Always Us

by C C Monroe

  We pull up to the church, its old cathedral style makes me feel like I’m in a movie. It’s beautiful, but today it just looks dark, all the white columns look dull, the vibrant plants void of all color. It’s hard to say that this place could be a place of peace when today it holds nothing but an ugly sadness.

  “You ready?” I look over at the only beautiful thing left in my world and nod.

  Stepping out of the car, Shayla rounds the front and finds my side. “Let’s go say good-bye.” Grabbing Shayla’s hand, she squeezes mine and we walk up the long steps to the church, my heart aching, my soul breaking, and my strength shattering. This is it.

  “THANK YOU ALL FOR COMING. I was hesitant to come up here today and say anything.” I look from face to face of the people filling the pews, people that all loved my dad. I’m the first to speak after the heartfelt dedication was read by Kathy, followed by a beautiful rendition of “Amazing Grace” sung by the choir. Manning up, I took steady breaths; reeling in my emotions, ready to give my dad one hell of a speech, one that he deserves.

  “But I knew I couldn’t just sit here without saying all of the things I need to say to my father.” Another deep breath and quivering lip, I blink back the tears.

  Stay strong, man.

  “You know, it’s something you would never think. How many people can say that they have thought about what they would last say to their loved ones, if they had the chance? I’ve replayed that question and the scenarios in my head over and over again this week.” I take in a deep breath and attempt to choke back my emotions, the tears fighting to come out. I look down to the front row and find my woman, locking my gaze solely on her. Shayla centers me, keeping me in place, with a soft smile and nod. The tears falling down her angelic face grip at my chest.

  Be strong, Trey.

  “My dad and I have been best friends for as long as I can remember, literally the first memory I have, he is there. Without my mom there, that bond grew even stronger, and I remember one moment specifically on my eighteenth birthday, he said, ‘Son, you are now a man, and I raised a damn good one, but there will come a day when I won’t be here and you will have to make all these choices, and all I ask is that you do it with me in mind.’” I wipe under my eye with my thumb, before the tear can even make it out. “The day he died—” I stop, giving myself a minute, saying it out loud only digs the knife deeper into my heart.

  “The day he died, I made him a promise to always live the life he wanted for me and it brought me to the question, what would my father’s last words to me be? I think my dad would have smiled his full, broad grin, patted my shoulder and said, ‘Son, continue building your dream, give back to those who need you, forget the chains from the past that bind you, and for the love of God, fall in love.” I see Shayla cover her mouth and sob. Her cry doesn’t seem sad, it exudes honor—pride. Shayla’s crying because she misses Pops, and I want her to know that he loved her, more than she gave herself credit for. Giving her this knowledge is the least I could do for her after all she’s done for me this week. Giving her these words is another way that I can bond her to me in this moment of loss.

  “I know he’s here now, and I know he would tell us all to not cry and pull up our big boy pants and move on. So, today I say good-bye to him, and I wanted to tell him my last words.” A shaky breath leaves me, but I won’t let the lump in my throat stop me. I let the tears fall as I look at Shay. She’s staring right back, nodding her head—urging me to continue.

  “Pops, you will never be too far. In my heart, in my soul, in the eyes of my children, the day I marry my woman. The moment God sees fit for me to leave this earth, I will be with you again. Thank you for giving me a great life, doing the best you could to keep me happy. You always believed in me and never once made me feel anything else but love. I love you, Dad.” The words are felt deep within me like an echo in a cathedral, bottoming out my weak heart. There it is and there it was—saying good-bye.

  I turn and kiss my hand before laying it on his casket. Looking up, I close my eyes and mouth, “Good-bye.” Slowly, making sure I don’t lose my footing on my weak knees, I leave the pulpit and take my seat next to Shayla and Kathy—two of the most important women in my life.

  Shayla kisses me on the cheek, grips my hand tightly then whispers, “That was beautiful. Pops would be so proud, baby.”

  She calls me ‘baby,’ gripping my heart in her fist with the simple adoration. The pressure much needed, because I’m afraid if she lets go the pain will run rapid and I’ll lose myself.

