AUGUST, page 1
August
M. Monique
Copyright 2024 © M. Monique
Published by M. Monique Presents
All rights reserved, Including the right to reproduction in whole or in part in any form. Without limiting the right under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in, or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form by means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to the persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
A Note From The Author
Thank you for taking this journey with me. We have come to the final stop of the Summers Series. It has brought me both joy and sadness to type the final THE END on a family who means so much to me.
Please be advised that this is a love story. It is a story of redemption and healing. This story is about finding yourself even when you don’t want to be found.
There are brief elements of domestic violence and spoken elements of rape. Please be cautious in reading.
I pray that you all will enjoy this story just as much as I do.
Until the next family…
M. Monique
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Epilogue
Prologue
CAGE DOUCETTE
Years prior…
“You have maybe…three breaths left in you. I want you to think about what you did. Then I want you to look me dead in my eyes while you slide yo’ ass to hell.”
The static of my walkie talkie cut into a distant memory. Without provocation I occasionally remembered shit from my former life. That was another nigga, and he had no place in the life I lived today.
Tonight was like any other night in the emergency room. Bullshit lingered from the front to the back door. The smell of antiseptic, the screams of muthafuckas in pain, and the constant beeping of several machines was like listening to a horrible song on repeat. Shit was annoying.
In my second year of residency, I had to stick this shit out, though. One more rotation, and I’d be good to go. Working in the emergency room wasn’t my calling. However, it was one of the necessary hurdles I needed to jump before venturing into the field of my choice, which was orthopedic surgery.
The daunting lifestyle of a doctor wasn’t something to take lightly, and I didn’t. Working long hours was cool for people who didn’t have anyone at home. Myself, on the other hand, I had a beautiful wife and two beautiful daughters at home waiting for me.
Dr. Tatiana Doucette never complained about my long hours. Like myself, she understood that this was just a means to an end. My baby had been beside me since we were fifteen, and that shit wasn’t going to change. I wouldn’t even allow the love of medicine to come between us. So, I chose to work under my own conditions once this residency was over.
“I don’t understand how you can just sit there and eat a whole meal as if you didn’t just see the inside of someone’s intestines a little while ago.”
Grinning at Dr. Simmons, I shrugged. It had been two hours since we received a trauma alert for a male who’d been struck by a vehicle while he was trying to cross the highway. Dude was pretty banged up and narrowly survived. Thanks to a team of doctors who refused to let him die, the patient was in ICU resting comfortably.
“Just another day,” I murmured. Plus, my wife’s homemade mashed potatoes and meatloaf were top tier. I wasn’t missing this shit for anything.
The familiar beep of the intercom paused the fork going to my mouth. As soon as I heard an EMT giving a report for an incoming trauma, I wrapped my plate back up, jumped to my feet, and headed to the sink to wash my hands.
“Black male. Approx. two-hundred-thirty pounds. Lacerations to torso, abdomen, and back. ETA five minutes.”
Five minutes was more like three. As the EMTs rolled the gurney in, everyone went into their respective roles, moving about trauma room one like a well-oiled machine.
“Do we have identification?” I asked as I stood at the front of the room, eyeing the bloodied body of the patient. He was a big guy, with scars all over him like all he did was fight wars. With the amount of tattoos he had, they weren’t even able to conceal some of his wounds. I shook my head in pity for this nigga. Whatever he’d done to deserve this, I hoped he could walk out of the hospital a whole man.
Donning gloves, I moved towards the gurney, ready to rattle off questions. Eyes I hadn’t seen in damn near thirty years ominously, yet blankly stared back at me. Cocking my head as a million emotions ran through me, I struggled to hold my shit together.
It can’t be.
“Patient’s name is Nathaniel Wells. He was inside his cell when several prisoners attacked him. Lacerations are deep. Several different items used.”
The EMTs report was a distant sound as I stared down at Nathaniel Wells.
Chapter One
AUGUST WELLS
The hairs standing up on the back of my neck had me snatching my Air Pods out and standing from my bed. Opening my room door, I listened closely to hear if my grandmother was moving about. Something else had me leaving my room to go check on her. As I entered the living room, I found the sliding glass door leading to the patio open. Apprehensively, I walked toward the door knowing I’d closed it a little while ago.
Just because my heart weirdly thudded in my chest, I couldn’t ignore the urge to go outside and make sure everything was okay. Stepping onto the darkened deck, I cursed recalling that I forgot to turn the light back on. Moving toward the stairs, the sight before me caved my chest in.
“Granny!”
Everything inside me died the minute I laid eyes on the woman who raised me. At the bottom of the deck stairs, she lay crumpled.
