Tear of an African violet
By
Jessica Gereaux
Copyright © 2021 Jessica Gereaux
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 9798528399652
DEDICATION
To my mother Dr. Deborah J. Walker I thank you for the gift of life and though you may not know it the gift of writing. Thank you for all of the love and support. To my wife LaShone Crawford thank you for the gift of love, acceptance and support for eternity. To my teachers Lorena Pearson and Kelvin Ramsey who encouraged me to see the greatness in myself as a young African- American lady growing up in the south. To all my family and friends for all their love and support, thank you.
CONTENTS
Acknowledgments
i
1
Heartbreak’s Ledge
Pg 3
2
Edge of the desert
Pg 40
3
Young Prince
Pg 52
4
The Tapes
Pg 68
5
Jewels and Money
Pg 98
6
Cross Regrets
Pg 123
7
Holding Out
Pg 159
8
Moving in the Shadows
Pg 178
9
Ultimatums
Pg 207
10
11
12
13
Epilogue
War at the front door
Underestimated
Knock, Knock, Knock
Restitution
Sunny Days and Sunshine
Pg 230
Pg 252
Pg 269
Pg 290
Pg 313
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
To my editor Willow Oak Author Services and my cover art designer Capa-Artist thank you.
For all the many emails and revisions we made it through, you’re a greatly appreciated.
Chapter 1
Heartbreak’s Ledge
-Kae-
Death is a creeper, a dark shadow that lurks in bright rooms. I’m grateful my mother had the forethought, to be honest with me. I am more prepared for death than I should be. It was never seeing them again that fucked me up. It surrounds me daily, yet I’m always utterly unprepared in my heart. Even at a young age, the death of a loved one is an unforgettable vision. Death is the caesarian section of the heart. It gives birth to pain. -DellaKae
Standing in front of the grand St. John Catholic Church, the most prominent, oldest black Catholic Church in the city, I stared at it in awe. The leaves swirled around like a fairytale; it was more of a nightmare. St. John’s was the only church in the city big enough to hold the multitude of people that would show up to pay their respects. Kari, however, is Baptist. In a short while, the hearse would roll up, and my heart was sure to die. It would be one of many times for the rest of my life. Somebody was going to pay for this hole in my heart. To burn this goddamn city down was an understatement.
I shouldn’t be here yet; here the fuck I was. My jaw was clenched, tears burned my eyes, I dared them to fall. I cinched the hood up on my black cape. My guns strapped to me in various places. Never without them, no matter where church included. Took a deep breath while the building across the street held me up. I pulled out Kari’s platinum cigarette case; it had a diamond-encrusted crab on the front, pulled out a blunt, and lit it with the matching lighter. It was a gift for our fifth anniversary. Inhaled that first drag, held it until it burned, then exhaled. The wind whisked the smoke away quickly. Caught a glimpse of my reflection and wiped the single tear.
Being aware of my surroundings, something Kari always preached like the Bible. To tell you the truth, we survived a lot living by that philosophy. We stayed aware, vigilant and we came out on top. But, she had one helluva instinct that never failed us. She was the only person whose hands could hold my life.
The church parking lot filled up as cars passed through the intersection. The security I hired was through my baby daddy, Black. They constantly scanned and checked like a well-oiled machine. Security was on the rooftops and mixed in the crowd. Black was another player in the game and a damned cold one, too. He had been more than a baby daddy; he was my friend. If there was one man that I still had love for, it was him. Black was an awesome father to our kids and surprisingly supportive of my relationship with Kari. Before you ask, yep, the three of us got down more than a few times, and yes, it was the shit.
Black was actually a fine-ass Samoan. He is 6’4, kissed by the island sun, broad shoulders, with a medium build. He wore his long wavy black hair with shaved sides and usually kept it in a ponytail at the top. When we were younger, it was sexy as hell to me. Fortunately for me, nothing about him was typical from the start. He would’ve died at the thought of wearing a suit off the rack.