  “Don’t let go of my heart.” My words may not make sense to anyone else, but they do with Shayla. Nodding, she leans in to confirm. Bringing me comfort with her embrace, we share a sad smile; our foreheads joined and eyes shut before listening back in.

  We listen to a few speeches, loved ones telling the crowd about the amazing things my dad did in his life, the way he imprinted on them, the kindness in his soul.

  When it comes time for Shayla to speak, I nearly reach out and suck her back in, hating her absence. Shayla leaves my side and takes her place at the podium. Her heat pulling away from me felt like I left the sun and flew straight into Pluto, cold and lifeless.

  “Thank you, everyone, for your words of praise and kindness for our beloved Pops. I want to take a second to tell you a little story about Pops and me. So, for those of you who know me, I was lucky enough to be in Pops’s life for nearly fourteen years, and I have tons of fun stories about us but this one takes the cake. No one knows about this but me and soon, all of you.”

  I don’t know what memory she is talking about, because I can’t recall a time where I was not with them when they were together. I watch her quizzically, interested to hear what she’s going to say. Intrigued, but also desperate to hear anything about my father that I don’t know, as if it will somehow bring me closer to him.

  “One night, Trey broke his arm and I came over to see if he was okay. Thankfully, he was.” She bites her lip and smiles at me; I return it with a tearful wink, recalling that night vividly in my mind. Watching my life up there talking about the one man I loved more than anything has me shattering into a thousand pieces. Ones that I know only Shayla can glue back together.

  “I ended up staying the night and watching movies with them until we fell asleep. Early the next morning, I woke before he did to the smell of the best French toast in the world. Pops’s French toast. Oh my, you guys, it was the greatest ever invented.” A little piece of my heart warms as she talks about this cherished moment with my dad, she’s a fucking rock star up there, making me feel somewhat normal today and honoring my dad in the best way possible.

  “I rushed to the kitchen and jumped up on the counter next to Pops while he cooked. He laughed at me and told me I have the smell of a shark and the appetite of a whale.” She lets out a small giggle as the audience smirks up at her; a light array of laughs sounding off.

  “He kept flipping the French toast in the air, without even using anything but the pan and his hand. I was so amazed because I always wanted to know how people did it. Pops laughed, then spent a solid twenty minutes trying to teach me. Ugh, I was so frustrated that I couldn’t do it. And after we wasted almost half a loaf of bread and I got the egg and milk mix all over Pops—even on his face somehow—we gave up. Well, I did, Pops wanted to try again, but I finally just turned and said to him, ‘I will have to marry someone who can flip French toast. That’s at the top of my list since I’m a lost cause.’ You guys, he looked at me with this huge grin and said, ‘You know, my son can flip French toast.’ The blush that showed on my face did not go unnoticed. He pressed me further, ‘You love my boy, don’t you?’” She gives me her genuine smile, not taking her eyes off of me.

  “And I said, of course I do, he was raised to be perfect by you, down to flipping French toast, how can I not be in love with him?” We all laugh and I glance from her to his picture. My heart beating slowly, barely steady.

  “I’ll never forget the moment he
turned and said, ‘Well, he loves you too and one day you two knuckleheads are going to fall head over heels in love. Just give him enough time to pull that head out of the clouds. He’s lost and looking, and you’re going to be the one who finds him and the one who he’s been looking for all along.’ He was so right, if Pops didn’t tell me this or open my eyes, I wouldn’t be the luckiest woman in the world that I am today. I wouldn’t be the one who gets to be loved by his perfect son.”

  Split me open and give her my heart, this woman is the grace of God. He really was the best wingman a son could ask for.

  “I guess what I’m trying to say is, Pops was such a bright light, always staying positive and trying to find a way to heal everyone and make everyone happy. I really wish I could tell people the beauty that Charles brought into this world, but the attempt pales in comparison to the real person he was. He was the most inspirational, loving, and humbled man on this earth. You would never know the trials he faced or the crummy hardships he had to endure, because he always managed to make everyone around him happy. I know that his journey here on earth wasn’t the end. I see him in heaven making people smile and children laugh. He was and will always be my Pops, my hero.” She pauses for a brief second, then finishes. “We miss you, Pops, and love you so much.” With that, she leaves the stand and that concludes the end of the service.

