if this was a set up, but I ain’t ducking no smoke,” I teased with a small smile making her chuckle.

“I’m ducking all smoke. Being mean, petty, and vindictive has me over here fighting for my life.”

“I know something about that. That’s how I ended up a jail bird.” I walked over to where Bree was sitting and began removing the things I needed to do her hair from my bag.

“How is Darius doing?” she asked as I began to part her hair.

“Mean as a rattle snake. It’s to be expected, but baby, it’s taking the strength of ten men for me not to pop him upside his head at least once a day. He’s being discharged tomorrow, and I need a pastor to come throw holy water on him.”

Bree laughed. “I wish we could go back and do everything a different way.” Her tone turned solemn.

“That would be nice. I would have for sure done some things different, but there’s no lessons in that.”

“I think I’ve learned enough lessons to last a lifetime. I was childish. Darius was never mine to act a fool over. I didn’t have a reason not to like you. And usually, it’s the man playing both sides, but he wasn’t doing that. Honestly. It was all on me.”

“I’m not worried about that, Bree. What you’re going through and what Darius is going through, it’s so much bigger than that. Nothing you nor Darius did was the reason I went to prison. It was because of my own foolish actions. I had to come home with a different mindset. Lessons. It be those lessons boo.”

“I should have been somewhere looking good trying to find a new man. Instead, I drank myself silly and got behind the wheel of a car,” Bree’s voice cracked.

“Would you ever drive drunk again?”

“Hell no.”

“Okay then. Lesson learned. Stop dwelling on that accident. You’re alive, and you’ll be back like new in no time. Beating yourself up isn’t going to do anything. Trust me.”