I quickly turned my head and more cake was everywhere. Li’l Roc and Chassidy’s mouths were full and their hands had cake squeezed all in between them.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” I said, rushing into the kitchen to clean up the mess.
“I was lookin’ down at my paper. I just looked up and saw them.” Roc followed me into the kitchen. “Man, you know better,” he said to Li’l Roc. “Get down from that chair and go wash your hands.”
“Don’t blame them,” I said to Roc. “You’re the one who should have been watching them.”
I squeezed the cake with my hand, smashing it into Roc’s face. He tried to move back, but I caught him off guard. It was smeared all on his cheek and Li’l Roc and Chassidy were laughing. I was too.
“Oh, so you think that shit is funny, huh, birthday girl? I got somethin’ for that ass.”
Roc picked up the entire cake and started following me around the kitchen. “I’m sorry,” I laughed. “Please, put that cake down. If you throw that at me, Roc, that mess will be everywhere. You’ll have to clean it up and . . .”
I tried to run out of the kitchen, but I wasn’t fast enough. Roc pushed the cake forward, but when I held up my arm, it flipped backward and most of it got on him. The sheet that the cake was on hit the floor and we had one gigantic mess. Roc was still trying to get after me, and as I circled the kitchen island, I laughed when he slipped and fell hard. Before he could say anything, the light on his Bluetooth flashed and he hit the button. He then swiped his cake-filled hands together, rubbing them on his jeans.
“Speak,” he said with a smile on his face. Seconds later, his smile vanished quickly. “What?” he yelled. “Nigga, I can’t understand a word you’re sayin’.” Roc paused to listen, then hurried off the floor. “All right,” he snapped. “Calm the fuck down! I’m on my way.”
He looked at me. “I gotta go. I’ll be back to get Li’l Roc later, and I promise I’ll be back.”
Roc rushed to the door and I rushed after him. “Wha . . . what happened?” I asked.
He yanked open the front door, staring at me for a few seconds with a confused look on his face. “Somebody shot Ronnie.”
Roc rushed out, and it wasn’t long before I saw his truck speeding down the street.
I slowly closed the door, feeling bad for Roc but unsure about my feelings for Ronnie. Yes, I hated him with a passion, but did I really want the man to die? There were times that I wanted to kill him myself, but those were just thoughts of the anger I felt inside. Hopefully, he was in the hospital and the situation wasn’t that serious. I said a quick prayer by the door, and went into the kitchen to clean up the mess.
It was getting late, and after I cleaned the kitchen, I tucked the kids in bed, spending a little more time in the guestroom to thank Li’l Roc for my birthday present. I also read him a story. He had fallen asleep on me and when I looked at the clock it showed 1:00 A.M. I yawned, leaving the guestroom and making my way into my bedroom. Worried, I called Roc’s cell phone, but got no answer. I left a message for him to call me back.
I hadn’t found anything to wear for work tomorrow, so I went through my closet and picked out a skirt and blouse. I laid them across my chair, dropping the shoes that I wanted to wear on the floor. For whatever reason, I couldn’t get Ronnie off my mind. Was it a possibility that my enemy was killed on my birthday? Well, you know that old saying: be careful what you wish for, right? I surely wanted to take back my wishes, only because I knew the loss of Ronnie would be devastating for Roc. I looked up, praying and reneging on what I had said about the man, now wishing him well. I had no idea what losing Ronnie could do to Roc, and the thought of it made me nervous. I cleared my head, quickly changing my clothes so I could get some sleep.
At 3:45 A.M., I heard the doorbell ring. I had just gone to sleep, so I pulled the covers back and rushed out of bed. I could see Roc’s truck in the driveway, so I immediately opened the door. He came in so fast that it scared me to death. So much blood was on his shirt, and he staggered inside, appearing to be in much pain. I touched his chest, fearing that he’d been shot, and trying to help him keep his balance.
“Have . . . have you been shot?” I yelled in a panic, still touching all over his bloodstained shirt. “Oh my God, Roc, what happened?”
