Cosa Nostra

I don’t particularly like attending funerals. May I add that this will be my first and last? This old, drafty cathedral has been here since the city was founded in 1883. Good old Lancaster, West Virginia, is known for its outlandish nightlife. It gives me the creeps, but I’m here to support my best friend, Jadette, on the passing of her grandmother.

I would’ve been ok with sitting in the back. But Jadette insisted I sit with her and her family at their grandmother’s homegoing. We’ve been best friends since preschool. She was an only child, and I have four siblings. Her house used to be a vacation for me. She was four months older than me and never let me forget that. We spent every weekend together. Even long after her parents put her in private school after 3rd grade, they offered to pay for me to go with Jadette. My parents refused the offer. I never forgave them for that. You’d think that at 27 years old, I’d be over it, but I'm not. Who knows how different my life would’ve been? Looking around the church, I noticed the vintage red drapes, the gold relics, and every movement that echoed around the place. This Cathedral reminds me of a museum. Kind of expect, with a pipe organ playing softly in the background. My eyes finally landed on Mrs.Evelyn Carbonne in her casket.

My heart broke. Mrs.Evelyn was a lovely woman. She always had such pretty brown skin and a beautiful smile with white teeth. She was short with a curvy, full figure. She had long, shiny, silver, curly hair. She was never rude, but she could be stern. She gave the best advice for any problem someone ever had. She is always dressed to impress. In her hands was a gold Rosary. It was her favorite of all her Rosaries. She never told us why it was so dear to her. It looked expensive, but I don’t know much about jewelry. Remembering the summers Jadette and I spent at her house. I felt like a princess. Like I was royalty for a couple of months each year. Mrs. Evelyn always made sure I was fashionable and elegant. There were yacht trips, vacations, laughter, and love. I even attended a few family events.

Mrs.Evelyn was Mr.Carbonne’s mother; the Carbonnes were of African-American and Italian descent. I never met Jadette’s grandfather, but he was an Italian immigrant. I was getting lost in their family history, so I lightly shook my head to bring myself back to the funeral. It was ending, and the casket was closed by those who I presumed were the pallbearers. As I watched them, I noticed someone staring at me. I looked to the left of me. A man was sitting five people down from me. He was pale, with blue eyes, a sharp jawline, and short blonde hair tapered on the sides. He was gawping at me. He’s dressed in an all-black suit and has a muscular build. He saw me looking at him and winked at me. I had to contain the urge to roll my eyes, but I gave him a shy smile because he was handsome. Everyone is asked to stand and file in a single line to leave the church.

As we mingled outside the Catholic church, I noticed how expensively dressed everyone was. It made me feel shy about my simple black dress from Amazon. Jadette left me by the front door to talk with some family members I once met at a family gathering at Jadette’s childhood home. But I couldn’t recall their names. I stood there looking at my hands as I crossed and uncrossed my fingers. “Hello, Nettle, my other daughter.” I hear Mrs. Carbonne call out to me. I lift my head just in time to be hugged by Jadette’s mother. I hug her back tightly. She lightly pushes me back to get a better look at me.

I see her eyes are rimmed red and filled with tears. “Hi, Mrs. Celine,” I say, excited to see her. I see Mr.Carbonne off in the distance, talking to a group of men all dressed in black. Black suits, ties, leather shoes, and trench coats. Except Mr.Carbonne had on a red tie with a black hat with a red stripe wrapped around it. The red looked great, and his complexion was light-skinned. Whatever they were talking about was intense. I look back at Celine. She and Mr. Carbonne just came back from Bora Bora. It’s funny how life works. One moment, you are having the time of your life, and then the next, your life feels like it is crumbling down. Her long, curly brunette hair was pin-curled and covered with a black hat and a black face veil. Her black Giorgio Armani dress fits snugly. Her black Saint Laurent logo heels make her 5’7 frame 4 inches taller. The red silk gloves up to her elbows compliment her long, thin arms.``How have you been, darling? She asked. I was about to answer her when Jadette approached and interrupted us. “Mom, I’m going to miss Grandma,” she whines and crumbles, crying into Celine’s arms. I get closer to holding on to my best friend and her mom. The three of us were snotty and crying when we heard a man clear his throat. We slowly untangle from each other’s embrace. “Neville, honey,” Celine says breathlessly through sniffles. “Honey, the limo is waiting for us.” He states in a factual tone.

