When My Soul Met A Thug

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When My Soul Met A Thug Page 15

by Jessica N Watkins


  I squeezed her hand to make her look at me. “Nah, I ain’t gon’ do that.”

  14

  Remi

  A week after my accident, I was back to work. I was getting a new patient that evening, so I was preparing myself to be more hospitable and personable than I felt. I had been going through all the stages of grief when it came to Banks and Brandi. Now, I had returned to the stage of anger. I was pissed that he had wasted so many years of my life and had left me so broken that I may never love again. He had just left me alone to put myself back together.

  However, I was going to put myself back to together, and I was going to start by blocking out elements of Banks and Brandi that would trigger any ill feelings. So, I had blocked all those motherfuckers from my social media pages. I tried my best to stay off of social media as well. The last thing that I needed to see while trying to get over this was a picture of their baby, which I was sure had been born by now. I had also completely separated myself from Niyah and Iyana’s messy asses.

  “Fuck him,” I muttered as I pulled up in front of the home in Morgan Park on 108th and Talman.

  I killed the engine on the rental. My car had been totaled out. I was waiting on the insurance check so that I could get me a new ride. Luckily, I had gotten away with blaming that accident on skidding on black ice, and they hadn’t given me a breathalyzer test. So, I hadn’t been charged with a DUI, and I had not been found at fault.

  It was approaching eleven at night and it was the end of January, so it was cold. The sidewalks were icy. I grabbed my bag from the back seat, closed the door, and rushed towards the two-story brick house with my hands in the pockets of my Moncler.

  Before I could ring the doorbell, my cell phone surprising started to ring inside my purse. I paused before ascending the steps of the front porch and fished it out of my purse.

  Looking at the screen, I gasped, as I stared at the contact that read “Husband.” I still had Banks’ number saved in my phone as what he was supposed to have been, even though he’d ended up stepping into that role for another bitch.

  “Hello?” I answered slowly and curiously.

  “H-hey,” he stuttered, as if he were surprised that I had answered.

  “H-hello…”

  We were both stuttering over our nervousness. I knew why I was nervous, but I wondered first, why he was calling and second, what the hell he had to be nervous about. I was the one he had left brokenhearted without an explanation, not the other way around.

  “How you doin’?” he asked me casually.

  Leaning against the banister, I lied, “I’m okay.” I wanted to ask him so many questions, but I was tongue-tied. All that came out was, “How are you doing?”

  “I’m straight,” he answered half-heartedly.

  Something was wrong. I had been with him for most of my life. I knew everything about him. I knew his moods, and I knew how he sounded when he was in those moods. I wondered where his bitch-ass wife was and why he wasn’t somewhere asking her how she was doing, but I kept that sass to myself for the sake of trying to keep my composure.

  “That’s good to hear,” I forced myself to say.

  “Its good to hear your voice.” I was shocked to hear the sincerity in his deep, sultry voice. “I’ve been thinking about you.”

  Curiously, I pressed, “Have you?”

  “Yeah.”

  Suddenly, a light came on inside of the house near the front door. It looked to be in the living room. I looked at my phone and saw that it was two minutes after my starting time.

  “Banks, I have to go. I was actually on my way into a new patient’s home.”

  “Oh… Okay.” He sounded regretful. But then hopeful as he asked, “Can I call you back?”

  “Yeaaah, I guess,” I answered slowly.

  “All right. Have a good night, Remi.”

  “You too.”

  “Hit me if you need something.”

  “O-kay.” My face bunched with confusion as I quickly hung up and climbed the stairs. I had no idea what that call had been about, but it honestly made me feel so much better that after all this time he had finally thought of me. The possibilities of what that call meant swam through my mind as I rang the bell. I honestly was smiling for the first time in so long as the door opened. Then my smile dropped when the massive figure appeared in the doorway. His appearance would have instantly frightened me. His stance was tall and wide, and his bulging arms and legs looked dangerously strong. He would have been scary-looking had he not been so strikingly sexy. His presence snatched away what little professionalism I had left after Banks’ call. Suckable, pouty lips curved up into a smile, beaming white teeth shining through his full, luscious beard, but there was so much sadness in his cognac, cat-like eyes that I saw right through the happiness in his grin.

