The Cartel - Ashley Antoinette Snell [7]
“Come in,” she called out. “It’s open.”
Taryn looked as beautiful as ever standing in front of the full-length mirror in her white-on-white Dolce suit that fit nicely around her slim frame, the skirt stopping directly below her knee and hugging her womanly shape. Her neck was framed with rare black pearls that matched the pearl set that clung to her ears. Her long, layered hair was pulled back into a sophisticated bun. She spared herself of applying makeup because she knew that eventually her tears would ruin it anyway. Her natural beauty was enough to take Ms. America’s crown, and her Dominican features made her look more like a mature model than a mother of three.
“Taryn, it’s time to go,” Polo stated as he stood in her doorway.
She nodded her head and closed her eyes as she said a silent prayer to God. Please give me the strength to get through this for my children. They are all that I have left. Take my husband into grace and take care of him until we meet again. “Okay, let’s go,” she said, trying to hide the shakiness in her voice.
She walked out of the room and down the hallway to her daughter’s room. “Breeze,” she said as she opened the door. “It’s time.”
“I don’t think that I can do this,” Breeze stated, tears running down her cheeks. It was obvious that she had been crying for hours, because her eyes were red and swollen. The distress from her father’s murder was written all over her young face. It was almost as if her legs gave out from underneath her, because she fell onto the bed and put her head in her hands.
Taryn and Polo rushed to her side. Polo knew that Breeze would take her father’s death the hardest. His only daughter, she was his pride and joy, and he had treated her like a princess since the day she was born. Breeze could do no wrong in his eyes, and they had shared a special connection all her life.
“I can’t believe he’s gone,” Breeze stated. She felt as if the life was being squeezed out of her. “I can’t do this, Uncle Po.” She dreaded putting her father to rest. Never in her nineteen years had she felt a pain so great.
Taryn embraced her daughter as they sat side by side, cheek to cheek. “I know that you can’t do this, but we can,” she stated. “There is strength in numbers, and we will get through this as a family.”
Polo was speechless as Taryn’s words moved him. It was then that he realized that Carter was truly a lucky man to have a woman such as her by his side. He left the room and descended the steps. He waited in the foyer with Mecca and Monroe, and when the two women came down the steps, they all walked out of the house together.
The limo ride was silent as each member of the family tried to wrap their minds around the death of their patriarch. He was the one who protected them, fed them, clothed them, loved them, made all of their decisions. He was their educator and best friend, so without him, they all felt lost.
Dear Carter,
I know that you do not know me, but I know you very well. You are my husband’s son. I have thought about you countless times. If you are anything like your father, I can picture your dark chocolate skin, strong jawbone, and wide, soul-searching eyes. I wish that I could have written you under better circumstances, but I am not contacting you to deliver good news. My husband, your father, has left this earth. He was killed, and although you do not know him, I wanted to give you the chance to say your goodbyes. His funeral will be held Saturday June 3, 2008. I hope that you will join us in celebrating his life. Everyone is expected to dress in white attire. He would not want us to mourn his death, but to come together as a family and appreciate his life. I know that is how he would have wanted to go out.
Sincerely,
Taryn Diamond
Carter folded the letter up and put it in the pocket of his Armani suit jacket. He had received