Don’t Let Go

7. Tyler

7

Tyler

Three days ago, we were in Washington DC to allow the entire country to mourn for my father with a national memorial service. The United States President and a few members of Congress spoke of their favorite memories of my father. I, of course, had to stand in front of the hundreds who gathered to say something with all the reporters pointing their mics and cameras in my direction. I glanced over my shoulder at my father’s casket with the giant American flag draped over it, and all I felt was anger. Why did he leave me when I still needed him?

Since coming home from DC, my father had been lying in state inside the Rotunda of the Arizona State Capitol for an entire day. After a private ceremony, members of the public were invited to pay their respects.

Today was the personal funeral for close family and friends at a church in central Phoenix. It was quite a sight watching the Arizona National Guard carry my father’s shiny oak casket from the capital building to the hearse. Citizens who adored my father lined the streets holding candles, mini-American flags, flowers, and posters as the motorcade slowly drove past. Even though I was pissed my father picked politics over me, I could see that the people loved him. They lost a good senator. I lost my father to them, but I never imagined I’d lose him forever.

The church’s pews were filled with people I was mostly unfamiliar with. I usually met my father’s friends at social gatherings but never remembered their names. All I could do was smile and nod when they spoke to me. Thankfully, I was allowed to invite personal friends of my own. As for family, I didn’t know them either. Most of my mother’s family lived in Chicago, and what little remained of my father’s family lived in Tucson. We exchanged Christmas cards every year and ghostly followed each other on social media, but wasn’t that how most families worked?

The only family member I remembered was my Uncle Morgan, whom I hadn’t seen since last Thanksgiving. “Hey, Tyler. You’re looking good.” Uncle Morgan hit me on the back. “Sorry about your dad. I still can’t believe it. He was so young and to die by ill-prepared seafood.” He let out a low whistle. “What a way to go.” He shook his head and grasped my forearm. “Your father was a great man and I’m sure he’s very proud of you.”

I did the signature nod I’ve been doing for almost a week. I was turning into a bobblehead. “Thanks, Unc. How have you been?”

He pulled at his dark brown beard peppered with some grays. “Busy. My company is growing and I’m trying to stay on top of everything.” He put a hand on my shoulder. For some reason, people thought that if they touched you enough during a time of sadness, it somehow comforted you. It didn’t work for me. “I’m always around if you need anything. You remember that, okay?”

“Sure thing.” I ran my hands along my tie and looked for an excuse to leave.

He kept swirling the ice in his brandy glass. “I need to talk to you after the service.”

I put my hands in my pockets to stop messing with my tie. “Okay. Jacob told me I needed to shake everyone’s hand at the end and thank them for coming. I can talk after that.”

He took a step closer to me. “You shouldn’t have to do that alone. He was my older brother. I’ll stand next to you and then we’ll talk.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

He looked at the glass in his hand and then past me to the waiter. “I need another drink.” As he moved to leave, he patted my back once more. “Talk again soon.”

Jacob spotted me and waved for me to come over. “If he wants me to do another speech, I’m going to punch someone,” I muttered, walking toward him.

“Hey, Tyler. How are you?” Jacob took a sip from his whiskey. He kept looking around as if someone might pop out and scare him.

“I’m fine, considering,” I replied flatly.

Something behind me diverted his attention. “Good. Remember to shake everyone’s hand at the end. I gotta go.” He brushed past me. I watched him for a second. He shook hands with a tall guy wearing a tux, but I spied tattoos peeking past his collar. This guy didn’t look like any politician, he looked like a biker or someone fresh out of prison. He stood stiffly and squinted at people who walked by them as if they were talking about something that needed to stay under wraps.

I shrugged it off and scanned the crowd, finding Iris by the wall, looking at her phone. Finally, someone I didn’t mind talking to. I made a beeline for her to avoid any more useless chitchat.

“Hey Iris,” I said, testing the waters. We haven’t talked since I took off on her at that party after receiving the phone call about my dad.