  “H-hi.” Once again, a man had me stuttering. “This is the home of True Jenkins, correct?”

  “Yeah. Come on in.”

  I hadn’t even noticed that he was carrying a small infant until the baby started to make small, whiny noises. The baby looked so tiny against his huge chest. He began to turn his face, revealing his cuteness beyond the blue, fuzzy baby blanket that he was wrapped in. I gushed at him as the guy let me in.

  “Awww, he is so precious. How old is he?”

  “Just two weeks. His name is Keyes.” He started to talk to the baby. “Say hi, Keyes.”

  I melted at how he cooed at the baby. “Hi, Keyes,” I cooed, playing along. “I’m Remi.” I looked up into the gentleman’s eyes and asked, “And you are?”

  “Coop. I’m his father,” he answered as he closed the door, shutting out the wintery wind. “You can come this way.”

  I followed him into the beautiful home. There was no evidence that anyone was dying inside. The home was full of so much life and smelled of Febreeze. But this was usually how homes felt when I first arrived. It was still full of so much hope. The family members forced themselves to smile, to laugh, to keep moving until the day came that the death of their loved one was inevitable.

  He led me into the kitchen where an older woman was seated at the kitchen table. She didn’t offer me the phony smile that Coop had. She looked up at me, sadness overflowing from her eyes. She stood slowly and reached out to shake my hand.

  “Hi. My name is Angel. True is sleeping.”

  As I shook her shaky hand, I offered, “I’m sorry to meet you under such circumstances. But I promise to make this as easy for your family and True as I possibly can.”

  That was the speech I had been taught to give family members. But I already knew that no matter what I did, watching their loved one die would never be easy.

  An hour later, I was administering some pain meds through True’s IV. She was still asleep, which was to be expected after her mother had explained her condition to me. After learning so much about True, I instantly felt such embarrassment for how I had been acting for the last year. I had been crying over a man, nearly killing myself with depression and sadness. When this young woman, two years younger than me, was fighting through something so much worse. I was used to having older patients. True was one of the first younger ones I could see myself in. I still had a life. I still had the chance to fall in love again and make babies. But she didn’t. She was being forced to leave her children and family, and it was so unfair. But she was doing it. She was facing it bravely, so who was I to complain and feel like anything I had endured was unfair?

  Instantly, I was grateful that I had been led to this patient. I had yet to even get the chance to meet her personally, but I was so grateful to have met her already. I suddenly realized how much I had to be thankful for, but I had yet been so ungrateful. My stomach turned as I felt her frail arm in the palm of my hand. She was literally skin and bones.

  After administering the drugs, I swallowed the lump in my throat. I forced myself to maintain as I stepped out of the room because Angel was still wandering around the house. She had told me that she often couldn’t sle
ep at night so I might hear her every now then.

  I tiptoed through the house. I grabbed my coat out of the kitchen and headed out of the back door, onto the patio with tears in my eyes.

  COOP

  “Why you always trying to fuck with funny-looking bitches?” I laughed into my cell phone as I hit the blunt. I was sitting outside on the patio, taking a smoke break before I headed inside to get a nap before Keyes woke up again.

  I had been spending every day at True’s house, only leaving to take care of much-needed business. I wanted to be able to spend every waking moment with her and Keyes as much as I possibly could.

  “Funny-looking?” Rakim asked on the other end. “Man, she ain’t funny-looking.”

  I looked at the phone, wondering what the fuck was wrong with my homie. “Did you catch a bullet to the eye too? Because you gotta be blind.”

  “What’s wrong with her?” Rakim pressed.

  “Her fat-ass back is what’s wrong with her.”

