All Chapters of The Weight of Grahams : Chapter 11 - Chapter 16

A chocolate, petite, younger woman brought the bottle over to our table offering to pour. Attracted to her natural features, I couldn’t help but flirt with the gorgeous woman filling our glasses one by one. “So, what’s your name beautiful?” She shyly smiled before filling my glass and eagerly answering, “It’s Torian. You’re Edily Graham, right?” Delighted that she knew who I was I extended my hand to grab and kiss hers, “I am. How’d you know?” “My uncle has been talking about you and your artist Prime Theory there for weeks now. Uncle Craig said you favor one of our regulars and well ya’ artist is true talent. He couldn’t wait to get ya’ll up in here and now I sees why!” Her accent and lack of annunciation were worse than Smitty’s, but it didn’t stop my attraction to her. “Ya’ll want me to get some menus, we gots’ the best craw boil from here to well, anywhere?” The three of us laughed at her humor and agreed to get a couple of menus. Zion leaned in closer to me, “

The ride over to the church seemed long and awkwardly quiet. Having security made me feel uncomfortable about talking about real issues so I kept playing with my phone.  “I’m kind of glad right now for the security. On top of the calls and hanging up, whoever it is, is  starting to send text messages talking about how they’re gonna meet me at the funeral.”  “Whoever it is got me messed up, I’m down here with my daughters and grandson. Security or not your mother is strapped and ready for anything that comes our way today. This ain’t momma out here in these streets today ladies, it’s JoAnne.”  “Wait Mama you brought your gun?”  “I sure the hell did. After killing that bastard, weird things have been happening to me and to Edily. I feel like I have to stay ready for anything.”  “That’s exactly why I called security, so we could fee

I took my sweaty clothes off, mentally reminding myself to burn them in my backyard when I got home. Hot, perplexed, and still very much off-kilter, I turned on the air conditioner and sat to check my phone for notifications worth responding to. I had a couple of missed calls and messages from Holland and Maleek, seeing how I was holding up. Ignoring them, I offered no response, not even via text; there was nothing left in me to be able to relive the details of my day all over again. Perhaps checking my phone was a false hope of having a call from my mother, newly found sibling, or father for some odd reason. I wanted answers, an explanation for my traumatic ass childhood. I felt depleted; my nerves were shot, and my blood pressure had to be sky-high. Skimming through my carry-on for something to help calm my nerves, I ran across an old prescription of Xanax that had been prescribed to me around the time Maleek and I split up. Not caring that the pills were probably expired and purpos