A Sad Soul Can Kill You Part 11

Serenity walked out of the kitchen as Tia tried to maintain a calm demeanor. "Why, Lorenzo?"

"Don't start, Tia," he warned her. "You know why."

"I know what you say," she continued, ignoring the tone in his voice. "And I know you used to always come with us."

"And you also know why I don't anymore, don't you?" he insinuated.

She looked at him hunched over in front of the refrigerator. He still hadn't turned around to face her.

"Don't you?" he repeated himself. The tone of his voice grew harsh.

"Your back?" she said putting her hands on her hips. "For two years?" She shook her head and walked out of the kitchen. "Same old excuse," she mumbled.

"What did you say?" he asked loudly as he followed behind her.

"I said it's the same old excuse!"

"How many times do I have to tell you?" he said. His agitation was escalating. "It's too uncomfortable to sit in one spot for an hour and a half!"

"But you can sit in front of the TV for hours at a time, right?" Tia's voice was laced with hostility.

"Yeah, but I'm in a recliner," he yelled. "That's a big difference!"

"You weren't in a recliner a few minutes ago when we came in!"

"Stop yelling!" Serenity intervened.

"Serenity," Lorenzo said, breathing heavily, "this is between grown folks."

"Okay, but can you stop yelling at Mama?"

"What about me?" His sleepy eyes suddenly grew wide. "You didn't hear her yelling at me?"

Serenity stared at him coldly.

"Oh, I guess not," he said. "You too busy talking to boys on the computer. You don't know what you talking about, little girl. You need to stay in your place."

She kept her gaze fixed on his pinpoint pupils. "I might not know what I'm talking about," she said as he turned and shuffled back to the living room, "but I know an addict when I see one."

Lorenzo turned around quickly.

"Serenity, be quiet!" Tia said.

"Is that what you're telling her?" Lorenzo asked.

"Go get in the car," Tia said to Serenity.

Serenity walked defiantly past both of them to the garage.

"I didn't tell her anything," Tia said to Lorenzo.

"Then what made her say that, Tia?"

"She's not stupid. Half the time you're gone. And even when you're here . . . you're gone," she said pointing to her forehead. "All you do is lie on that couch. Then you get up and stagger to the kitchen or the bathroom, and you think she can't put two and two together?"

He dropped down on the couch with a thud. "Y'all have a good trip," he said without looking at her.

She slammed the door behind her without responding.

Tia was still fuming as she merged onto I-94 West toward Milwaukee. Serenity sat beside her preoccupied with her iPod. Although her daughter had placed both earplugs in her ears, the distorted sound of music still filtered through.

Tia tapped Serenity firmly on her thigh. "Turn that down," she said.

Even though it took approximately an hour and a half to get to Milwaukee, Tia was thankful that she was still able to visit her mother and grandmother once a month.

When they'd first started taking the drive, Tia would point out to Serenity the cows and occasional horses they pa.s.sed. The animals stood grazing in the various fields off the highway without a care in the world.

In two years, things had changed. The endless miles of land had been eradicated by new developers eager to make their presence known, and new subdivisions had been constructed one or two miles apart from each other. The few farmhouses that remained looked out of place among the upscale houses for sale, and the visibility of cows and horses had decreased significantly.

Tia tapped Serenity's thigh again and pointed to her ears. She waited while her daughter removed the earplugs from her ears.

"Why did you say that?" Tia asked her.

"Say what?"

"That your daddy is an addict."

"Because."

"Because what?"

Serenity looked down into her lap. "Because he acts like one," she said.

"And how would you know how an addict acts, Serenity?"

"Well, let's see." She raised her head and looked up toward the car ceiling. "He's always sleeping on the couch, and sometimes when he talks it's all mumbled."

Tia sighed. "Just don't call him that again, understand?"

Serenity turned to look at her. "Why do you stay with him?"

"I'm trying to give him time, Serenity."

"Time for what?"

"I don't want to talk about that now." Tia exhaled deeply. "And what did he mean about you talking to boys on the computer?"

Serenity looked away then. "I don't know," she said.

"Oh, he just made that up?" Tia cut her eyes sideways at Serenity.

"Yeah," she said. "I was just talking to my friend. I wasn't talking to no boys."

"Well, you make sure you keep it that way," Tia said.

Serenity put the earplugs back in her ears. She thought about how her father had told her to stay in her place. What place was that? She turned the volume up on her iPod and began nodding her head back and forth as the music played loudly.

Tia pa.s.sed a highway marker that showed eighteen miles before they would be in Milwaukee. They rode in silence for a few more miles before Serenity turned off her iPod and turned to face her mother.

"Don't you ever feel funny being around Grandma and Great-grandma?" she asked.

Tia kept her eyes on the road. "Why would I feel funny?"

"You know, because of everything that happened when you were younger."