  Rakim started cracking up. “She ain’t got no fat back.”

  “Her back looks like a turtle shell.” I started barking in laughter at my own joke just as the patio door opened. I jumped and hid my blunt, thinking it was Angel. But it was Remi.

  Even in her coat, I could see that fabulous figure of hers. When I’d opened the door for her earlier, I saw how beautiful she was. But when she took her coat off, as Angel spoke with her in the kitchen, I was floored at how she was built. She was exactly how I liked them, tall and thicker than a motherfucker.

  Remi had the type of look that no matter what was going on around him, a man couldn’t keep his eyes off of her. So, I had to get my ass up out of there. I wasn’t about to let Angel catch me gawking at her daughter’s Hospice nurse after I had just gotten back in good with True. I had disappeared into the Keyes’ room to put him to bed.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said when she saw me.

  I could see the weariness in her eyes as I told her, “Nah, it’s cool.” Then I told Rakim, “Let me call you back.” I hung up before he could say anything. “You cool?”

  As she took a deep breath, it exited from her mouth in a big fog due to the cold air. Then she shook her head slowly. “No, I’m not.” Her voice cracked as she hid her face in her hands. She plopped down into an empty chair and wiped her face free of tears. “I’m so sorry. This is very unprofessional. I’ve never had a patient affect me like this. She’s just so… So young…”

  I sighed and sat back in my chair, hitting the blunt. “Yeah, I know.”

  Remi gasped and instantly looked at me with regret. “Oh, my goodness. I’m so sorry. I’m probably making you feel so much worse.”

  I assured her, “You’re good, and you’re right. Being here is sobering than a motherfucker.”

  “Yeah.” She nodded as she stared off into space. “It is.”

  “You wanna hit this?” I asked with a chuckle as I offered her the blunt.

  She stared at it as if her mouth was watering. “I shouldn’t while on duty.”

  I shrugged. “I won’t tell.”

  She looked behind her into the house.

  “Angel isn’t going to come out here,” I reassured her. “She hates the cold.”

  Remi stared at the blunt for a few seconds before shrugging and taking it from me. She hit it softly, and then handed it back. The weed exhaled slowly from her mouth as she sat back shaking her head. “I feel so bad.”

  “Don’t feel bad for her. She is actually handling it well. Feel bad for those of us who’ll be left here when she’s gone, missing the hell out of her.” Even while sitting there, I felt the pain of mourning for True already. She was still physically with us, but day by day, I could see her slipping away. I thought I had been strong prior to this, but this situation was teaching me strength and manhood that no father could have ever taught me.

  “Are you two married?” Remi asked.

  “No. We’re… Um… It’s complicated.”

  Remi chuckled and nodded, giving me a judgmental smirk. “It’s ‘complicated’, huh?” she mocked me.

  “It’s not like that,” I reassured her. “We were messing around. It was supposed to have been just casual. Then she got pregnant and told me about her condition. I just came back around.”

  Even more interested now, Remi sat up a bit and asked, “Just came back around?”

  “Yeah. I was pissed at first.” Quickly, she gave me a judgmental look, so I explained, “I was raised in group homes. I never had parents. I was out here on my own. Always have been, besides my homie, Rakim. I didn’t want to ever have a child in that situation. That’s why I never had any kids. I was pissed that she was having my baby, knowing she wouldn’t be around to be his mother. Plus, I’m not used to having feelings for anyone. I only previously gave a fuck about Rakim. I had never loved anybody. Never cared. So, to fall for her and then learn she was dying fucked me up. I just couldn’t bring myself to watch her die. I still can’t, but I now know that I don’t have a choice because I will hate myself more for not being here for her.”

  “You don’t know how many patients I’ve had who have been forced to do this alone. She’s lucky to have you.” She looked at me and smiled. “Even though it’s ‘complicated’.”

  “Aye, don’t judge me. I love her. I would love for her, my son, and me to be a family, but…” I chose not to say it since it was evident. “I just want to make sure I’m here to love her for as long as she has left.”