Black used to wear this old detective’s coat that belonged to his grandfather, who meant the world to him. When the seasons changed, I snuck it out of the closet and found pictures of Black with his grandfather. With the help of his mom and grandmother, we wrote a bio. It was a Father’s Day present along with a new coat. I’d never seen him genuinely cry until that day. The old coat was mounted in a shadow box with the bio and pictures in the background. He was wearing his new coat, a long, black, single-breasted Versace trench coat, outfitted to hold shotguns on each side. It had several gun holsters and pockets for other weapons at his disposal. He was strapped, like me. You could never be caught slipping, even in the house of God. I hit the blunt as he walked my way. His strides moved him with a purpose. He was the one man who never switched up on me.
Black towered over me and blocked the sun. Through my sunglasses, he radiated. He bent down, lifted my chin, and kissed my lips ever so gently. Then wrapped me in his long muscular arms, squeezed me, and his body relaxed into mine. He smelled like Giorgio Armani for men, another gift from me. His fresh cut with tribal marks cut on the sides made him distinguished. Black was still fine as hell; I didn’t give a damn. I loved to get that meat from time to time.
“How are you?”
He released me and slid the blunt out of my hand to his lips.
“I’m standing at the moment,” I gazed at him.
“Yes, I can see that, and you fly too. Kari would be proud of you,” he hit the blunt again.
On the sly, I checked myself out. Everything hugged and fit right. Damn good if I said so.
“If nothing else, I know how she liked to see me dressed,” I sighed; he wiped my tears away with his thumb.
“I promise you this: I won’t rest until I tear this city the fuck up and find who is responsible for this,” He passed the blunt back.
I inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly again.
“Who do you have on the kids?” I targeted faces in the crowd as they went inside the church.
“Their Godfathers. If anything happens, they know the escape route and rendezvous point. So we are covered,” he said.
His baritone voice was as smooth as the finely aged brandy your granddaddy drank. You know the kind when he and grandma were slow grinding in the hole in the wall.
“I’ll know it if they show up here. Bet you that,” I hit the blunt again.
We finished it, tossed the doobie in the grass, and sprayed ourselves with our respective cologne and perfume. I glanced at my Cartier watch and realized in a bit, a glass horse-drawn hearse would come around the corner. The sprays of African Violets and Blue Roses would adorn her casket. She’d probably fuss about the flowers. I could hear her talking shit. ‘Why the fuck would you bring me flowers? They’re just going to die anyway. Shit, bring me so
me weed, something to eat or wear. Fuck flowers, they die.’
Kari was that kind of woman. She meant it, but secretly she loved African Violets. There were pictures of them damn near everywhere in the house. She admired them, marveled at the deep purple and how it made her feel. Then, Kari would leave as she lived, in style. She’d also fuss about how much I spent. I’d tell her to shut the hell up and let me handle it. That was how we were. I’d miss that about her.
“I’m about to check the perimeter and rerun counter safety. I got about five minutes. Nice touch on the cape,” He kissed my cheek and squeezed my ass before he walked away.
Black barked orders in the earpiece. The security team started to move around and become more active. He commanded precision from his workers. Secured my weapons and prayed I wouldn’t need them. To bury my wife in peace was all I wanted. Being strong for our kids was my mission because I knew they were doing the same for me. Somehow DaKari and I always managed to be the opposite of each other in so many ways. She had a set of twin boys, and I had twin girls.
I walked towards the church out of the corner of my eye; Gio- the father of her children, walked with some other skinny guy. He dressed nicely but with no style or class. The skinny dude with him was jumpy and nervous. Never liked the way Gio moved. Always felt the need to keep my eye on him. He had done shit I would’ve bodied a man for, but she stopped me plenty of times. He had a right to be here; I couldn’t deny him that. She was the mother of his children. He deserved to pay his respects. I wanted to avoid him, but that was impossible. I still had the kids. They’re my kids, and no DNA would tell me differently. So why not get it over with? I approached him before he saw me.
