Free The Ties That Bind by Electa Rome Parks Page A

as I slept.
    He said,“Do you have to use the restroom, or can I get you some coffee?”
    “No, no thanks. I’m fine. Where are we?” I asked as I sat up and stretched.
    Christian said,“We have about another hour and a half before we reach Atlanta.”
    “God, how long have I been asleep? You should have woken me and had me drive some. I know you’re tired.”
    “No, I’m cool. Driving has always relaxed me, and you were knocked out. You look so peaceful when you sleep. Like an angel.”
    I laughed and said, “An angel with drool and all.”
    He looked at me for a few moments as if there was something more that needed to be said. I lowered my eyes first, and Christian got out of the car to finish gassing up. After our pit stop, I was fully awake, and I was determined not to start crying all over again. Uncle Larry was going to be all right. He was strong with the will to live. So as we rode into the early morning and watched the sun rise from Christian’s car, I talked and talked and talked about my uncle Larry.
    Right before we arrived at the hospital, I thanked Christian wholeheartedly for being there for me. He said that he would do anything for me because that’s what friends are for.
    As soon as we arrived on the eighth floor of the critical-care unit and went into the sterile waiting room looking for Mama and my other relatives, I spotted Mama over in the corner and I knew that we were too late. Uncle Larry had died only thirty minutes earlier. I don’t remember much from that point other than Christian holding me in his muscular arms, rubbing my back and telling me over and over that everything was going to be all right. He said that he would take care of me and everything was going to be all right. With those soothing words whispered in my ear, I believed him. It felt strange being in another man’s arms, but with Christian I felt safe and secure.

17
     
    Christian
     
    T ime stood still. It seemed like I sat in that sterile, cold waiting room consoling and holding Mia for hours. She was quite upset, as were other members of her family. Uncle Larry was loved, that was obvious. I think Mia had convinced herself that he was going to make it. I found out later that he had suffered a milder heart attack a few years earlier. Some people can never change old habits to healthier ones. I sat there and rocked and rocked and rocked Mia until her crying subsided.
    Everyone started getting up in a daze and making plans. Somebody finally got her uncle Larry’s widow, Aunt Ruth, to a car and home. We were meeting back over at her house. They decided that the funeral would be Monday, so they had to make most of the arrangements that Saturday, since the next day would be Sunday and businesses would be closed.
    Mia and I volunteered to make most of the phone calls to loved ones to give them the sad news and to do some of the running around for the older people. Mia was great; once she composed herself, she was up and running—ready to help out any way she could. And I was more than willing to assist. I made some phone calls and finally got in touch with Brice’s superior and left an urgent message for him to call.
    Mia and I were back at her aunt Ruth’s house, sitting around as friends, relatives and acquaintances were constantly in and out, bringing food and their condolences. There was food everywhere you looked, and we had tried to get Ruth to eat, but she wouldn’t touch a thing. She kept crying for Larry to come back to her. They had been married for almost forty years.
    This was bringing up so many memories that I thought I had forgotten or had at least tried to forget. This reminded me so much of when my Moms died. The food, the people, the looks of sympathy in my direction, the crying . . . This was too much. I had to get out of there and get a breath of fresh air. I had gone to the coatrack to retrieve my blue down jacket when Mia came around the corner.
    She asked, “Are you going out?”
    “Yeah, I