For the Better

Chapter 8

Out of nowhere, it was like things started to look up and get better. The grocery store down the street called me back to offer a full time position cutting meat. The pay wasn't great, but it was steady enough for the moment. Anita offered to help me get a car, and I started thinking about picking up a trade or two after she told me about some degree programs I could enroll in nearby. I knew it was going to be an uphill battle, but knowing I had her love and support made a nigga feel invincible. At the end of the day, I just wanted to work hard to give baby girl the world.
I had just arrived inside the building from a long day at work when I felt my cell phone buzz in my pocket. I pulled it out of my pocket. It was my aunt Helen. I entered the elevator as I answered the call.
"Hello?"
"Jo?"
"Aunt Helen?"
"Hi, Jo."
"Hi." Her voice had a hint of nervousness, but it didn't make me nervous. I loved her like a second mom, but my aunt always was high strung.
"Baby, I'm so sorry.." She sobbed.
I felt my stomach tighten. Why was she apologizing? "What is it, Auntie? What's wrong?"
"Your mother passed."
Everything around me seemed to fall silent. The words echoed through my head, but I couldn't believe it.
"Jo?" She called my name.
"I'm here." I searched for words.
"When? How?"
"Last night. You know she was sick for a long time. She never woke up." I could hear her holding back sobs.
"I want you to take care of yourself and keep yourself safe and out of trouble, boy, do you hear me?" I couldn't form words. My mind was all over the place.
"You all I got left of my sister. I can't bear another funeral.." her voice trailed off. I heard her sniffling on the other end. I knew she was in pain. After a moment or two, I finally spoke.
"It's okay, Auntie. Don't cry. I'm staying with Anita."
"Oh, you're back together? I'm so happy to hear that."
"I'll call you tomorrow to help with the funeral." I said nervously.
I could hear her nervous, distressed breathing. "Ok, goodnight." She said weakly.
"Goodnight, Auntie. It's gonna be ok."
I hung up with my aunt to find Anita walking in. She took one look at my face, and knew something was wrong.
"That was my aunt Helen. My mom passed away last night."
I watched her facial expressions change from calm to shocked.
"Yeah." I sat down on the couch.
"I'm so sorry." She finally said.
"Death is inevitable." I said.
"Are you okay, Jo?"
"I will be. My mama been dead a long time now. She died when she brought that dude into our lives."
Anita hesitated.
"At least she's not in pain anymore."
Her words actually consoled me. It was hard all my life watching what she'd done to herself and let others do to her, but at least now she wasn't stuck in her cycle of pain anymore. Life can really slap the fuck out you, I thought, shaking my head.
"My aunt wants to have the funeral next week.
"Do you want me to come with you?"
"I wouldn't mind." I didn't want to seem too eager, but the truth is, I needed her there with me. I laid my head in her lap, trying to slow my racing thoughts.
"I'll be there for support." She said, inviting me to her warmth and comfort.
    The funeral was everything I had anticipated. It was small, with no more than about 10 attendees. Half of them weren't even family. My mom made a lot of enemies when she got with that bastard. The service was quick. Only aunt Helen spoke. Her eulogy of mom was rather awkward as she struggled to find positive attributes. My mother didn't exactly make the best decisions in her life, especially when it came to making important, life-changing decisions. God rest her soul. Her casket was beautiful. It was a light pink, which was her favorite color. Anita stood by me the entire service and held my hand when the pastor invited us to view her body in the casket, but I refused to get up and look. I couldn't bring myself to do it. A cousin of mine named Doug got shot when I was 12. Aunt Helen warned me not to look in his casket at the funeral, but I was a dumb, curious kid. The paleness of his skin, the length of his nails, and a grim look on his face as if he knew he had left this earth in vain imprinted themselves in mid for years to come. I grew up fighting with Doug. We couldn't get along for shit, but when I saw his body in the casket, I hid from the crowd at the grave site and cried for hours. Imagine what seeing my mama in that casket would do to me. I refused to remember her in her casket. I wanted to remember who she was before my stepdad, before the abuse, and the drugs.
    Throughout the service, memories of my days of living with my mom swirled around my thoughts. I was always running to grandma and aunt Helen's place for dinner and a quiet place to sleep. Aunt Helen had a nervous breakdown following a string of miscarriages and discovering her husband was cheating on her almost as early as the day they got married. After she divorced him, she moved back in with Grandma. That was back before grandma passed. I looked around the chapel and realized I hadn't seen any familiar faces from Frank's family. Those motherfuckers knew better, I thought. Then, I quickly chastised myself for cussing in church. Mom devoted her whole life to that man, I thought, and he did nothing but use and abuse her.
I said nothing the entire ride home. Anita didn't say much either. I slumped into the seat around the dining room table when we got back from the service.
Anita headed into the kitchen and got me a glass of water. She brought it to me, and took a seat not too far away.
"It was a beautiful service." She murmured. She raised her head to look at me.
"She would be so proud to see you now, and everything you're working so hard to accomplish." She said as she grabbed my hand and held it in hers.
I fought like hell to keep the tears away. "Thank you for coming." I kissed her forehead and held her close. "I'm always here for you, no matter what." She squeezed the tears right out of me. I buried my sobs in her shoulder, and she stroked the back of my head. I cried for what seemed like minutes on end. Finally, I gathered myself, sat up straight, and wiped my face. I didn't want her to see me cry. I know my mom just died, it was natural and all, but I hated to cry in front of anyone for anything. She rose to her feet. "Let me make you something to eat, baby."
The first few days of October dredged on, seeming to never end. I worked my ass off to block out that numb feeling the best I could. I picked up extra shifts at the store, and soon, I got promoted. A few weeks after that, Anita cosigned on a car for me to get back and forth. She really held me up in a dark time. She kept a smile on her face, always encouraging me. When I first started picking up extra shifts, I thought she'd trip and think I was laid up with another bitch somewhere, but surprisingly, she was cool with it.
"Do what you gotta do, baby. I understand." She hugged me tight, then raised her head for a kiss.
November soon arrived. Anita talked about Thanksgiving and the special dinner plans she had for her, myself, and her grandmother. I came in one night after a double at work, ready to collapse in bed.
"Babe, I'm home," I said, hanging up my coat. No answer. I checked my phone to see if she'd told me she was going somewhere and I forgot. No texts. I walked towards the hallway to the bedroom and bathroom.
"Anita, baby, you here?"
"Hey, babe, I'll be out in a sec." She called from the bathroom. Her voice sounded funny.
"You okay?" I asked her.
"Yeah, I've been feeling kind of sick."
"Ooh, you want me to make you some soup? I can whip something up right quick if your stomach aching," I called out while walking towards the kitchen to see what we had.
She didn't answer.
I opened the fridge and analyzed the shelves.
"Jo."
I spun around to see her standing a few feet away. The nervous look on her face started to make me uneasy. "What's wrong? Did you eat something bad?" She opened her mouth, but no words came out. Then, she pulled a small, white stick from behind her back and put it in my hand. It was a pregnancy test. I held it up to the light.
Positive.
Holy shit.