He staggered into the living room, falling back on the couch. His arm dropped on his forehead and he squeezed his eyes tightly together. His entire face was wet from tears and his breathing was very fast. “He died, Dez. Ronnie died on meee!”
I had never, ever seen Roc like this, nor had I ever witnessed any man crying so hard. My hands trembled as I reached out to touch his body that wouldn’t stop shaking.
“It’ll be okay, honey. I’m so sorry. Really I am.”
Roc wailed out loud, tightening his fist and slamming it into the couch. I really did not know what to say or do to help him. Putting my arms around him only caused him to push me away.
“Just leave me the fuck alone,” he cried. “Back up and give me some gotdamn breathin’ room!”
I backed away from Roc, giving him the space he requested. Seconds later, Li’l Roc came into the living room after hearing Roc’s loud voice.
“Why you crying, Daddy?” he asked tearfully.
Roc didn’t respond. He just kept on sobbing and pounding his fist while screaming, “Damn.”
I took Li’l Roc’s hand and he looked up at me. “What’s wrong with my Daddy, Miss Dez?”
“He lost someone very special to him,” I said. I continued to hold Li’l Roc’s hand, walking him back to the guestroom so he could get back in bed. “Give your dad time to cool off and he’ll tell you about what happened soon.”
Li’l Roc looked up at me again. “Did Ronnie get killed? Was it Uncle Ronnie?”
In no way did I want to answer Li’l Roc’s question. I wasn’t sure about his relationship with Ronnie, and the last thing I wanted was to bring a child to more tears. “I’m not sure. But get some sleep for me, okay?”
I noticed Li’l Roc wipe a tear, as he must have shed a few for his father. I had done so as well, and after I tucked Li’l Roc back in, I stood outside of the door to gather myself. I took several deep breaths, then made my way back into the living room where Roc was. He was sitting on the floor with his knees bent, shielding his face with one hand. With his back resting against the couch, I got on the floor and sat next to him. I put my arms around him and laid my head on his shoulder.
“Don’t worry. You’ll get through this and I will do whatever it takes to make sure you do. If you need me for anything, I’m here.”
Roc leaned forward, removing my arms from around him and making sure my head left his shoulder. He squeezed his stomach and continued to break down on me.
“This shit hurts, ma. Losing that muthafucka hurts. He’s all I had, Dez. Now what the fuck I’m gon’ do?”
Roc rocked back and forth while I rubbed his back. He had me to depend on, but with us limitations had been put in place. I knew that the love he had for Ronnie in no way compared to what he felt for me. All I could say to him was, “You still have to live for you and you have so much to live for. Your children need you, just like you needed Ronnie. Don’t give up, and I love you so much.”
Roc stayed in the living room and I tried to find out who killed Ronnie and why, but got no answer. I didn’t press the issue and didn’t leave his side until morning. I was too tired to go to work, so I called in sick. I also called Roc’s boss, telling him that Roc had a loss and wouldn’t be in for a few days.
Ronnie’s funeral was scheduled for Saturday, and I had barely talked to Roc since he left on Wednesday afternoon. When I asked if he knew who had killed Ronnie, he said no and refused to talk about it. Our phone calls were short and he seemed to be so out of it. He invited me to attend the funeral with him, but, to be honest, a big part of me didn’t want to be there. I knew how much Ronnie disliked me, and I felt as if going to his funeral would be very disrespectful on my b
ehalf. In no way was I happy about what had happened to him, and I truly wished that this whole situation had turned out differently. But I just couldn’t relay those words to Roc. He needed me, and if the shoe were on the other foot, I know he would have been there for me.
I told Roc that I would meet him at the funeral, and, ironically, it was at the same church as the wedding. When I pulled into the parking lot, as expected, the funeral was packed. I was very nervous, and had anticipated sitting in the far back, out of the way. With all of the people standing around, I wasn’t sure if I’d see Roc. I just hoped he knew I was there to support him. I walked into the church, dressed in my black linen short-sleeved dress that had a waist-length jacket to go with it. Pearls were around my neck and adorned my wrist as well. My hair was pinned up again and I wore very little makeup. My black heels made me tall, but even so, I hiked myself up on the tips of my toes, looking over the many people in front of me to see if I could find Roc. I didn’t see him so I made my way into the sanctuary, taking a seat in the far back. Ronnie’s shiny black and chrome casket was already up front and on both sides of the church were pictures of him. I swallowed again, feeling so uncomfortable. I couldn’t understand why I continued to put myself in these kinds of situations, but a lot of it was because of Roc.
