Page 88 of Quasim: King Inferno

“Hey Blair. It’s Tremaine,” her son answered.

I paced the floor with my nerves rattling inside my chest because I was so nervous. “Is she alright?”

“She fell in the house and only broke her arm, thankfully.”

I placed my hand on my forehead as I continued to pace the room. “She doesn’t want to go into an assisted living home. This is the second fall she has taken this year, Tre.”

“Yeah. I know. Luckily, I happened to be in town for work and was staying here. Woke me out of my sleep. She was trying to get something out the attic.”

“Dammit. I’m out the country right now, but when I’m back I can stay with her for a few nights.”

“My cousin is going to come by and stay with her after I leave. I have to head back to the west coast for an investment meeting. Try and talk to her about moving into one… I worry about her, and she refuses to move or leave her home.”

“Thanks for calling me. We will figure something out with her… we’ll have to hear her screaming and threatening to hit us with her shoe, but we’ll figure it out.”

Tre laughed. “At least she’s one arm down, and it’s her good arm, too.”

I snorted, laughing, the first time since I saw I had a missed call from Augusta. “You not right. Please keep me updated.”

“Got you. Have fun, B… you deserve it.”

I smiled. “Thanks, Tre.”

Quasim sat on the couch with his legs apart and extended, watching me. “Everything straight?”

I looked down at my phone and replied to Zay’s text message. He was asking how I was doing and if I was having fun. “My foster mother fell, and her son called to tell me.”

He motioned for me to come to him, and I crawled up in his lap. “You stay in touch with your foster mother?”

“She’s like a mother to me… the closest thing I have to a mom in this life. I was shuffled around so much after my mother passed that I was never anywhere for long. When I was sixteen, I was sent to Augusta Mae’s house, and I hated it. She made me do chores, dress modestly, and she’s a God-fearing woman, so every lesson had a bible verse attached to it.”

He rubbed my arms and gave me his full attention. “I was only supposed to be placed with her for an emergency placementuntil they could get me into a group home. I was there for two months, and Augusta told me that I was going to stay, and age out the system in her home. So, I stayed with her until I was eighteen. If it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t have gone to college in the first place. She’s tough as shit, stern, and straight forward, but the love that woman has outweighs all of that, and she loves me like I’m her own child.”

He reached up and swiped away a tear that fell. “Why don’t you speak on her much?”

“I keep things close to me. When you’re raised being shuffled around, you tend to keep the things you have close to your heart, even the relationships.”

“I can understand that.” He wrapped his arms around me and hugged me. I kissed him on his head and snuggled into his arms. “You scare me, Anjo.”

“I don’t want to.”

He kissed my jaw. “You do, though. Me having love isn’t in the cards for me. … I also feel guilty because I feel like I’m moving on while Cherie and Harley stay behind. It’s a fucked feeling that I can’t stop thinking about.”

I kissed his hands and looked into his eyes. “I don’t ever want you to feel like you’re forgetting them or leaving them behind. I can understand grief, my mother left me when I was young… having to go through life without her was hard for me. Feeling like my life was moving on while she stayed behind was a bitter pill to swallow, but I also know my mother, and I know she wouldn’t want me sad and not living life because she was gone. Harley wants her daddy happy… she wants her daddy to love again, and experience being a father to one of her siblings she sends down for you… and I mean that even if it’s not me you’re with, Sim. You deserve to love and be loved again… you have to let that guilt go.”

Tears fell down his face as he bit the side of his lip and looked away. “I hear her voice still.”

My heart twisted into a knot, hearing those words leave his mouth. “Is it comforting for you?”

“It fucks with me, Anjo. I hear her voice calling me from her bedroom, knowing that she’s not there no more. She hasn’t been there in some time, and she’ll never be there again. The crayon mark near the kitchen, I can’t even bring myself to clean it because it’s her… it reminds me of her. How can I move on when I still have Cherie’s perfume and skincare on her side of the sink?” The more he spoke, the more tears fell down his face.

I could tell this wasn’t something he ever spoke about to anyone. Quasim was quiet, someone who took in everything, never letting anything out. Even some things Meer had no clue about, because although they were close, he never let his younger brother in on his pain. Too worried about interrupting someone else’s life with his problems.

The reason I knew Quasim so well was because I was the same way. Tyshawn started beating my ass when I was in college, and I always hid it. Putting on a front because I didn’t want to be that friend that always had something going on.

I never wanted to overshadow anyone else with my problems, always needing something, never able to be the friend that could offer her shoulder because she was a damn mess.

While my friends were having the time of their lives in college, I was holding everything in, because I couldn’t tell them my boyfriend beat me and was hooked on heroin. I hated to feel any pity from anyone, or face embarrassment.

---