Lessons || MJ

Lessons || Chapter 22

Author's Note: Alfre Woodard plays Leslie's mother. Feedback is appreciated.

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LESLIE

We finally boarded a plane to Florida the next day. I'd called the nearest precinct last night and a trusted cop informed me that damage toward Yvonne's home would be covered by law enforcement. The bad news only pierced at the idea of time. Renovations would probably take a month. Maybe two. Not once did she panic when I sat right next to her in the rows.

On the other hand, I mentally fumed. Those two bastards wrecked a place of shelter in the hectic life of this woman. I'd never felt so agitated. My head pounded with the most stress, but I could only think of Ma. Those ebony eyes. The light brown curls that always dropped around her aging but gorgeous face.

After quite some time, we landed and Yvonne smoothed the rental car toward a driveway. For the first time in months, I'd see Mommy again. Her tiny pink house stood proudly among the green yarded cul-de-sac, but I chuckled at the sight of a metal gate separating this residence. The same barrier protected my childhood home up north.

Yvonne shared a quick hug with me before I creaked the fence open. Our footsteps crunched against gravel sidewalk with every step. An overwhelmed but appreciative smile reached my face. Mommy would stand behind this door and offer a classic pat-hug to both of us. Even at a mature age now, I couldn't wait to feel her presence.

A faint sun gleamed overhead as I inched closer to the doorbell. Yvonne smiled almost bashfully just before my finger reached over. An expected buzz rang through our ears. About two minutes later, unlocking sounded and I came face to face with Joyce Claire Edwards. A widow. My mother.

Her opened both arms and I instantly fell into her embrace. A polka-dot nightdress covered her exhausted body. One purple hair-cap topped those curls in the name of possible shuteye. Despite no use of a hotcomb, she always insisted on that practice. At the same time, my mother was never too good for anything.

She welcomed Yvonne as expected, but kept a whispered conversation. I'd already walked inside to find the house practically vacant. Spotless. Ready for guests if need be. I'd rolled my suitcase into the living room, but immediately noticed the smell of a home cooked meal. Something I'd missed for a while.

Hushed voices continued at the door, but I soon looked over to find Ma and Yvonne standing right beside one another. Neither woman smiled, but both pairs of eyes glared at me. I sat up even straighter than usual out of respect for Ma and Yvonne lowered her eyes. My heart pounded over and over. A lump formed in my throat.

"At least you two are alive. Come on, girls. Dinner's ready." Ma finally said. A reasonably weak smile crept onto her face. Yvonne nodded. Happiness somehow reached her exhausted looks. I sighed, relieved. There was only silence before anything moved or even breathed.

I finally calmed nerves somehow and followed Mom into the small dining room. Yvonne trailed behind me within seconds. Not once the comforting silence of this home ease my heart. A selflessness of my own formed as expected when I considered Vonnie again. For a month or two, she'd be this homeless attorney unless one astonishing miracle took place right now. Even I couldn't run forever.

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THE KID

Joint funerals. Again.

I dropped my head in shame. Morris patted my shoulder as I thought of Leslie. Voices whispered both needs of strength as well as sympathy. My mother always felt humiliated, but my mind captured no other routine. Fitting into the norm rarely worked for me anyway. My father accidentally exposed gang life in during my high school years and I sadly felt hooked. Damn, John.

Marcus escorted limping Calvin as soon as damage their ended yesterday. Those sickos probably hid away in some cheap motel now. Bodyguards I'd known for years cried at Jesse's home-going for the first time in a while. These white-bearded and strong men shattered their pride for once, but I somehow kept it together after Denise's casket lowered further and further down into soil of Mother Earth.

At the compound, I finally pulled myself together worked out methods to find Leslie. Indiscreet members of the gang seemed to weave past authorities. Barely hiccuped as expected. I drummed a beat with the ball of my pen out of boredom My ears perked up like a dog when I heard footsteps entered this room. A lump formed in my throat due to rare edginess. The Glock still rested in my drawer just in case. Even partly opened now.

My cold stare watched two younger men walk into this place. Two of white-bearded guards tossed up pairs of hands, surrendering. I folded both arms and leaned back in my chair. Both of my heeled feet propped onto the desk. Unamused couldn't even begin to describe my feelings right now, but at least Calvin and Marcus didn't return. An awkward silence rounded this place before I spoke up.

"Who are you?" I asked the two. Younger than Tricky. One on the left side donned curly dark hair and skin probably close to my appearance. But still light. The other had been quite a few shades darker than Jerome. A leather hat fitted to the side of his head.

"I'm Maxwell Cooper. This is Darryl Jackson. Leather Hat answered while pointing to his friend. I didn't even what to think right now. Two more in the crossfire.