On a small wooden bench, I sat on the pier overlooking Pensacola Bay. Today the waters were choppy, signaling the impending storm forecasters said would cause another cold front to push through. Like the weather, my spirit was cloudy, stormy, and subsequently frigid.
“You finally made ya way back.”
One thing I could appreciate about Pastor James was his directness. As he sat on the other end of the short bench, he tipped his fedora to block out the cool breeze coming off the waters.
“I’ve tried everything else,” I mumbled.
Just when I thought I’d climbed the hurdle of depression and guilt, the holidays slid in and reminded me just how low I was. Surrounded by family and love, I should’ve felt free. Instead, I spent the holidays observing how free love made those around me. Where I thought it was best to be single, the honest truth was that I wasn’t capable of being loved by someone outside of my circle.
It was that realization that knocked me back into a pit. Love from a woman wasn’t something I thought I’d ever give a fuck about. Faced with the knowledge that I would spend the rest of my life losing out on the one thing I saw that made my brother a better man brought me a sorrow I hated. I had too much at stake to get buried in this pit, though. Because of my grandmother, I ran back to God.
“There’s nothin’ like the security He offers.” She’d told me that once. Trusting my grandmother’s words, I reached out to Pastor James. Thankfully, he met me with open arms.
“What is it you’re lookin’ for, August?” he asked.
I lifted my shoulders and said, “I’on even know, mane. I just can’t stay where I’m at right now. June needs me.” June was the only reason I was fighting the demon that begged me to take my life.
“Have you asked for forgiveness?”
Glancing at Pastor James, I found him looking out over the water. I wouldn’t speculate if anyone knew what happened that night with Granny. Kingston… and God knew. They were the only ones that mattered.
“Yes, I have.”
“And?”
“And I’m in fuckin’ hell, bruh.”
Pastor James grinned and shook his head. “The minute you asked for forgiveness, you opened a door. That leads me to believe that your heart posture is exactly where it needs to be. No matter how much it can seem like you’re in a bad place, you’re where you need to be in order for change to occur.”
I shook my head, partially in denial.
“Reconstruction of the mind and heart causes som
“Why?”
“‘Cause it means you’re not a lost cause.”
Gulping, I wondered if my granny would think the same thing. As much of a disappointment that I was when she was living, I knew damn well that she hated me in death. If it wasn’t for me, she would still be here, living her best life.
“There’s someone I want you to meet. Her name is Mary, and she lives at Ensley Shores.”
“Ensley Shores?”
Ensley Shores was an apartment complex that catered to the elderly.
Pastor James nodded. “Mary is someone I’ve known for a long time. She was cool with my grandparents—”
“Wait,” I interjected. “I can’t be around someone who reminds me of my granny.” I’d crash the fuck out.
“You can, and you will,” he replied with finality. “You want my help. Listen to what I’m tellin’ you to do.”
Pastor James was right. I’d called him, not the other way around.
“What’s her name again?”
“Mary. Mary Smith. I want you to sit with her a couple days a week.”
“I don’t have the time—”
“Find the time. Trust me—go meet her.”
Ensley Shores was a fairly new apartment complex which catered to senior citizens. The thing that made this apartment complex special was that it had twenty-four-hour nursing care. It could be classified as assisted living. However, the residents could come and go as they pleased as long as their authorized caregivers didn’t mind.
To my left was a seating area and to my right a set of elevators. If I felt like I was going to fall apart, I’d run out of this place and never look back.
“Good morning. My name is—”
“August Wells. Yes, Pastor James told me you’d be coming. I’m Katrina. Nice to meet you.” She shook my hand and said, “Lord, I hope you’re ready.”
Chuckling, I scratched my beard and wondered why the hell she would say that. As if reading my mind, she hunched her shoulders.
“Mary is the size of a flea with an attitude as big as the state of Texas. She’s been with us for two years. On paper, she’s slightly demented. If you ask me, I think she knows a hell of a lot more than she lets on. She’ll be seventy-five in July, and according to her, she wants to ‘live it up’.” I laughed while Katrina shook her head in amusement.
“She’s legally blind and a stroke survivor, which is how she ended up needing assisted living anyway. Otherwise, she’s pretty healthy.”
Katrina and I stepped on the elevator, with her pushing the button for the third floor.
“Whenever you come by, just make sure you sign in and out. Security is here round the clock. Mary’s son is a bit much to deal with, but I’ve managed to keep him under control in the last few months.”