Gesturing to the limousine with a wave of her hand, Celine walks gracefully to the waiting driver, still crying. “Are you riding with us, Jade and Nettie?” I looked at a crying Celine through the car’s open door, sitting in the back seat. “No sir, I drove my car, Mr. Carbonne,” I smiled shyly. “Daddy, I’m riding with Nettie.” She asserts, pulling me away. “Sure, but Delano is riding with you both.” He says, leaving no room for Jadette to protest. “Yes, sir.” She wraps her arm around my waist and pulls me to my car.

As we approached my 2020 black Toyota Rav4, the man who was staring at me during the funeral was standing next to my car. “Delano!” Jadette shouts and full-blown sprints in her expensive heels. He catches her in mid-air and hugs her. Squeezing his neck, she says, “It’s been years; how are you? How was France?″ He laughed, “We’ll have time to talk after the burial, Jadette.” Placing her back down, he looks at me. He has a deep voice with a heavy French accent. My heart melted. Not wanting to gawk at him, I smiled at my best friend. Jadette sees him staring at me. “Oh, sorry. This is my best friend, Nettle. Nettle, my favorite cousin, Delano.” She mutters, realizing this is our first meeting. “Hi,” I say as I get lost in his blue eyes, which I have to crane my neck to look at since I’m only 5 feet tall. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to drive, please.” He uses the same authoritative voice Mr. Carbonne used on Jadette only moments ago. “No, I can drive just fine,” I say as I retrieve my keys. “That’s not an option, Miss Nettle.” With stern eyes, he held his hand out for my keys. “Ok, sir, you’re tripping. I’m driving MY car. How did you even know this was my car?” Feeling apprehensive, I take a few steps back, preparing to run if needed. Jadette huffed. He didn’t answer me, so I sidestepped and unlocked my car doors. “Jade, I know you aren’t still sour about me not letting you buy me a car?” I nearly yell at her. My keys are snatched out of my hand. “Sorry, Miss Nettle. We have to hurry, “he said, running to open the right back passenger side door for Jadette. “What the absolute fuck, dude?” I yell, enraged. He ignored me, opened the front right passenger side door, and gestured for me to enter. “Nettie, please just get in. If he damages it, I’ll buy you two cars that look the same as this one and watch your mouth. We are by a church.” Knowing my best friend, I hurt her. I might apologize later, but I’m mad as hell right now. I decided to just get in my car. I folded my arms and stared out the window.

We were the last car to fall in line because Delano had to adjust my seat. He was at least 6 feet in height. We make it just in time as prayer is being said. Delano opens our doors, and we walk quickly to the burial site. We stayed in the back to keep from disturbing the service. After a few more words of encouragement to the family from the priest, the service was over, and everyone was standing around talking. I decided to sneak off without saying goodbye. I realized Delano hadn’t returned my keys when I reached my car. I heard shoes hitting the pavement as I turned to see who was coming. It was Delano, the devil himself. “Sorry, here you go, Miss Nettle.” He said, stopping too close to me. Damn, he was tall. Moving my eyes from the suit buttons to his face was almost neck-breaking.

I was taking my time to look at the neatly buttoned black shirt that hugged his muscular body. “Thank you,” I said, still pissed at him. I snatched my keys, got in my car, and closed the door. Adjusting my seat, I know he is still standing next to my car. Without looking at him, I press my window button. “Move if you want to keep your toes.” I was quietly wishing he would stay there so I could run his feet over. “If you want to keep driving, you better get that check engine light looked at,” he says smugly, his accent very apparent. At that, I drive off, not caring if I run his ass over. Looking in the driver’s side mirror, I saw him laughing.

