Ivory ran her fingers over an old sweater that her father gave her before she went to Michigan. It was his old Harvard sweater that he'd had for over 20 years. Tears gathered in her eyes, thinking of how she never prepared for this moment. She didn't think it would happen for another 20-30 years.
Ivory looked at her phone as it buzzed for the third time. She'd just left the doctor's office when her mother began blowing up her phone again. She sighed as she took a deep breath and answered the call.
Ivory listened to her mother intently, breaking down with each word. She dropped to her knees as she now only heard bits and pieces of what her mother said.
A heart attack
At 55, her father died of a heart attack. Ivory did what she could to stay on the phone with her mother, sending her condolences before ending the call.
She'd been on the phone long enough to know that he had a heart attack while she was in Paris and asked to see her as his dying wish. He passed away a week later, but Ivory never answered her phone.
Her mother texted her the funeral details and told her not to be late, showing her old ways, which Ivory hated.
She laid in her bed for another few days, going back into the funk she was trying to get out of.
Ivory looked herself over in the mirror one last time, rubbing her hand over her stomach. She grabbed her purse off of her bed and looked around her childhood room. They decided to bring his body back to the states in California, which was his home.
She then stepped into the small hallway and quickly spotted her mother standing against the wall with a straight back and crossed arms.
Ivory knew that look anywhere. She'd done something to disappoint her mother, which wasn't hard to do. Ivory averted her eyes to the ground, avoiding her mother's cold glare as she walked past her.
She heard the clinking of her mother's heels, but didn't look back at her . Instead, She quickly walked into the kitchen, where a few family members had gathered.
They were a few close relatives that lived in the states, but she didn't see them often.
"Hey Aunt Jillian ", Ivory said, hugging her father's only sister. Since they moved, Jillian occasionally came to the house and kept it in mint condition.
Jillian smiled lightly at her niece, knowing that she was hurting.
" Hey sweetheart. How's school been going for you? ", she asked politely.
Ivory thought of her declining grades and decided that Aunt Jillian didn't need to know everything.
" It's going good. How's Achebe? ", she asked, changing the subject to her slightly younger cousin.
Jillian sighed as she thought of her youngest daughter. Achebe just turned 17 and her bad decisions seemed to increase with age.
" You know how she is. She doesn't want to listen to anybody, but that no good boyfriend of hers", she said, rolling her eyes.
"She'll see his true colors soon enough Aunt Jillian. Sometimes the Lord allows for people to repeatedly hurt you so you have no choice but to let them go", Ivory spoke, letting her old soul peek through.
Jillian patted her hand and nodded her head
"I just hope she doesn't see the truth when it's too late ", Jillian spoke, feeling that her daughter would do something she would regret soon.
YOU ARE READING
Ebony
Romance"Put down the bleach. Your skin is not dirt that needs to be cleaned out like yesterday's shirt. You are comprised of sienna, chestnut, and warm mahogany. Dark as the night sky, constellations are tucked neatly underneath your bones. Your skin remin...