Aw, hell, I wanted to say. If drama came with Mary, I’d have to pass. We made it to the second floor in seconds, then stepped off into the clean carpeted hallway. Many of the doors were decorated with Valentine’s shit, causing my lip to slightly curl. Katrina stopped in front of a door with a simple red wreath adorned in mini hearts that read Books Are My Love Language.
Without even knocking, Katrina tried the knob. When it gave, she pushed the clean white door open. Inside the small but spacious one-bedroom apartment, the mauve color scheme transported me back in time. It felt like I stepped into the house I was raised in. The same house where so many memories and nightmares existed.
“Morning!” a small voice called from the corner of the room.
Mary sat on a sofa gazing out of the large window next to it. Katrina was right. The older woman was as small as a flea. What struck me about her was the long, gray hair spiraling around her shoulders. Her brown skin was light and barely wrinkled. She resembled a woman stuck in time as she could’ve stepped right out of the fifties. She had that classic beauty that transcended time. She turned our way. Her gray eyes were blank, but her face was full of life. She could be related to my granny. I fought the voice inside my head telling me to run the hell out of here.
“Whoever you are, you smell mighty good.” She grinned, revealing a set of deep dimples in her cheeks.
Suddenly nervous, I chuckled. “Good mornin’. My name is August Wells.”
“Oohhh, my favorite time of the year—right before fall. I used to enjoy watching the leaves change. Now I enjoy listening to the different sounds trees make when their leaves fall. The things you take for granted until you’re put in a position to depend on them.”
I had a hard time believing that this lady was the same lady Katrina had just described.
“Mary, August has offered his time to sit with you. Is there anything you need him to do?”
“If I do, I can tell him my own self, can’t I?” Mary’s mood changed at the snap of a whip hearing Katrina’s voice.
“August, your cologne covered up the smell of brimstone.” Mary’s nose turned up.
Katrina rolled her eyes, and her fists found her hips.
“Now, don’t you start with me, Mary.”
“Don’t you start with me,” she shot back. “I was in here mindin’ my business. I swear if I could see, I’d get out of this recliner and beat yo’ ass.”
Stifling a laugh, I saw now what Katrina was talking about.
“Threatening me again?” Katrina shook her head, then snickered.
“It ain’t a threat! I don’t like you, never will. You change my whole mood when you come in here. Now I have to fast and pray to get yo’ evil spirits up outta here.” Mary’s arms flailed as she fussed. This time I couldn’t stifle the laugh that slipped from my lips.
“Young man, how old are you?” Mary asked as I moved closer to her.
“Twenty-five.”
“Twenty-five… Lord knows I couldn’t be that age today.” She shook her head in thought. “Hell, no, ‘cause I’d be poppin’ my coo—"
“Mary!” Katrina chided, bringing the old lady to laughter.
“Get yo’ ugly ass on outta here anyway and take yo’ demons witchu. August will be fine with me.”
Mary couldn’t see but keeping it one-hundred Katrina was a little hard on the eyes. I kept my thoughts to myself, though, and forced myself not to smile.
Sighing heavily, Katrina said, “Stay as long as you like.”
Once she’d left, I moved further into the clean, neatly furnished apartment. It looked like a real home and not something Mary had just been thrown into. Someone took time into making sure the space was well-decorated with paintings, sculptures, and floor vases with artificial flowers. Books were haphazardly stacked on the end tables, as well as on the small dining table on the other side of the room. Several bookshelves housed more books, neatly and alphabetically lined up.
Pictures of Mary’s family were scattered about as well. Inwardly, I wondered how anyone could let a family member be in a place like this instead of letting them be at home. I would’ve never had my granny in no shit like this. No matter how nice it was.
“Come have a seat and tell me about yourself, August.”
Doing as she requested, I moved to take a seat on the sofa across from the recliner she sat in.
“There’s not much to tell.” That was a damn lie. Like I expected her to, Mary wagged her finger and dismissed my vague response.
“A man your age comin’ up in here to sit with an old lady… There’s plenty to you, August Wells.” She leaned back in the recliner and crossed her sock covered feet.
Smirking, I replied, “Maybe there is.”
“Hm. Well, while you think about what you’re willin’ to tell me about yourself, won’t you pick up the book sitting on that table and read it to me.”
I stood and went to the table, yet I wasn’t sure which book she was talking about.
“There are several books here.”
“It’s the book titled When Love Calls His Name by Riley Baxter. Do you see it?”
Picking the book up, I noticed the bookmark peeking out a little over halfway through the book.
“Yes, I see it.” Back seated, I cracked the book open.
“Pick up where my granddaughter left off if you don’t mind—chapter fourteen.”