Tia had only recently told Serenity about her past, leaving nothing out except for her promiscuous ways. She'd told Serenity about Ida, and how she'd been sent to prison for the death of her son, Tia's brother. Then, she'd told her about the short time she'd spent in foster care, and how she eventually ended up being raised by her grandmother.

Tia glanced over at Serenity. "The past is the past," she said. "Everything bad doesn't have to stay bad, and we certainly don't need to carry those memories around with us. We can try to learn from them, but then we need to let them go." She adjusted the cruise control on the steering wheel. "If we don't, it makes a heavy load," she said.

"So you never feel funny?"

"Not anymore because the key is to be willing and able to forgive somebody who's done you wrong." She stared straight-ahead. "If you can't forgive," she said, "you're gonna have a hard time."

"Are we almost there?" Serenity asked.

"Serenity, we've made this trip a hundred times. You should know by now when we're almost there."

"I don't be paying attention," she said and turned her iPod back on, this time lowering the volume so the music wasn't quite as loud as it had been.

Tia pa.s.sed another highway marker. "A few more miles and we'll be pulling up in front of Grandma's flower shop," she said to Serenity whose only response was the continued nodding of her head.

Tia thought about how Ida had initially encouraged her to go into the floral business years ago when Ida had still been in prison. Although Tia had completed all of the online floral design coursework required at the Milwaukee School of Floral Design, when she'd given birth to Serenity everything had changed.

The night she became a mother was also the night she'd decided to leave Lorenzo. He'd almost missed the birth of their child, and his controlling and abusive ways had taken a toll on her. But then he'd begun to cry and had asked G.o.d to forgive him. And right there in her hospital room, he'd gotten down on his knees and repented. Not only had he renewed his relationship with Jesus, but he'd asked for her forgiveness as well so she'd made the decision to stay.

After Serenity's first birthday, Tia had decided to enroll in a traditional college and study nursing. Ironically, it was her mother who ended up enrolling and successfully completing the eight-week course at the School of Floral Design, and after working for a florist for several years, Ida had opened her own small flower shop, naming it Flowers To Go. Tia could still remember how elated Ida had been on opening day.

"Ain't G.o.d good?" Ida had proclaimed.

"Yes, He is," Tia agreed. She had been so proud of her mother. She had come a long way.

"You know when I started going to those Bible studies in prison," Ida had said to Tia, "I learned that G.o.d's plan for me didn't include a life of misery, hatred, and unforgiveness."

Tia had quietly listened to her mother's testimony.

"G.o.d opened my eyes," Ida had said. "He made me realize that I was a sinner in need of His forgiveness. I learned that through His grace and mercy, I could actually be set free from all my emotional pain. Everything," she said, and she'd placed her hand on the left side of her chest, "that was holding me down and keeping me a hostage.

"You know, Tia, I came to Jesus just as I was," she'd continued. "I answered His call of salvation. I accepted Jesus Christ as my Savior, and I was baptized in His name."

Tia remembered her mother's eyes growing misty as she'd continued her testimony.

"I asked G.o.d to forgive me," she'd said, "and He did. And then He turned around and gave me the strength to forgive others!"

Tia smiled.

"No, honey, that broken spirit of mine wasn't healed by my own strength." Ida had shaken her head feverishly. "Uh-uh. I been healed by the power of G.o.d. And you know what's funny?" she had asked Tia.

Tia remembered answering no.

"G.o.d set me free long before I was released from prison."

Tia recalled the gleam in Ida's eyes on the day she opened the flower shop.

"Won't He do it?" Ida had asked smiling.

Tia had looked at her mother-a living testimony. "Yes, He will," she said.

Chapter Twenty-one.

After the healing and reconciliation process had taken place between Tia, Ida, and Mavis thirteen years ago, Tia made a vow that she would not allow another gulf of emotional distance to form a barrier between the three of them again. That was the reason for her regular visits. She wanted to keep the bond between them close and make sure that Serenity had an ongoing relationship with both of them as well.

She parked her SUV in front of the lannon stone building, and she and Serenity got out of the car. A small silver bell attached to the top of the door jingled as they entered.

"Hey," Ida said coming from behind the counter. Her smile was almost as wide as her outstretched arms.

"Hey, Momma," Tia said, embracing her slender frame. "How are you doing?"

"I'm fine," she said. She turned to Serenity and gave her a full hug, and then stepped back to look at her granddaughter. "And how is my big girl doing?"

"I'm fine, Grandma," Serenity answered, smiling.

"Girl, every time I see you it looks like you've gotten taller."

"I think she has," Tia said. "You see she's taller than me now."

Ida waved her hand. "Hush," she said to Tia. "Everybody's taller than you."

Serenity giggled.

"Stand up straight," Tia said to Serenity.

Serenity stopped smiling.