When Will Mom Be Home?

Chapter Two

Cassandra's funeral was a week after the robbery. Being raised Baptist, her mother insisted on getting a pastor for the funeral service. I didn't want Jazmin to be there, watching her mother get put in the ground. I had my grandma, Clarice watch over her while we were all at the funeral. Jazmin was too young to understand what was happening, anyway.

"We're here today to bury Cassandra Thompson...She was a wife, a daughter, a sister, a mother, and a dear friend" the pastor started, standing beside the coffin at the cemetery, "I had the pleasure of watching Cassandra grow up into a fine women...we will all miss her dearly...I give my condolences to Cassandra's friends and family, especially her husband, Jalen and daughter, Jazmin"

The pastors words go through one ear and out the other whole my eyes focus on my late wife's coffin. My eyes begin to well up with tears and my throat feels as though someone lit a match and through it into my open mouth. A single tear runs from the corner of my eyes, trigger the words "boys don't cry!" In my ear.

I haven't seen my father since I was a kid but I can still hear him saying it. I'm still that defenceless little kid, pushed against that wall.

"You hear me, boy?" He spat, grabbing my jaw, his dangerous eyes wide open, glaring in to my soul. "Don't chu fucking cry, no boy of mine be crying!"

I shake my head, reverting my eyes back to the pastor. Breathing seems to be growing harder as the funeral progresses. I feel as though I'm going to be sick. How am I supposed to raise Jazmin, now? This wasn't the plan. It wasn't supposed to be like this. It was supposed to be me and Cass raising our kids, not me doing it all alone.

I'm now both Mom and Dad. I'll be the one to talk to her about racism and sexism while trying to help her navigate puberty and at some point give her a sex talk. It'll just be me trying to raise an out of control teenager. Jazmin's mother won't be at her own wedding.  Cass will miss our daughters wedding. She'll never meet our grandkids. Who the fuck am I kidding? I will never be both Mom and Dad. I can never fill Cassandra's shoes. She was Wonder-woman and I'm nothing more then an imposter.

I wonder if they have a twelve step program for those in my shoes? I'm willing to try anything to make this agonising pain go away. You hear about death all the time, but no one can prepare you for the pain of losing someone.

The fear has set in, making the air around me so thick that I can't breathe. Sweat drips down the sides of my face while I count down the minutes before the pastor stops talking.

When the funeral ends, we all drive to Cassandra's parents house for the wake. I sit outside beside the oak tree with a bottle of Bass Ale in my hand. I'm not ready to go home and see Jazmin. Everything will become real.

"Can I join you?" A voice says from in front of me. I look up to find Cassandra's younger sister, Beverley. I nod slowly, taking another sip of my beer. "Too many frantic people in there, you know what I'm saying?"

I nod again.

"I'm not ready for this" I admit, looking at all those people through the window dressed in black suits. "I don't know how to be both parents"

"Yeah it's fucked" Beverley says, taking a sip out of her bottle of beer.

I meet her gaze. Her eyes are pink and glassy. girls are allowed to cry. That's what I remember hearing from the other kids when I was young.

"She'll never see Jaz grow up" I choke on my words, reverting my gaze to the people in the distance. "We just came from her funeral service with some pastor going on about a merciful God...a God who let my wife, my baby's mother get killed" I take another sip.

She sighs. "I don't know what you want me to say to you," her voice is filled with sadness.

"Say nothing" I beg, looking down at the bottle, "that's what I wish all those people in there would do"

Beverly scoffs, taking a few steps away from me.

"I'm sorry" I tell Bev, making her turn around to face me. "I'm scared, okay. I just don't want to screw Jazmin up. I don't want to be the reason why she's in therapy and dates undeserving trash brothers and hates her damn father"

She sighs.

"You're not going to screw her up, Jalen" Beverly assures , "Jazmin will turn out just fine, with or without Cassandra. I promise you that"

"You don't know that" I roll my eyes.

"Yeah I do, you're the best father I know"

"Thanks" I soften my gaze.

She nods before disappearing into the distance.

What chance do I have at raising her right? I bet even those folks on day-time TV screw up their kids. I've never been afraid of the future, but now, I have this feeling deep down in my gut that I'm fucked.

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