“Nice of you to come, Gio,” I said, even-toned.
I caught them off guard.
“Damn, Kae. Why are you walking up on me like that, yo?” His northern Philly accent betrayed him.
If there was one thing she loved, it was a northeastern man. Inhaled his scent, Hugo Boss; she loved that cologne on a man. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if she bought it for him. He reeked of sweat and musk; it was the smell of fear. Didn’t like the smell of either one of them. The skinny dude’s neck was on a swivel like he was waiting on someone to get him. I looked him up and down.
“Why are you jumping?”
I stared at his friend dead in his eyes. He broke eye contact first.
“Man, ain’t nobody jumping. Shit, you coming out the shadows and shit. What you expect?” He straightened his suit and tie.
“Who is your friend? Is twelve after him?” never broke my gaze on jumpy.
“Him? Oh, that’s Blue. We go back. What’s up with the questions?” He shifted his weight from foot to foot, a sign of nervousness.
“That’s my business,” I walked away.
“Hello, Sister Kae. I’m glad I finally found you,” a slender, older man approached, his hand extended. I declined. I didn’t know where his hands had been.
“Hey, Mr. Paulson. Thank you so much for pulling this together. I know it wasn’t easy,” my words laced with a drip of southern sweetness on it.
“I thought I had seen it all, yet you managed to surprise me with your request. We are happy to rise to the challenge. We hope our clients do not,” He laughed at his own joke and strolled towards the curb.
I smiled a little and was thankful for the ability to do so. The sound that I dreaded, horseshoes in the distance, echoed. The church bells tolled, and my stomach dropped to my feet and up again. Finally, the spearmint gum settled it. The mint started to do its job when the hearse got to the curb, where the lavender carpet started. Right behind the hearse were ten family limos. The doors opened simultaneously, and a flood of Romaines flowed out. If she didn’t have anything else, a big family was it. Her mother stepped out next to her girlfriend. Kari’s sisters, Chantall and Mahogany, showed up with their respective spouses and their kids. Cousins, uncles, aunts, godchildren, everyone showed up. It’s about sixty or seventy of them now; I knew each of them and could call them by name.
When I set my eyes on them, my heart swelled up to a lump in my throat. They were dressed to the nines, in some form of violet, black or white combination, even the babies. The finest of jewels were displayed everywhere. They were royalty; I expected Nothing less. The Romaine name flowed through these streets decades before we were born. She fell into this shit naturally. When we met twenty years ago, we never imagined we would go to the places we had been and done the things we had done. I never imagined someone like her in my life.
“Hey, Babygirl, you holding up?” a sweet voice chimed in my ear. It was my mama, Zalan.
“Hi, Mama. I’m holding the best I can. Do you see them? Don’t they look amazing?”
The family lined up outside the church.
“Like a royal army in Armani to me.”
She laughed a little. So did I. She had a way of doing that to me. She rubbed my back like always to comfort me.
“You’re so funny. Before you say anything, I don’t give a damn about this being a church.”
She didn’t say a word and kept rubbing my back and kissed my cheek.
“I’ll see you inside, DellaKae. I love you, and I’ll be here when you need me,”
“I love you, too,” I said and squeezed her hand before she disappeared.
I walked over to Kari’s mama.
“Hey, Mama G. How are you holding up?” I removed my hood and hugged her.
“No mother wants to bury her baby, ever. It’s not how shit is supposed to go. With that being said, I’m doing my best. I don’t want to see her like this,” Her voice was strong, but her hands shook.
“I don’t want to either, Mama G. I’ll say that she’s fucking gorgeous. You let me know what you think,” I guided her to the front of the line.