  I thought I loved this woman before, but that was nothing to the way I feel about her now. She comes and sits next to me while everyone stands up to walk by his casket to say their good-byes before we head to the gravesite. I waste no time pulling her onto my lap and nestling my head into her shoulder.

  “I never knew about that, how come you didn’t tell me?” She smiles and kisses my cheek.

  “Because I wanted you to come to me all on your own, and it worked, didn’t it?”

  She never ceases to amaze me and yeah, she’s right. She just had to wake up and breathe to catch me. Never once did Shayla have to work for my attention or my desire, she had it all, just by existing.

  “You’re right, I did come for you all on my own and it’s been the best decision of my life to date.” I cup her face with my hand and tilt my head up to kiss her sweet lips. The kiss is soft and I can feel it down in my bones.

  I don’t want to pull away, but when she does, I reluctantly let her. “Same for me. You ready to say good-bye?”

  “No, but I don’t have a choice. Can you give me a minute with him?” I ask, placing my hand on her lower back as we stand. She searches my face and gives a quick nod before kissing me on the cheek. Even with her being in heels, I had to bend to give her a kiss. My little fucking woman.

  “Yeah, I’ll be right outside.” I nod and put my hands in my pockets, watching her leave me until she’s no longer in view. Releasing a heavy breath from deep in my chest, I walk up and say my last good-byes to the man who raised me. The memory of walking away from his casket will haunt me forever. The last good-bye to him will echo in my mind for all of time. Losing my father will forever be a ragged cut in my heart.

  Good-bye, Pops.

  Shayla

  I LEAVE TREY ALONE WITH his father, knowing he needs privacy to say whatever he needs to, that he didn’t already. I can’t imagine what he’s feeling. My chest burns when I even think of my father dying. I can only imagine what his reality feels like right now.

  I see Kings standing next to my dad and Lana, taking one glance back into the church before I head to them. More tears falling when I see Trey talking to his dad’s casket, it’s like watching a broken man talk to angels, full of sorrow, yet, full of prayer. Standing beside him, with her head on his shoulder is Kathy. Trey pulls her into his side then kisses her forehead, the sight so raw—beautifully heartbreaking.

  I’m so sorry, Trey.

  “Hey, princess, that was a beautiful speech you did back there for Charles,” my dad says, pulling me into a bear hug, he’s so big I get lost in him. I soak up every second that he has me embraced in his arms.

  “Thanks, I wanted to make it a good one.”

  “You did, sis.” Kingston pats my shoulder, his taller frame next to me, keeping me sandwiched between him and my father.

  “Yeah, it was great, babe.” Lana stands across from us, giving me a genuine smile. Kingston reaches his arm out and pulls Lana in and it feels so dang good to see them supporting each other instead of fighting, for once.

  “Thanks, guys.”

  We’re making small talk about all the sweet things people said today when Kingston interrupts us abruptly. Grabbing our full attention.

  “What the fuck is she doing here?” We all turn in the direction Kingston is looking. When my eyes find the assailant, I almost drop dead.

  “Is that Gwen? Trey’s mom?” I raise my voice in shock.

  “Unless those pictures that used to hang in Trey’s house were of someone else, then you bet your sweet ass it is.” Kingston’s right, that’s the woman from the pictures Charles had hanging in his house until he met Kathy. I watch her walk up the steps, making her way into the church when I yell out, picking up speed toward her. My flight or fight instincts kicking in. When I am within a few feet from her, I call out toward her again.

  “Hey! Can I help you?” I can’t even attempt to hide my disbelief. I’m furious that she’s here after all this time and on this day of all freaking days. She’s incorrigible.

  “I’m sorry, but who are you?” She pops her hip out and places her dragon nails on top of it. Her voice sounds like nails on a chalkboard, and I have to fight the urge to plug my ears.