“Tyler! You poor thing. I’m so sorry about your dad. I can’t believe this.” She kissed me and patted my hair back like I was a spooked horse.

“Thanks. It’s been a crazy week.” I ran a hand through my hair. The kitty necklace I gave her sat on her chest above her breasts.

Iris toyed with her braid and closed the distance between us, her lips brushing mine as she spoke. “After this why don’t we skip the reception and head back to your place?”

A sinister smirk curled my lips. “That would be wonderful after the hell of these past few days.”

Iris smiled and ran her hands along my chest, around my hips, and grabbed my ass. “Good. I’ve missed you.”

Quincy leaned against the wall and fake coughed. “Sorry to disturb your moment.”

I hit him on the arm. “Hey, man. Thanks for showing up. I’m sure this isn’t what you want to do on your Saturday.”

“You’d do it for me. What are brothers for?” He nodded toward the door. The entire team showed up. Basketball was a brotherhood and I thanked God for it at a time like this.

I pounded the fists of my teammates as I greeted them. The pastor stood at his pulpit and the choir quieted down. The service was about to start.

“Thanks for coming. It means a lot to me,” I said, leaving the team to find their seats somewhere in the back.

Iris took my hand and followed me to the first pew assigned for family only. My Uncle Morgan sat on the other side of me.

As the pastor spoke about good men and Heaven, I thumbed through the pages of the Bible I found under my seat. I needed a reason for all this, but as I skimmed random passages nothing stood out to me.

Stories were shared about my old man after the pastor’s speech. I sat there like a lump holding Iris’s hand. I had stories. I should’ve shared a few words, but I felt empty inside. I had done so many speeches and talked to so many reporters back in DC, I didn’t have anything else to say. My uncle seemed to understand and stood to say some final words about my father. I smiled my thanks as he went on about childhood stories.

After my uncle sat down, the pastor returned and wrapped up the service. “James Winston was our brother, our senator, our friend—” The pastor glanced at me. “—and father… is now with our Lord and Savior. Forever at peace, smiling down on all of us.” He closed his Bible and hugged it to his chest. “Now if everyone could please join the choir in singing ‘Amazing Grace’.”

Everyone stood and sang with the church’s choir. I glanced behind me and saw so many tear-stained faces, some too choked up to sing. My teammates struggled to sing along. Most of them looked pained, but they were trying. Next to me, Iris squeezed my hand and with her other hand held a tissue as she sang along.

Once the song ended, Uncle Morgan and I walked toward the back so everyone could shake our hands and say how sorry they were about our loss.

My team waved goodbye and ducked out so they didn’t have to stand in line. I couldn’t blame them. Iris kissed me and said she’d wait for me outside.

Strangers who claimed to be my father’s friends, whom I must’ve met at least once or twice at fancy government gatherings or on the campaign trail over the years, shook my hand and looked me in the eye. A lot of family members I’ve only seen in pictures on Facespace hugged me like we were somehow close all of a sudden. Some people placed a hand on my shoulder. A lot of women sobbed and hugged me too tight.

Always the same few sentences were uttered:

“I’m so sorry about your father.”

“He was a great man.”

“He’ll be missed.”

“Your mother and now your father, you poor thing.”

“You look just like him.”

“Thank you,” I replied for the thousandth time as the last guest left the church.

I let out a breath, running my hands down my suit. All the hugs and pats wrinkled my jacket.

I popped my neck and turned toward my uncle. “Thank you for standing next to me.”

He nodded. “It was what your father would’ve wanted.” He rubbed his hands together. I had a feeling he would kill for another drink. “So, now that I have you alone, I’d like to discuss where you’ll be staying.”

I lifted an eyebrow. “What do you mean? I’m staying at my house. I could also crash with a friend, but I’m not—”

Uncle Morgan swallowed too hard, making his Adam’s apple jump. “You’re still a minor, and you need a legal guardian. I’m unable to take on the role due to business, but your father did have someone in case anything like this ever occurred.”

