Page 26 of Truce Of The Matter

“You up already?”

“Didn’t sleep at all,” he says and my heart breaks. I have no words, nothing to console him.

What can I say?

“Your sister in there fixing something to eat but I’m not hungry. I’m ready to go over to see your mom.”

“Daddy, I don’t think we’ll be able to see her today.”

“I’m not leaving there without seeing my honey. Whatever needs to be done needs to happen, Truce,” he says with finality. In his mind, no other options are viable and I will make sure he sees my mom today.

“I’ll talk to them.”

“Good. What time will you be over here?”

“Ten-thirty.”

“Alright,” he says then ends the call. I hit Daija next.

“Hey,” she answers, sounding more somber than my dad.

“Daddy said you were cooking?” I question that because Daija really isn’t a cook. In fact, she showed no interest in learning the family recipes. Even when she worked in the restaurant, she avoided the kitchen and only worked the cash registers.

“Oatmeal and I think, sausage,” she sighs. “And all she has is the plain kind and not instant either. Where did she keep the brown sugar? Damn! I can’t even find that,” she huffs, sounding frustrated as hell. I can also hear cabinets slamming.

“It’s in the canisters under the cabinets by the fridge,” I say calmly. “But you don’t have to cook. Daddy isn’t hungry and I can bring you something when I come.”

“He has to eat, Truce. He didn’t eat last night. He didn’t even sleep,” she mumbles and her voice cracks. “He’s not doing good and I’m worried about him.”

“None of us are doing good, but just like us, Daddy will be fine one day. It just takes time.” I try to assure her and my damn self. I’m really worried about him but would never admit that to Daija.Never!“Turn the stove off. Don’t cook. I can bring you something or you can order something.”

“I’m not even hungry. I ordered a pizza last night and ate a slice. The rest is in the fridge. Maybe I’ll eat later.” She pauses for a moment then speaks in an even lower tone. “I can’t see her, Truce. Please don’t let them have her where I can see her. I can’t handle that. I just can’t,” she cries.

“You won’t have to,” I assure her.

“Do I really have to go? You and Daddy can handle it and I can stay here at the house. People are going to try and come byanyway. You know how they do when someone…you know,” she says, pleading.

“If you really don’t want to go, you don’t have to,” I tell her and she exhales loudly, sounding relieved.

“Good ’cause I think someone should be at the house.”

Although I know my aunts, uncles, and even some cousins will definitely come to the house to receive people paying their respects, I don’t mention that. Instead, I let her have her way out of going to the funeral home. Hell, if the option was available for me too, I would probably take it.

“You’re right; it should be you. Stay. I’ll talk to Daddy and he’ll understand. Let me go get ready. Monae is here. I’ll be there to get daddy at ten-thirty.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too.” I end the call then fall on my bed.This is going to be a long ass day.

When I inhale and exhale, I smell him. Rex’s intoxicating scent has infiltrated my sheets and pillows. Monae is right; it’s definitely Creed. After taking his aroma in again, I sit up, say a small prayer for strength, then walk into my bathroom.

After wrapping my hair, I wash my face, brush my teeth, and gargle. I remove my heat-resistant pad from my top sink drawer and place my two-inch curling iron on it. Once I power my curling iron on high, I start my hot shower, undress, then step inside.

Normally, while showering, I mentally scan my closets and determine my fit for the day. However, right now, my mind is drawing a fucking blank.What the hell do I wear to make final funeral arrangements for my mom?

As I shower, I allow myself to cry. I can’t shed tears and be too distraught with my dad because I have to remain strong for him. When the last of my tears cascade down my drain, I rinse the body wash from my body and exit the shower. Aftermoisturizing my face, I oil my skin and curl my hair. My big curls are pinned when I exit my bathroom.

To my surprise, Monae is sitting in one of my oversized accent chairs. She’s obviously been in here for a while because my bed is made, my pillows are all in their proper places, and my black jeans and black wool sweater are laid out on the bed. She has even pulled out my favorite black boots with the shaggy shearling.

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