My eyes wandered around, looking at the hundreds of people piled into the church. The middle section was for the family, so the ushers started to bring in chairs. Moments later, I looked to my right and saw Roc standing next to me.
“Why you didn’t let me know you were here?” he said with a very saddened look on his face. His eyes were red, and puffy underneath.
“I figured you would know I was here.”
He reached out for my hand. “Come out here with me. The family ain’t comin’ in until last.”
I wasn’t family, but instead of saying it, I took Roc’s hand. We made our way through the crowd, where people were rubbing his shoulder, telling him everything would be all right, and giving lots of hugs. That made Roc very emotional, and every time we stopped to talk to someone, he squeezed my hand. I figured he thought I was going to let go, but I didn’t.
The funeral was under way, and the long line of family members proceeded to go into the church. Roc and I were seated in the very first pew. I kept praying for God to give me strength so I could pass it on to Roc. His legs were trembling and his eyes were glued to Ronnie’s casket. Every few seconds, he’d let out a deep breath and sit back. Then he’d let out another and lean forward. He was very fidgety and I reached for his hand to calm him. I held on tight, occasionally rubbing his back and patting his leg.
Midway through the funeral, it was pure, deep torture. The cries in the church were getting louder, the singing choked me up, and one person after another stood up to tell how Ronnie had caused such an impact on their lives.
“Y’all just don’t know,” a young man stood in front of the church saying. He was crying his heart out. He pointed to Ronnie’s casket. “That man right there, he took care of everybody. You could ask him for anything, and he would do it, no questions asked. We lost a hero, but I’m gon’ be thankful that I got a chance to know who the real man was.”
So many people in the church vouched and hollered, “Amen.”
Roc tightened his fist and whispered, “Say that shit, man, say that shit again.” He rolled up Ronnie’s obituary, tapping it against his hand. At one point, he seemed to calm down, and reached his arm back to rest it on top of the pew. I looked up at him, but it was almost as if I were looking through him. This was a different Roc sitting next to me. A much colder one.
According to the obituary, it was now time to view the body. This was the part that I hated so much. With us being rather close, there was no way for me to avoid it. I prayed, yet again, for strength. The funeral directors opened the casket, and all I could picture in my mind was Roc lying there. From a short distance, I could see Ronnie laid out in his black pinstriped suit and burgundy accessories. Roc was staring at him again, and it wasn’t long before the people in the church erupted with more hollering and screaming.
“Jesus Christ,” one lady shouted, covering her mouth and damn near fainting. I had never seen so many men cry in my life, and another man dropped to his knees in front of the casket.
“Why you leave us like this, man? Why?” he screamed. “You was supposed to be a soldier!” The ushers had to carry the man out, and, one by one, some of the visitors kissed Ronnie, placed items in his casket, or fell all over it in tears. Shouts of pain rang out, and when Roc dropped down to one knee, I stood up behind him. Several men came to his aid, trying to hold him up. Eventually, they had to carry him out of the church as well. I followed, wiping my tears and hoping that this torture would all be over with soon.
Nearly two hours later, it was. We were now at the gravesite at St. Peter’s Cemetery on Lucas and Hunt, where Ronnie was soon to be put into the ground. I stood, holding Roc’s hand, looking at all of the people there to pay their last respects. Yes, Ronnie may have been hated by some, but he was still loved by many. The proof was in the pudding, and now he was in the hands of a man who he would have to answer to for the good, bad, or maybe ugly. I said one last prayer for him and made my way with Roc back to his truck. He plopped down in the driver’s seat, looking dazed. Another man was riding in the passenger’s side, and he got into Roc’s truck.