  “That’s sweet, but…” She slightly rolled her eyes. “You men and your ‘complicated’ statuses…”

  “What’s your status then?”

  She chuckled sarcastically. “No complication there. I’m single than a motherfucker.”

  “Damn, why you say it like that?”

  “Because it’s a lot.”

  I shook my head. “Nah, I told you all my dirt, so tell me yours.”

  Laughing half-heartedly in my opinion, she explained, “Well, I was with this guy for over ten years. He proposed, but the ring was too small, so he was getting it fitted, or so I’d thought. One day, I went to the bar that he promoted and saw one of the bartenders with my ring on.” My eyes bucked as she went on, “The ring was actually hers. It was meant for her all along. She was his fiancée. I left him brokenhearted and embarrassed, and, now, they’re married with a baby on the way.”

  My eyes stayed widened as I stared off into space. “Woooow.”

  Again, she chuckled with obvious cynicism. “Right.”

  “Well, then, you were wrong.”

  Her perfectly arched eyebrow rose as she asked me, “How so?”

  “That is complicated,” I laughed.

  Remi thought about it for a few seconds. Then she finally smiled and agreed, “Yeah, you’re right. It’s extremely fucking complicated.”

  15

  True

  a month later -

  “True…”

  I looked up at my mother and was immediately cautious. I didn’t like the look in her eyes as she looked down at the papers in her hand.

  “What, Mama? What’s wrong?”

  She nervously bit her nails as she stared at the envelope in her hand, reading it. “Ummm… This letter was in the mail for you. It’s from family court.”

  I cringed as she walked towards me, handing it to me. As I tore it open, I prayed that this wasn’t “it.” I hoped that Jameel hadn’t finally done what he had threatened. I didn’t want to have to spend the little time I had left worrying that he would win custody of my daughter and erase every good memory of me that she had.

  But as I removed the forms from the envelope and read them hesitantly, my stomach ached but not only from the disease; it was from disappointment as well because Jameel had indeed finally followed up with his threats and filed for full custody of Joy.

  “Shit,” I cursed as I slammed the papers down on the bed.

  “Is it…?” My mom was too afraid to finish her sentence.

  My lips presse
d together tightly as I nodded.

  My mother shook her head as she plopped down in the chair next to me. “When is the court date?”

  “The end of June,” I whispered. “He waited until I wouldn’t be here to fight for Joy.” Tears filled my eyes. I had come to grips with the fact that I was hurdling towards death faster than I had ever expected. I had made my peace with God and asked Him to accept me into the pearly gates. Of course, I didn’t want to leave my kids, my mom, or Coop, but I had come to accept that I didn’t have a choice in the matter. But, knowing that Jameel would have my daughter was something I could never come to terms with.

  As tears slid down my cheeks, my cell phone rang. I quickly answered when I saw that it was Jameel. “What?”

  I literally had no strength to listen to whatever foolery he was about to say, but I hoped that allowing him to speak his piece would prevent him from running down my battery. He had been calling since Keyes was born. Of course, his excuse was that he wanted to see Joy, but I knew that was a lie. He wanted to take my baby. And since I only had weeks left with her, the last thing I was going to do was give Jameel the chance to take my child from me.

  “Did you get the papers?” I could hear the evil smirk in his voice.

  “You will never get custody of my daughter,” I hissed.

  “Why won’t you just die?” he slurred disgustingly. “It would best for Joy and me if you would just die already.”

  “Don’t worry, Jameel. You don’t have much longer to wait.” I hung up before his sorry ass could say anything else.

  “He is a monster,” my mother hissed as she shook her head. “He’ll never get custody of Joy, True. I won’t let it happen.”

  Thank God I hadn’t had the phone on speaker. Otherwise, my mother would be in an uproar. And, since there was no chance for me, I was spending my last days protecting her, Joy, and Keyes.

 

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