The funeral director opened the glass doors, took out her purple and cream casket, six broad-shouldered young men lined up and placed it on their shoulders. It was the ultimate sign of respect they could show to their loved ones one last time. I’ve been to so many funerals in her family that I knew what to expect. Here it was, live front and center, but this time it’s not another family member; it’s Kari. Pallbearers like soldiers walked upstairs to the sanctuary. They placed her at the front where a ‘Do This In Remembrance of Me’ table usually sat. I squeezed Mama G’s hand as we walked together down the aisle to view her baby one last time. DaKari was wearing a peasant shirt; with a beautiful swirl pattern like peacock feathers. She had on a matching trumpet skirt with her favorite pair of gold-crusted Steve McQueen’s. Her jewelry was on point to match, her hair was whipped. Unfortunately, the ring Gio gave her was missing. The police said there was no ring on the scene. I replaced it with an infinity ring of diamonds and rubies.
Mama G’s heart was broken again. Her knees got a little weak when we made it to the open casket. When she peered in, and the tears flowed down her face, her girlfriend and I held her up. The sight of Kari took her breath away. Once her tears started, the emotion damn broke across the room; the sniffles and muffled cries were collective. She patted my hand when she was ready to sit. I led her to the first pew. The family took their turn to view the body and sat down. Gio was in the viewing line; the nervous one stood behind him. He kept avoiding my gaze. Gio was one person I’d work for free. In my spirit, I felt he was involved. Not exactly sure how involved. I stood next to the casket as the line proceeded.
“You don’t have to eyeball me so hard. I am as hurt about this as you,” Gio gazed down on her.
“Don’t give a fuck how ‘hurt’ you are. Keep the bullshit to ya self,” I spoke without emotion.
“Don’t do this right now? Can this be a peaceful day?” he asked once he passed her casket.
“Have a seat, nigga.”
I walked over to the pulpit and sat next to Simeon. It was against all the rules of the game to have my back to the door. The church was filled from the balcony to the overflow. Even the basement had a live broadcast downstairs. As I took
in the sea of people, my heart was overwhelmed. I pushed back tears; there was no time for them. Amazing Grace played, and the choir hummed along. Her smiling face peered back at me from the obituary in my lap; I flipped it over. I nodded at the minister to begin. He went into full Baptist preacher funeral mode, including the white handkerchief and his call and response style.
“Simeon, don’t let him be up there forever. He has the mind to be long-winded,” I whispered to him.
“I got you, Sis. By the way, word on the loop is this was an inside thing. A deal went bad,” he whispered back.
“Gone bad” is an understatement. My wife is in a fucking casket!”
“In the house of the Lord, Kae?” He pointed up and around.
“He already knows me. I’m sure a cuss word in here is the least of his worries with me,” I sat back and slid my sunglasses back in place.
I didn’t care how long people stood up to give remarks. Simeon controlled the ceremony. He did well too. The preacher was a damn good and a better shot than most preachers I knew. Our team was diverse, to say the least. The whole pulpit had no less than 15 to 20 guns. He probably had one in his Bible. He preached a soul-stirring sermon for her. The spirit moved on through, and it moved quickly. It hopped from one person to the next, and before you knew it, the whole church was in the aisles. They danced, shouted, and praised the Lord. The church was filled with the spirit; I felt it myself. I stayed focused.
“Kae. Heads up on the front door. A man in tan and gray is coming in,” Black spoke in my earpiece.
A shadow opened the door and walked in. The man swept the room from left to right and back. Black was directing people in my ear to focus on the man. Mr. Tan and Gray walked towards the casket slowly. I watched him closely, tried to determine if I knew him, and drew a blank. I took the safety off my penknife in my sleeve. The man stood at the first pew and gave the whole row a once over. Everyone was still caught up in the Holy Spirit and didn’t notice him. He moved over to the casket and stood for a moment. Then, as he made the sign of the cross over his chest, he reached in his coat pocket, pulled out an envelope, and put it in her hands.
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