The drive home felt too long. Pulling into my driveway. I turn the ignition off. I just sit there in my car, dreading my workload. Finally, I am gathering the strength to get out of the car and face my work demon. I walk up the walk path to my small two-bedroom apartment. It isn’t much, but it’s ours. Upon entering my home. I glance at my phone for the time. It’s just past 2 p.m. I have to pick Xia up from daycare at 4 pm. I placed my phone and purse down on the nearest armchair. Then I shrugged off my black dress and kicked off my black heels, leaving everything on the living room floor. To pick them back up after I relieved myself. I had to pee badly. So, racing in the nude to the bathroom. I finished using the bathroom and washed my hands when there was a knock at my door.I groaned loudly, grabbing my robe from the bathroom door and exiting the living room. Looking through the peephole. I see it’s my neighbor. He can’t take the hint that I’m not interested in him. I cracked the door open a bit. “Hi Jaah, Is everything ok?” I asked, concerned for him. His eyes were red and glossy. “Yeah, I just need to talk to you.” His words were slurred. He looked like a mess. His dark, messy hair stuck to his olive-toned face. His blue button-down shirt had a few skipped buttons. He reeked of alcohol and sweat. “I’m sorry, but I’m currently working. I’m behind on my work. As you know, I am an assistant to the CFO of Express Corps.” I say, trying to let him down easy. “I understand. Actually, no, I don’t understand.” He says in what I always presumed was a Middle Eastern accent. Angrily pushed my front door open. Knocking me back into a stumble. Surprised by his force and rage. I back up with one hand in front of me and the other around the belt of my robe. “Jaah,” I plead. But his nostrils were flaring, and with his wild eyes, he looked me over. “I’ve been pursuing you like a gentleman is supposed to. Why am I not good enough for you, Nettle?” He raged at me. Taking slow predator steps toward me. “It’s not that, Jaah.” I whimper, stepping back and falling over my mess of clothes from the funeral. I landed with a hard thud on my back. I scramble to get up, but he jumps on top of me. Wrestling around with him. I scratched his face in a catclaw fashion and reached for one of my heels. I managed to jab him in the shoulder with it. Momentarily stunned, he paused his attack on me. I got up to dive for my phone on the armchair. He punched me in the back. Knocking the air out of my lungs and flying my phone farther across the room. Scrambling back to my feet, I run toward the open front door. But he grabs my ankle, causing me to hit my forehead on the entryway table next to the door with a crash. I was seeing stars. Dazing in and out of consciousness. I saw blood on the floor in front of me. I knew it was my blood. He got up and walked over to close the door. I screamed as loud as I could. He was on me in seconds, strangling me. “Your dark chocolate skin and thickness are what I have craved for so long.” He said, drooling from lust.I clawed at his wrists and arms.My heart was racing as I used all my strength. As his grip tightened on my neck, I couldn’t breathe, and my heart rate decreased. I can sense my life slipping away. I passed out. Is this how I die? Naked and violated for the police to find me. Photographs of my naked, beaten body in the crime photos? On the coroner’s table, I had every inch of my body examined for DNA. It’s almost enough to give in to death. But I think of my poor baby girl Xia. She’s only two years old. I’m her only parent. Even in pending death, my heart swells for my only child. If I don’t fight to stay alive for her. She’ll never know how much I love her. In the blackness surrounding me, I call out to Xia. “Xia, Mommy loves you.” Memories of my happiest moments over 27 years flood my surroundings. There was no more darkness for a moment. My last happiest memory was when Xia kissed me goodbye after I dropped her off at daycare this morning, and then the darkness was back. I will not die like this. I can’t. Fighting to gain control of something or anything. I was filled with fear and dread. Death is nothing like I thought it would be. No Angels are coming to guide me to my final destination. The bright light, like moribund people say they saw when they died and returned to life. Death is a lonely experience.

There is nothing. There is no one. I just need God to send me back. “Oh, please send me back,” I begged into the nothingness around me. Oh, Lord, please help me. I cry out while sitting down and let the darkness consume me. It felt futile to walk, run, or scream for help. I didn’t even know what to do—a long while passed until a young black woman approached me out of nowhere. She looked familiar. She was beautiful, standing at about 5 ’2, with blemish-free brown skin, pretty white teeth, waist-length curly hair slicked back into a braid, a little on the chubby side, and dressed in a simple white sweater and plaid skirt with a matching lightweight neck scarf. To finish off the look, her white and brown leather shoes. She held both her hands out for me to take. I did not want to be left alone again. I placed my hands in hers. “Oh, little Nettle Moore. What a shame this happened to you.” She cried out, pulling me into a hug. “Am I- Am I dead? I stutter out. Fear was evident in my voice. She pulled out of the hug and cocked her head to the side. “I can’t answer that right now, honey,” she says sadly, grabbing my hand and pulling me into more darkness.