Jada felt Chelsea’s arm around her, rocking her, holding her, but it did little to bring comfort. Her fingertips tingled and she pressed them against the tiled floor, hoping to return some feeling through the contact.

Chelsea sobbed, her voice shaking. “I called Adam. He said he’ll be here in a few minutes.”

“You shouldn’t have called him,” Jada said. “He’s busy.”

“Jada…”

“Chelsea, Papi’s dead.”

“I know,” Chelsea said, trying to bring Jada’s head to rest on her shoulder. “He’s gone.”

Jada resisted. “Does that make any sense?”

“I’m sorry, Jada.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Jada hissed. She glanced up, looking for a doctor. “Bring him back!” she screamed. “Bring him back!”

“Ma’am,” the orderly ducked to their level, “please be quiet.”

Jada wanted to grab him by the collar and shake him until he made things right again. She wanted to scream the hospital down until someone told her that her grandfather was alive and breathing. She didn’t even need him to open his eyes or move again. She just needed him here.

“Could we just have a moment?” Chelsea asked the orderly.

“Of course,” he said, rising to his full height and stepping a few feet away.

“Just go ahead and cry,” Chelsea said. “Let it all out.”

That was the thing. Jada didn’t want to cry. Not yet. It hadn’t sunk in. She was still trying to make sense of this new turn. In what world did someone give hope just to yank it back? She’d been so sure, so certain, that things were looking up.

How had it slipped through her fingers so quickly?

“Let’s go sit down,” Chelsea said. “Does she have to see his… the body now? Can we come back?”

“Yes,” the man said, “when you return we can discuss everything in detail.”

Chelsea helped Jada up and led her to the waiting room nearest the morgue. Jada sat dismally in her seat and stared at the wall. In her mind’s eye, she replayed all her warmest moments with her grandfather.

Papi was not a demonstrative man. He never told her she was beautiful or that he loved her, but not once did she doubt any of those things.

She began living with Papi when she was fifteen years old and they’d both taken a while to get used to each other. She was an angst-ridden teenager who just lost her parents and he was a gruff laborer who had lived most of his life alone, but eventually he became her best friend.

From his humble sacrifice for months to afford her prom dress to the breakfast he cooked on her high school graduation day, Papi displayed his affection in the tiniest, most unobtrusive ways.

She was unable to even count all the times he had gone out of his way for her, as a parent, as a grandfather, and as a guardian. She hadn’t been able to give him back all that he had given her. She hadn’t been given a chance.

“Papi,” Jada moaned.

The sound of shoes squeaking against the tiled floor jerked her from her thoughts. Jada looked up and found Adam skidding around the corner. His eyes caught hers and he took giant steps forward until he stood right in front of her.

Tears falling down her cheeks, Jada simply leaned her head against his torso. Adam accepted her, placing his hand on her hair and stroking her head lightly. She sniffed and burrowed her head more securely against him.

“It’s okay, honey,” he said. “You can let it out.”

Jada sobbed, tears streaming down her face. She closed her eyes and tried to grapple with her loss. Adam held her, anchored her with his love, and she found strength in it. His patient care allowed her to scramble to the edge of madness without teetering over the cliff.

Papi was gone, and the reality of his death sunk in with all the gentleness of a tack sliding into each of her fingernails. In the midst of her pain and grief, she held on to Adam, listened to Chelsea’s crooning voice, and held herself there.

***

Adam’s heart broke for the woman before him. His inability to take on her wounds and bear them for her made him feel impotent and antsy. This was the gun shooting all over again.

Adam wanted to help Jada, but all he could think to do was hold her. As her tears soaked into the thighs of his pants, he briefly wished he was able to cover her eyes and let her forget, for just a moment, that this new reality was fixed in stone.

As the days passed, Jada seemed to sink further and further into herself. Adam was at a loss on how to tease her back to life.

On the day of Papi’s funeral, Jada met him outside the church. The place was packed with her family members. They wore black hats, black skirts, and black veils. The hum of muttered conversation paused when Jada walked down the aisle.

He felt the stares on his back as well. Adam knew that he stood out. He was one of the few Caucasian members in the church. Still, he held his head high and remained close to Jada’s side until she took her seat at the front pew.

As the funeral began and the various family members said their goodbyes, Adam stole looks at his girlfriend. She wore big black glasses over her eyes and her lips were one thin line across her face.

She gave no indication that she was even listening, and Adam wondered if Jada had fallen asleep. He reached over and held her hand, taking the chance that she would welcome his touch. To his surprise, she squeezed back so tightly that he feared she would cut off his circulation.

Adam bore the discomfort without making a sound. When Jada finally got up to give the eulogy, he looked down at his palm and noted the red marks there. Shaking out his hand, Adam listened to Jada’s last goodbye to her grandfather.

The lines were delivered efficiently. The clarity of her words and the depth behind the stories she shared did not reflect in her voice or on her countenance. Jada might as well have been reciting a grocery list.