“Are you coming over?” I asked, standing beside Roc’s truck. “I’ll cook you some dinner.”
“Nah, I’m goin’ home.”
I touched the side of his handsome face, rubbing it. “Okay. If you need anything, call me. Take care, baby.”
Roc shut the door and I made my way to my car. I could see Vanessa staring at me from afar, and at a time like this, she had the nerve to confront me.
“I see you’re not ready to give up on Roc just yet, huh?” she said.
I sighed and quickly turned to face her. “Vanessa, please stop with the childish games. If Roc is your man, so be it. Why are you constantly approaching me with your nonsense? I know why. Because you know, like I do, that all we are to Roc is some pussy. He doesn’t know how to love you, nor does he love me. The only person he has ever loved is now gone, so stop wasting your time with this. Because no matter what you do, Roc is going to be the man you’ve known him to be for all of these years. Too bad you haven’t figured out what kind of man you have on your hands. I have, and that’s what you’re so afraid of. So stop fighting with him, and instead figure him out. Then you can decide how you wish to proceed in your relationship with him, and in no way will what you decide affect me. That’s just a little something I think you should know.”
She pursed her lips and put her hands on her hips. “Roc does love me and he can get pussy anywhere. No matter what, he always comes back to me, and that’s just something I think you should know.”
I reached for the door handle on my car, as this chick just wasn’t getting it. “Don’t chalk it up as love, Vanessa, as it can always be mistaken for convenience. His security blanket you may be, but after a while a blanket gets worn and tired and gets thrown away. I regret to inform you that, personally, I think your days are numbered. Simply because a woman doesn’t have to keep fighting for what’s hers, she only fights for what’s not. Obviously, Roc is not yours.”
I got in my car, because this wasn’t the time or place for the kind of action I knew she wanted. I couldn’t help but to wonder where things would go from here now that Ronnie was gone. Would Roc now become the Head Negro In Charge, or was this the right time for him to move away from the bullshit and be done with it? Just from observing and noticing all of the people coming up to him, along with Vanessa and her continuous mess, I wasn’t so sure.
Chapter 9
I guess it didn’t take long for my question to be answered, and, just for the record, Roc had been fired from his job. His boss had come to me this morning, telling me that Roc had taken too many days off and failed to call in to say why. I knew he hadn�
��t been coming to work, and every time I spoke to him, he said that he needed more time to get himself together. Basically, he didn’t feel like working, so he wasn’t coming in. His Tuesday and Thursday visits had come to a halt, and the last time I’d seen him was at the cemetery that day. In no way did I want to pressure him, and when he asked for space, I gave it to him.
Besides, on my end, I had an even bigger fish to fry. My weight had been fluctuating and the stress I had been under was causing me to eat more. Since I hadn’t been working out with Roc, I had packed on seven pounds and wasn’t too happy about it. My self-esteem had plummeted, and I just couldn’t get out of this funk I was in. In addition to that, Latrel had finally broken the news to me, telling me that he wanted to get married. I was livid, because he hadn’t even finished college yet. He still had one year to go, but he refused to wait.
“What is the rush?” I asked, talking to him over the phone while I was on the treadmill at Gold’s Gym. This weight was coming off of me, and the last thing I needed was to feel uncomfortable about how I looked.
“There is no rush. I’ve known her for a while and I’m in love. We feel now is the right time to do it, and before we go back to school in August, we will be married. Either you’re on board or not, Mama. It’s going to happen and I’m not going to argue with you about this. Just be happy for me, all right?”
“I’m trying to be, Latrel, but I don’t understand why you can’t just finish school first. That would make so much more sense. Give this relationship thingy a little more time.”
“I’m not on your time, I’m on my time. Angelique agreed to marry me and I’m not going to wait to do it.”
“She’s pregnant, isn’t she? Why don’t you just come out and say it, Latrel?”
“I would tell you if she was, but she’s not. Look, I’m not getting anywhere with this conversation. I’ll be home next weekend and we can talk more about it. I have to get to class, so bye, Mama.”
Full Figured 3: Carl Weber Presents Page 12