Page 15 of Don't Let Go

He pulled at his dark brown beard peppered with some grays. “Busy. My company is growing and I’m trying to stay on top of everything.” He put a hand on my shoulder. For some reason, people thought that if they touched you enough during a time ofsadness, it somehow comforted you. It didn’t work for me. “I’m always around if you need anything. You remember that, okay?”

“Sure thing.” I ran my hands along my tie and looked for an excuse to leave.

He kept swirling the ice in his brandy glass. “I need to talk to you after the service.”

I put my hands in my pockets to stop messing with my tie. “Okay. Jacob told me I needed to shake everyone’s hand at the end and thank them for coming. I can talk after that.”

He took a step closer to me. “You shouldn’t have to do that alone. He was my older brother. I’ll stand next to you and then we’ll talk.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

He looked at the glass in his hand and then past me to the waiter. “I need another drink.” As he moved to leave, he patted my back once more. “Talk again soon.”

Jacob spotted me and waved for me to come over. “If he wants me to do another speech, I’m going to punch someone,” I muttered, walking toward him.

“Hey, Tyler. How are you?” Jacob took a sip from his whiskey. He kept looking around as if someone might pop out and scare him.

“I’m fine, considering,” I replied flatly.

Something behind me diverted his attention. “Good. Remember to shake everyone’s hand at the end. I gotta go.” He brushed past me. I watched him for a second. He shook hands with a tall guy wearing a tux, but I spied tattoos peeking past his collar. This guy didn’t look like any politician, he looked like a biker or someone fresh out of prison. He stood stiffly and squinted at people who walked by them as if they were talking about something that needed to stay under wraps.

I shrugged it off and scanned the crowd, finding Iris by the wall, looking at her phone. Finally, someone I didn’t mindtalking to. I made a beeline for her to avoid any more useless chitchat.

“Hey Iris,” I said, testing the waters. We haven’t talked since I took off on her at that party after receiving the phone call about my dad.

“Tyler! You poor thing. I’m so sorry about your dad. I can’t believe this.” She kissed me and patted my hair back like I was a spooked horse.

“Thanks. It’s been a crazy week.” I ran a hand through my hair. The kitty necklace I gave her sat on her chest above her breasts.

Iris toyed with her braid and closed the distance between us, her lips brushing mine as she spoke. “After this why don’t we skip the reception and head back to your place?”

A sinister smirk curled my lips. “That would be wonderful after the hell of these past few days.”

Iris smiled and ran her hands along my chest, around my hips, and grabbed my ass. “Good. I’ve missed you.”

Quincy leaned against the wall and fake coughed. “Sorry to disturb your moment.”

I hit him on the arm. “Hey, man. Thanks for showing up. I’m sure this isn’t what you want to do on your Saturday.”

“You’d do it for me. What are brothers for?” He nodded toward the door. The entire team showed up. Basketball was a brotherhood and I thanked God for it at a time like this.

I pounded the fists of my teammates as I greeted them. The pastor stood at his pulpit and the choir quieted down. The service was about to start.

“Thanks for coming. It means a lot to me,” I said, leaving the team to find their seats somewhere in the back.

Iris took my hand and followed me to the first pew assigned for family only. My Uncle Morgan sat on the other side of me.

As the pastor spoke about good men and Heaven, I thumbed through the pages of the Bible I found under my seat. I neededa reason for all this, but as I skimmed random passages nothing stood out to me.

Stories were shared about my old man after the pastor’s speech. I sat there like a lump holding Iris’s hand. I had stories. I should’ve shared a few words, but I felt empty inside. I had done so many speeches and talked to so many reporters back in DC, I didn’t have anything else to say. My uncle seemed to understand and stood to say some final words about my father. I smiled my thanks as he went on about childhood stories.

After my uncle sat down, the pastor returned and wrapped up the service. “James Winston was our brother, our senator, our friend—” The pastor glanced at me. “—and father… is now with our Lord and Savior. Forever at peace, smiling down on all of us.” He closed his Bible and hugged it to his chest. “Now if everyone could please join the choir in singing ‘Amazing Grace’.”

Everyone stood and sang with the church’s choir. I glanced behind me and saw so many tear-stained faces, some too choked up to sing. My teammates struggled to sing along. Most of them looked pained, but they were trying. Next to me, Iris squeezed my hand and with her other hand held a tissue as she sang along.

Once the song ended, Uncle Morgan and I walked toward the back so everyone could shake our hands and say how sorry they were about our loss.

My team waved goodbye and ducked out so they didn’t have to stand in line. I couldn’t blame them. Iris kissed me and said she’d wait for me outside.

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