Becoming Us (COMPLETE)

*Fifty Three*

We spent the rest of our morning with Tre painting and Mama and I watching tv to pass the time. She didn't say it, but I knew she was nervous about what we'd find when she went home.

By the time Carey got back from work, she and I were both a little restless. Thankfully, Tre had already wrapped things up, and he was ready to go. The guys rode together in Carey's jeep, and I rode with Mama.

"It'll be okay." I patted her leg. "He told you he was leaving. Hopefully, he'll be gone. But if he's not, we'll just drive right by and call the police." Even though I'd love for Carey to beat the crap out of him again. Maybe kick him in the knee a couple of times.

I took a deep breath and pushed the negative thoughts away. That wouldn't actually help Mama move on, and that's all we're trying to do today—give her a fresh start.

"I think he'll have left." Mama nodded as though reassuring herself, and the ride was quiet after that.

Twenty minutes later, Mama slowed to a crawl to check out her trailer and the driveway. Her shoulders slumped with relief when we saw no sign of Gary. The gravel crunched under her tires as we pulled up next to her home, and Carey pulled in beside us.

"Alright Mama, let's check things out."

We all got out of the cars and followed her to the stairs. The guys were a step behind us, and Carey pinched my butt, making me jump and squeak. I smacked his hand away, but the soft chuckles coming from my boyfriends made me smile.

That was until Mama shoved her door open and my mood dropped. "Oh, no."

We stepped inside, shoving broken bits of stuff out of the way as we went. It looked like a bomb had gone off—that or a grown man had spent some time throwing a tantrum.

This place may have been small, but Mama had always taken pride in a clean, well put together home. She took a shuddering breath, and I knew without looking that she was holding back tears.

"That son of a bitch." Carey grumbled behind us.

Tre knelt and started picking through the wreckage. "A lot of this is fixable. We can straighten it out."

Mama nodded, but didn't look at any of us as she trudged through the living room toward the hall to survey the rest of her things.

I bent to kiss the top of Tre's head and gave him a hug, grateful that he was always looking to make things better. He wrapped his arms around me. "It's okay, baby. We'll get her fixed up."

We watched Carey dig around the television—the screen of which was now busted—and all the surrounding wires and electronics. Quiet chatter filled the air as a commercial for a burger place played through the speakers.

Carey stood with a sigh. "The stereo works, but she'll need a new tv." He brushed his fingers through his hair and glanced around. "I'm gonna run to the store. She needs new locks on this place."

"Good idea. Let me get my purse." I stepped toward the door to get him some money, but he waved me off.

"Don't worry about it." He shook his head as he scanned the room. "Just start loading what can't be fixed into trash bags, so she doesn't have to keep looking at this. We'll stop by the dump on our way home tonight and get rid of it for her."

"Okay, yeah." I went to the kitchen to get the heavy duty trash bags, glad for a place to start and a task to focus on.

It turned out the living room and bedroom had gotten the worst of it. The kitchen, bathroom, and my old bedroom had been pretty much left alone. So, a little over an hour later, things were already looking a lot better.