Lady Luck
Page 93
Bessie would. She’d been doing it awhile. She would do it forever.
Three good things in my whole, f**king, entire life – Bessie, Honey and Ella.
And the fourth was dying in Colorado.
“I’ll get packed,” I whispered.
“That’s my baby,” she whispered back. “Now, I’m gonna let you go and call our Bess, yes?”
“Yes,” I replied quietly.
“Pack, baby.”
“Okay, Ella.”
I heard her disconnect. Then I felt it slice through me leaving nothing but raw in its wake.
Then I pulled my shit together and started packing.
* * * * *
One hour later…
“I saw him,” Bessie said.
We were in her car on the way to the airport.
“What?” I asked, my mind on other things, my head so full it was aching, about to explode.
“With you on the beach,” she went on.
I sucked in breath and stared out the windshield.
Then I whispered, “Bess –”
She kept going. “Watched,” she whispered. “Watched him with you. Didn’t go to you, the way he was…” She cleared her throat. “The way he was with you. I liked it, Lexie.”
I closed my eyes, clenched my teeth then opened them and begged, “Stop.”
She was silent.
Then she wasn’t.
“Thought you took so long to call me for dinner, he was gettin’ through to you. You called, I was surprised. All these weeks, kept thinkin’ how I could tell you, how I could talk you into –”
“Stop.”
She stopped.
Then she started again.
“Shoulda talked you into givin’ him another shot.”
She should have. She should have done that.
But even if she did, I wouldn’t have listened.
“Doesn’t matter now,” I whispered.
“No,” she said gently, “doesn’t matter now, Lexie.”
It didn’t matter now.
Nothing mattered now.
She fell silent and kept driving.
* * * * *
Ten hours later…
I’d run the gamut, convincing myself my voice would be the miracle healing elixir that would wake Ty up the minute I whispered in his ear in his hospital bed and set him to healing to knowing by the time my plane touched down at Denver International Airport that he’d be dead by the time I arrived.
I struggled through the stupid, insane, trying process of hauling my ass down a concourse and into a f**king subway to get to the terminal (who ever heard of such ridiculousness, you had to get somewhere, you got there, you didn’t need then to get on a f**king train in the f**king ground, hours in the air then you’re underground? Insane!) then that f**king train expelled me and what had to be seven thousand other people, I jockeyed for position with them to get to the f**king escalators, I finally got to the terminal and there was Julius and a very beautiful, slim, elegant but highly accessorized (and all of her accessories were pure gold) black woman.
He enfolded me in a hug and informed me gently that Ty was holding on. Then she (her name was Anana) enfolded me in a hug then we waited what felt like a year for my big bag, the only one I had so the one I had to use, to come out at baggage claim and then they led me out to Ty’s Cruiser.
I nearly lost it the minute I saw Ty’s car, a car we bought together, a car that, upon seeing, irrationally I had the thought I could not set my ass in because it wasn’t his, somehow it was ours and I couldn’t deal with a reminder of what used to be the beauty of us, an us I threw away. I had to get away from it, run, find a way to go back in time and make the right decision, turn in Ty’s arms on the beach, put mine around him and accept back into my life the us he came all the way to Florida to give back to me.
But both of them saw me losing it and took control, getting me in, getting me buckled and getting us on our way.
Shortly after, I hit a fog then shortly after that, I hit understanding – pure and undiluted.
What the f**k was I doing?
If Ty lived for me to see him die, he was still going to f**king die.
My tall, beautiful Ty with his amazing curly, thick lashed, light brown eyes and his fantastic tattoos and his defined muscles and his deep voice calling me “baby” and “mama” was going to die.
What did it matter if I saw him breathe again before he did it?
What did anything matter?
God, why couldn’t I have done it even when I tried? Why couldn’t I have found my way to nothing mattering before Lady Luck, the stupid f**king bitch, took my f**king Ty?
So I shut down because it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered.
Not anymore.
Except I’d be there for the funeral.
So, shut down, I didn’t notice it until Julius had already hit the garage door opener to the condo, the door was up and he was pulling in.
Seeing the Snake hit my eyes as we slid in beside her, a new slice traced though the ragged edges of raw leaving agony in its wake and my head, resting on the window, came up.
And I was so out of it, my mind so saturated with sorrow nothing penetrated, it didn’t occur to me that there was the Viper, right there, shining, in one piece, without even a scratch.
“What are we doing here?” I asked.
“Need to get somethin’,” Julius mumbled.
I looked around, confused.
All this rush, me flying three quarters of a continent to get to Ty’s bedside in order to perform my wifely death vigil and we were making a pit stop at Ty’s house?
“Julius, I don’t mean to sound…” I paused, “but… I…” I hesitated then pulled it together when he turned and looked through the seats at me. “I’d really like to get to Ty,” I finished on a whisper.
His eyes went out the side window and he looked at something. Then he looked at Anana. Then he looked at me.
Then, “I won’t be a second,” was his totally f**king unhinged reply.
I gawked at him.
He threw open his door and folded out of the car.
Anana spoke, “Honey, why don’t you go on up with Julius? You gotta use the bathroom?”
Actually, I did.
So, since we were making this f**king ridiculous stop to do whatever the f**k Julius had to do while my husband was dying somewhere close, I’d use this time to visit the bathroom. And during that time, I’d convince myself, after I watched my husband die, the husband I let go, the husband who tracked me down in order to try to win me back, the husband I told to go away, the husband who, the last thing he heard from me was me calling us a nightmare, after I watched that husband die, while I was taking a bathroom break before that happened, I’d convince myself I wouldn’t f**king kill Julius.