  This trick.

  “You must have not understood my question so let me rephrase it, what in the hell are you doing here?” The back of my neck feels hot and my chest feels like it’s breaking out in hives. I don’t do so well with confrontation, especially where Trey is involved and even more so on the day of his father’s funeral. I can’t believe she thinks she can just show up; honestly, I’m certain I’m hallucinating at this point.

  “Well, you’re a delightful peach, but I’m Trey’s mother. Now, who are you?” I’m about to give her a verbal lashing if there ever was one, but we’re interrupted, halting my plans.

  “Gwen?” We both turn our heads in the direction of Trey’s voice. Kathy stands just to the side, in front of him, her fist balling up as she stares in astonishment. Her motherly instincts on high alert. Shoot, I thought I looked scary, mad—nope. I’ve never seen her look so…violent.

  “Trey…” Gwen whispers before covering her mouth.

  “What are you doing here?” He meets us were we stand on the steps, Kathy following suit, keeping her hand in Trey’s. I think we’re all waiting for her to answer that damn question. Everyone in our tight group is standing around us, witnessing the mess unfolding.

  “Look at you, you’re so big, you’re not a little boy anymore,” she says through a sob.

  “No shit, Gwen, that’s what happens when you grow up. Remember, you walked out when I was six with no call or anything for eighteen years, so yeah, I’m not a little boy anymore. Honestly, I don’t even know why the hell you’re here and I don’t care. I’m disgusted that you had the nerve to show up here, today of all days.” I watch him tell her this and I’m stunned that he looks more vulnerable than upset. I was expecting anger; I expected confusion. But instead, I see defeat. You’d think after all the things she put him through emotionally and mentally the past eighteen years, he’d be more angry and full of questions. But surprisingly, he isn’t and it only makes me worry about him more.

  “Trey, we need to talk, I know this is completely out of the blue, but we need to talk. Your dad…”

  I watch the point where sadness leaves and rage is replaced on his once composed face. Stepping to her, he shoves his finger inches from her round face.

  “Don’t! Don’t you dare talk about my father and act like you knew him. I’m not doing this with you, you keep my father’s name out of your damn mouth!” Storming away toward the car, I watch him le
ave.

  Looking back to her, I cross my arms over my chest. Daring her to even make a move or look at him. No way in all that’s holy will I let her talk to him or, for that matter, come within fifty feet. Not here, not on this day, not during this time, and if I have anything to do with it, not ever. Kathy shakes her head and scoffs, whispering some deserved insults before going after Trey. She lets me have the floor, knowing damn well I’m ready for it.

  “I imagined all the things I’d say to you if I ever got the chance to meet you and none of them are nice. I imagined language and name calling, but now that I see you, you aren’t worth the breath. So, I’ll leave you with this”—I get close enough to touch her, but keep my hands to myself—”he’s been through hell in his lifetime and that all started the day you left. I won’t see him hurt again, so I’m saying this one time—stay the hell away from him.” My voice is calm, so calm I even fear my warning. I step back and turn to leave.

  “You must be his flavor of the week.” I stop in my tracks, turning my head slightly.

  “I’m gonna let that slide, because I need to go be with Trey, just like I have been for the past fourteen years,” I throw back in her face.

  “That’s my son, you can’t keep me away from him.”

  I turn back and give her the best resting bitch face I can. “I can’t keep you away from him, but you’ve abandoned him once, so leaving people alone is in your nature.” I walk to the car, leaving her stunned, serves the bitch right. I get to the car and climb into the driver’s seat, trying to calm my rapidly beating heart. I’m so damn pissed I could punch straight through concrete.

  Buckling my seatbelt I look up at Trey, his hand is messing with his lip as he looks out the window. I decide to stay quiet and start the car to leave. If he wants to talk about what happened back there, he will. For now, I need to get him through the burial and then home and make sure he’s taken care of. Everyone piles in the car and we head toward the graveyard. The entire way there, I rack my brain with scenarios. Why the hell did she show up?