My stomach dropped as if someone hacked into me. I was a pumpkin with its guts ripped out. “I don’t follow.”

He shifted his weight from one foot to another. “I’m sorry, son. The thing is—”

My uncle tried to explain, but I couldn’t hear him. He sounded like the adults in a Peanuts cartoon. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a gorgeous girl with long dark brown hair, and the little black dress hugged her hips and chest perfectly. Her green eyes locked with mine, and I felt weightless. She was a siren who could steal my soul at any moment. Her facial expression was grim. She looked me up and down as if I was a dangerous insect before glancing at the woman standing on her left who looked the same as her but about twenty years older.

Uncle Morgan shook my arm, making me look back at him. “Tyler, I know this is hard to hear, but Sofia Giordano has been appointed your legal guardian in your parents’ will. I’ll leave you to talk.”

Wait. What happened?

I licked my suddenly dry lips and stole a glance at the girl once more. She was watching my mouth. I smirked at her and her eyes darted toward her mother.

“Hello, Tyler. We’ve met before, but I’m sure you don’t remember since you were so little. I’m Sofia, your mother’s childhood best friend.” The woman motioned to the girl next to her. “This is my daughter, Aurora. I’m so sorry about your father and I’m sure you’re tired of hearing that.” She gave me a sad smile. Sofia had kind green eyes, the kind you felt like you could trust even though you didn’t know her. Aurora had a fire in her jade-green eyes. She seemed like the type who drew blood if you crossed her.

“I’m sorry. You lost me. You’re my legal guardian?”

She nodded. “Yes. Your parents picked me a long time ago. I can show you the paperwork later if you like. I know this has been a long, horrible day, so how about you stay at your house tonight, and we’ll start moving you out tomorrow?”

I felt like I had fallen into a wormhole, and words went through my ears, but their meaning changed, and my vision grew hazy. “I’m moving? Where?”

Aurora bit her bottom lip and I wondered what she tasted like. I shook my head. What the hell was wrong with me? I had Iris waiting for me outside.

Sofia ran her hands over my upper arms, smoothing out the wrinkles from all the hugs. “We live here in Phoenix. We’ll move you in and then work on transferring schools.”

I blinked my eyes rapidly as if that would somehow make time go back and save me from all this. “What?”

She had to be wrong. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t fair.

Aurora held her head up and leaned in closer. “You’re moving in with us I’m afraid, and I have to show you around South Ridge High next week. Lucky me.”

Her mother elbowed her in the ribs. “Aurora Silvana,” she hissed.

Aurora bowed her head, toeing a fallen rose on the floor with her black stiletto.

“I’m sorry for her outburst, but she’s right. I’ll leave you to absorb all this, and we’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.” Sofia touched my face and gave me another somber smile. “I can see both your parents in you. You’ve grown up so much.” With that, she left.

Aurora picked up the fallen rose and handed it to me. “For life be, after all, only a waitin’ for somethin’ else than what we're doin’; and death be all that we can rightly depend on.”

I wrinkled my forehead and accepted the rose. “Isn’t that from Stoker’s Dracula ?”

Aurora turned around, so she walked backward toward the door. “Yes. Yes, it is.” She then disappeared into the sunlight.

I rubbed my eye with the heel of my hand and looked around the empty church filled with flowers and my father’s casket still on the stage.

After collecting myself for a few moments, I walked outside. The parking lot was empty, all except Iris sitting in her Porsche listening to music. I rolled my shoulders and made my way toward her car.

As I sat down, she looked over at me. Her smile faded as a searching look came over her. “What’s wrong?”

I ran a hand over my face. “Never mind that now. Just take me home please.”

Without another word, she put the car in gear and headed home.

For the first time in my life, my future looked blurry. I had no idea what was waiting for me. I couldn’t even predict tomorrow. I had to be in a feverish nightmare and this twisted Twilight Zone world would shatter when I woke up. This couldn’t be real. This couldn’t be how my senior year of high school burst into flames.