Page 19 of Truce Of The Matter

“Truce.”

“I know how to handle myself. Daddy, it’ll be fine. Go back inside and I’ll be in there shortly.” Before he can try to stop me, I bolt down the hall to the care station. It’s a round structure in the middle of the floor and two people are sitting behind computers and another two are standing. “Excuse me. Who is the nurse for my mother, Irene Redmond?”

One of the ladies sitting behind the computer answers. “I’m one of the nurses,” she begins but a loud alarm sounds. She jumps up and she and one of the standing men rush out of the circle.

“What’s going on?” I ask but when I turn to see where they are going, I see the light outside of my mom’s door flashing red. I rush behind them and see Daija and my dad run out.

Daija’s screaming at the top of her lungs, “Help! Help! Something’s wrong!”

“What’s wrong?” I ask as soon as I reach her but she’s only screaming and crying and my dad’s head is bowed as he shakes it.My God!Dread fills my entire soul and I feel my heart drop into my stomach. The pain is indescribable and it halts me in my tracks. I inhale deeply then exhale slowly before turning to my mom’s door. When I try to push it open, something prevents me. “Open the door,” I plead.

“Sorry, ma’am. Give us a minute,” a male voice says.

Seconds later, three more people, one pushing a machine on wheels, whirl past me right into the room. I try to push my way in behind them, but again, I’m blocked.

“Clear!” is the last thing I hear from the room before my life changes.

The door eases open and I just shake my damn head. “I said I got it,” I bark without turning back around. I just want to pack up my momma’s stuff in peace. I don’t want them to touch it and pack it up for me. All I asked for was thirty-fucking-minutes.

“It’s me,” I hear and turn to see Monae.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

“Daija called. Boo, I’m so sorry.” She steps closer timidly, then pulls me into her arms. “I’m so sorry,” she repeats as she holds me.

I have no words. None. My mother is gone. One minute we were talking about her lunch then less than an hour later, she was gone.SUDEP. Fuck SUDEP!She took a nap. A freaking nap and had a generalized seizure in her sleep. Sudden Unexpected Death in Epilepsy…shit! She’s gone.

I end our embrace but Monae doesn’t. She holds me a little longer then says, “Tell me what you want me to do.”

Finally, someone to help instead of trying to stop me.

“I need a box for her stuff. I have her clothes and shoes in the duffle. But the flowers, her throw, her bathroom stuff, I need a box or bag.”

“I’ll be right back.” She rushes out of the room and I grab my mom’s throw from the chair. I fold it and place it back on the chair. I walk toward the bathroom next and Monae comes through the door with a box. “It’s a copy paper box. Is this big enough?” she asks and I nod because it works.

Together, we get all of my mom’s things packed up in no time. Right before we walk out of the room, the aggravatingnurse who has been trying to kick me out for the last hour comes waltzing in.

“Greyson Funeral Home is here to get her. I thought you’d want to know,” she says.

“Thank you.”

Monae responds because it’s really fuck that nurse and this entire place because they lied to me. Six to eight weeks. That’s what they said. She was coming home in six to eight weeks; they fucking lied.

When we make it out to the parking lot, Just, Monae’s husband is standing by her Land Rover. She’s parked next to me. He walks over and takes the duffle from me and the box from Monae.

“Where are your keys? I’m driving you home,” Monae says.

“I’m not going home.”

“What? Where are you going?”

“To the restaurant. I need to tell my team. They can’t hear this from anyone but me.”

“Truce, you need to?—”

“Tell my team. They are family too and I don’t want them to find out from anyone else but me.”

“Fine. I’m taking you there and then home.”

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