“You trying to say I can’t sing?” Maple whirled around, placing her hand on her hip.
“Never that.” He licked his lips, releasing Tyler. “I love when you hit those high notes.”
“See you playing.” She tried to move around him, but Tyrell grabbed her by the waist and pulled her body into his. Wrapping her in his arms, he placed kisses on her neck, sending chills down her spine.
“Sing,” Tyrell whispered against her ear.
“Didn’t I tell you what I believe? Did somebody say that a love like that won’t last?” Maple belted, making his heart melt in only a way that she could. “Didn’t I give you, all that I’ve got to give babyyyyy. This is no ordinary love.” And it wasn’t. She was his high school sweetheart, the mother of his firstborn, Maple was supposed to be his wife. In another lifetime, she was his wife.
Tyler leaned against the counter and watched them dance around the kitchen in admiration. She loved this version of them best. They moved around the shoebox kitchen as if they were one. A smile etched across Maple’s face as Tyrell sprinkled kisses along her jawline, urging her to keep singing to him. They were happy, and from the outside looking in, they were perfect, meant to be, and then his phone rang. The singing stopped, the smiles faded, and Tyrell released Maple.
“Give me a second,” he pleaded, peddling out of the kitchen.
“Whatever,” Maple murmured, returning to the stove where her drink rested. Picking it up, she took it to the head while trying not to choke on the ice. Tyler watched her eyes fill with tears, and she wanted to comfort her, but they both knew that whenever Tyrell was with them, it was on borrowed time. There was no need to coddle Maple’s feelings because thiswasn’t the first time, nor would it be the last. It only took Tyrell ten minutes before he re-entered the kitchen, only this time he was fully dressed. No longer did he look like he belonged with them.
“Just leave, Tyrell! Just get the fuck out!” Maple yelled, storming out of the kitchen. Tyrell didn’t run after her. He didn’t have time because his pregnant wife wanted some pickle chips and he had been ‘hugging the block’ long enough, or at least that was the lie he told her.
“Take care of your mommy, Ty,” he pleaded, leaving her to pick up the pieces as always.
Shaking her head, Tyler forced the flashbacks of her past to the back of her mind. She almost wanted to go wait in the car until the pills she had consumed kicked in, but her schedule was tight. Carla was blowing up her phone about the studio, Darryl wanted to meet about her unsigned contract, and Dexter needed her to help him with a song. A song she’d end up writing for him. Tyler wanted to ask him if she needed to rap the shit too, but to keep the peace, she told him to go to her studio session and she’d meet him there. With a hood pulled over her head, Tyler entered the nursing home.
Brooks Adult Nursing Home was one of the most prestigious nursing homes in the Metro Detroit area. Each resident had their own room equipped with a queen-size bed, full bathroom, mini refrigerator, TV, and a vanity set. There was one nurse assigned to every three residents, making sure each person had the care they needed. Brooks had a movie theater, bowling alley, swimming pool, and a three-mile walking trail that went around the building. They offered sewing classes, cooking classes, and water aerobics. There was also a shopping area that gave the residents a sense of responsibility, and they loved it. With all of these amenities, the price tag was high, but worth every cent.
“Welcome back Ms. Davis. Go ahead and get signed in, your mother is in the activity room. She's in a mooooood today, so good luck.” The receptionist smiled warmly.
Great!Tyler thought.She’s in a mood, I’m in a mood, this should be a great fucking visit.
“Thanks!” Tyler gave a plastic smile before walking through the double doors.
Per usual, the facility was sparkling clean with a soft lemon aroma floating through the air. A few residents sat in the hallway, some harassing the staff while others stared off into space. Those were the people that Tyler felt bad for. They seemed lifeless, and she wondered if they ever got visitors or if their families dropped them off and looked the other way. Like an out of sight, out of mind situation. Tyler tried to do it and she couldn’t. When she missed visits with her mother, Maple was still on her mind, and it ruined her day.
“There she is...the girl that sings,” Mr. Rogers, one of the residents, cheesed when he laid eyes on her. “What you singing for me today?”
Mr. Rogers was an Army veteran who fought in the war in Afghanistan. He took pride in his missing leg, swearing he went out like a G. Army service tried to give him a prosthetic, but Rogers declined. He loved it when people asked him about his missing leg. It gave him a reason to go down memory lane, detailing a story he’d told a million times. Let Rogers tell it he put a bullet in several al-Qaeda members before they took his leg.
“What do you wanna hear, Mr. Rogers?” Tyler asked, stopping in front of him.
“Something by the one girl that pours water on her backside,” he grinned. “She does that lil shake thing, reminds meof the Ying Yang twins. You might be too young to knowShake it like a saltshaker.”
“Oop,” Nurse Hawkins snickered from behind the counter. “The girl is young enough to be your great-granddaughter.”
“But she’s not my great-granddaughter.” He shot her a look. “And who talking to you? Go chart something.”
“Be nice.” Tyler patted his shoulder. “And I’m not about to sing anything by Tyla, but I'll sing you some Aretha Franklin,” Tyler suggested.
“Don’t nobody wanna hear that old shit,” Mr. Rogers grumbled, wheeling himself down the hall. “Aye Gracie! Get a bottle of water and come to my room,” he hollered out to another resident.
“Girl, Mr. Rogers is going to be the death of me.” Nurse Hawkins shook her head, watching Gracie wobble behind him on her cane. “You feeling ok?” She zoomed in on Tyler’s glossy eyes.
“I’m fine.” Tyler turned her head, dodging the nurse's probing stare.
“Well, that’s good.” Nurse Hawkins cleared her throat. “Ms. Maple is in there sitting by the window. She might give you the cold shoulder, but you know how to get her to open up. Maybe she’ll eat something for you.”
“She’s not eating?”
“Not since yesterday at lunch.”
“Why didn’t anyone call me?”