Three good things in my whole, f**king, entire life – Bessie, Honey and Ella.
And the fourth was dying in Colorado.
“I’ll get packed,” I whispered.
“That’s my baby,” she whispered back. “Now, I’m gonna let you go and call our Bess, yes?”
“Yes,” I replied quietly.
“Pack, baby.”
“Okay, Ella.”
I heard her disconnect. Then I felt it slice through me leaving nothing but raw in its wake.
Then I pulled my shit together and started packing.
* * * * *
One hour later…
“I saw him,” Bessie said.
We were in her car on the way to the airport.
“What?” I asked, my mind on other things, my head so full it was aching, about to explode.
“With you on the beach,” she went on.
I sucked in breath and stared out the windshield.
Then I whispered, “Bess –”
She kept going. “Watched,” she whispered. “Watched him with you. Didn’t go to you, the way he was…” She cleared her throat. “The way he was with you. I liked it, Lexie.”
I closed my eyes, clenched my teeth then opened them and begged, “Stop.”
She was silent.
Then she wasn’t.
“Thought you took so long to call me for dinner, he was gettin’ through to you. You called, I was surprised. All these weeks, kept thinkin’ how I could tell you, how I could talk you into –”
“Stop.”
She stopped.
Then she started again.
“Shoulda talked you into givin’ him another shot.”
She should have. She should have done that.
But even if she did, I wouldn’t have listened.
“Doesn’t matter now,” I whispered.
“No,” she said gently, “doesn’t matter now, Lexie.”
It didn’t matter now.
Nothing mattered now.
She fell silent and kept driving.
* * * * *
Ten hours later…
I’d run the gamut, convincing myself my voice would be the miracle healing elixir that would wake Ty up the minute I whispered in his ear in his hospital bed and set him to healing to knowing by the time my plane touched down at Denver International Airport that he’d be dead by the time I arrived.
I struggled through the stupid, insane, trying process of hauling my ass down a concourse and into a f**king subway to get to the terminal (who ever heard of such ridiculousness, you had to get somewhere, you got there, you didn’t need then to get on a f**king train in the f**king ground, hours in the air then you’re underground? Insane!) then that f**king train expelled me and what had to be seven thousand other people, I jockeyed for position with them to get to the f**king escalators, I finally got to the terminal and there was Julius and a very beautiful, slim, elegant but highly accessorized (and all of her accessories were pure gold) black woman.
He enfolded me in a hug and informed me gently that Ty was holding on. Then she (her name was Anana) enfolded me in a hug then we waited what felt like a year for my big bag, the only one I had so the one I had to use, to come out at baggage claim and then they led me out to Ty’s Cruiser.
I nearly lost it the minute I saw Ty’s car, a car we bought together, a car that, upon seeing, irrationally I had the thought I could not set my ass in because it wasn’t his, somehow it was ours and I couldn’t deal with a reminder of what used to be the beauty of us, an us I threw away. I had to get away from it, run, find a way to go back in time and make the right decision, turn in Ty’s arms on the beach, put mine around him and accept back into my life the us he came all the way to Florida to give back to me.
But both of them saw me losing it and took control, getting me in, getting me buckled and getting us on our way.
Shortly after, I hit a fog then shortly after that, I hit understanding – pure and undiluted.
What the f**k was I doing?
If Ty lived for me to see him die, he was still going to f**king die.
My tall, beautiful Ty with his amazing curly, thick lashed, light brown eyes and his fantastic tattoos and his defined muscles and his deep voice calling me “baby” and “mama” was going to die.
What did it matter if I saw him breathe again before he did it?
What did anything matter?
God, why couldn’t I have done it even when I tried? Why couldn’t I have found my way to nothing mattering before Lady Luck, the stupid f**king bitch, took my f**king Ty?
So I shut down because it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered.
Not anymore.
Except I’d be there for the funeral.
So, shut down, I didn’t notice it until Julius had already hit the garage door opener to the condo, the door was up and he was pulling in.
Seeing the Snake hit my eyes as we slid in beside her, a new slice traced though the ragged edges of raw leaving agony in its wake and my head, resting on the window, came up.
And I was so out of it, my mind so saturated with sorrow nothing penetrated, it didn’t occur to me that there was the Viper, right there, shining, in one piece, without even a scratch.
“What are we doing here?” I asked.
“Need to get somethin’,” Julius mumbled.
I looked around, confused.
All this rush, me flying three quarters of a continent to get to Ty’s bedside in order to perform my wifely death vigil and we were making a pit stop at Ty’s house?
“Julius, I don’t mean to sound…” I paused, “but… I…” I hesitated then pulled it together when he turned and looked through the seats at me. “I’d really like to get to Ty,” I finished on a whisper.
His eyes went out the side window and he looked at something. Then he looked at Anana. Then he looked at me.
Then, “I won’t be a second,” was his totally f**king unhinged reply.
I gawked at him.
He threw open his door and folded out of the car.
Anana spoke, “Honey, why don’t you go on up with Julius? You gotta use the bathroom?”
Actually, I did.
So, since we were making this f**king ridiculous stop to do whatever the f**k Julius had to do while my husband was dying somewhere close, I’d use this time to visit the bathroom. And during that time, I’d convince myself, after I watched my husband die, the husband I let go, the husband who tracked me down in order to try to win me back, the husband I told to go away, the husband who, the last thing he heard from me was me calling us a nightmare, after I watched that husband die, while I was taking a bathroom break before that happened, I’d convince myself I wouldn’t f**king kill Julius.