When she returned to her seat, he felt the tension in the air. It was so quiet, a pin could drop. The preacher, too, seemed a bit uncertain with the tone and delivery of Jada’s eulogy and shakily resumed the service.

On the walk to the gravesite, Jada held his hand and didn’t let it go. He grew more and more concerned by her taciturn behavior until he finally could take it no more.

They drove to the house where the repast was being held. As soon as they arrived inside, he drew Jada into a small bedroom and locked the door.

“Are you okay, honey?”

She sighed. “I’m fine. Why does everybody keep asking that?”

Adam observed her closely. On the outside, nothing had changed. Her brown skin was still glowing and gorgeous. Her almond shaped eyes were ringed with something black that seemed to highlight her exoticness.

Her plump lips were shaded a muted pink and added to her air of vulnerability, further emphasized by the black dress that went to her knees and dipped further in the back. Yet, sadness was ingrained in her skin and reflected in her eyes.

Adam would give anything to lighten that sorrow just a bit.

“I’m worried about you.”

“Don’t be,” she said, sinking wearily onto the bed. “I’m not going to do anything.”

He followed her to the bed. “That’s the problem. Jada, you are free to do something. To do anything.” He took her hand. “When my mother died, all these people came at me, telling me that everything happens for a reason. That she was in a better place. I was angry and hurt, but I felt like everyone expected me to take their condolences and magically fix my heart.”

“Adam, I had no idea.”

“It’s okay to be angry. To cry a lot. You don’t have to be strong. Not in front of me.”

Jada nodded, her gaze turned away from his. She sniffed, a soft little whimper that was half-stifled as if it embarrassed her to let it out. Adam climbed onto the bed and held her. Jada turned into his vest and cried.

It was heartbreaking to hear her sobs, but he said nothing, allowing her to let out as much as she wanted. When she was done, the room fell into silence. Looking down, he realized that his girl had fallen asleep.

Tenderly, he lay her on the bed and turned the fan toward her before leaving and closing the door behind him.

Taking one tiny step forward, he ventured out into the mutedly festive living room. Immediately, discomfort set in. Without Jada to validate his presence there, the family eyed him warily.

He could almost see their thoughts. Why is this white boy here? Did he know Papi? Was he Jada’s boss?

Chelsea. He needed to get to Chelsea. At least she was a familiar face. Adam glanced around the room filled with drinking Creole people, but didn’t see Jada’s cousin anywhere around. He toyed with the idea of returning to Jada’s side but before he could pursue it, a thick woman with short, straight hair and large eyes emerged.

“Hello there,” she said.

“Hi.”

Those near to them quieted and leaned in to hear their conversation.

“I saw you sitting with Jada at the funeral. Are you two dating?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“What’s your name?”

“Adam Lockwood, ma’am.”

“He’s so well-mannered,” the lady said softly to a woman nearby. “I’m Shanty Kendrick, Chelsea’s mother.”

Adam’s eyebrows hiked and he gave the woman another look. She was very large and her face reflected her size, but when he looked closely he could see hints of Chelsea around her nose and mouth.

“Mrs. Kendrick, it’s lovely to meet you.”

“Please, call me Shanty. I know this is a tragic time, but could I speak to you?” She took note of the stares. “Privately?”

“Sure.”

Shanty led the way to the back porch and turned to look at him. “You have to excuse my family. They don’t mean to stare. It’s just… strange to see someone of your color coming around and dating one of us.”

“I don’t mean to offend.”

She slapped his back and chuckled. “Oh, it’s not offensive. It’s simply going to take some getting used to. We aren’t as traditional as that. Lord knows, we don’t have the right to judge our young people when we’ve made a mess of our own lives.”

Adam nodded. He knew a bit of Chelsea’s upbringing from his conversations with Jada. Now, he was doubly curious about why this woman wanted to speak privately with him.

“Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Nothing in particular,” she said, twiddling her thumbs. “How is my Chelsea?”

“Chelsea?”

“She doing alright? Working somewhere reputable?”

“She’s working at a bakery,” Adam said. “She’s doing well as far as I know.”

“Really?” Shanty blew out a breath. “Thank you, Adam. I usually get these updates from Jada, but I was too nervous to ask with everything going on.”

Adam nodded his understanding and looked out into the skyline. The bursts of orange and red painted the heavens like a brilliant canvas and a bit of the weight of the past few days crumbled from his shoulders.

“You seem like a nice man,” Shanty said and Adam turned to look at her.

“Thank you.”

“I hope one day, Chelsea will have the heart to recognize someone like you.”

Unsure of what to say, Adam chose to remain quiet.

Shanty laughed and hit him on the shoulder. “You should come around more, Adam. Give us a chance to get used to each other. There’s been too much sadness in our family lately. It’s about time things took a better turn.” She winked. “I’m talking about wedding bells.”

Adam blushed and that caused Shanty to crack up even more. Whistling a tune, the large woman turned and left him on the porch.