Lisa Djahed - Bee Stanis 01- The Foolish Stepmom

by Lisa Djahed

  “What are you going to do? I mean, with Jesse in jail and all?” “Well, we are having it, I’ll just live with my mom.” Such an easy answer for such a momentous thing.

  I was clearly stunned and still reeling cause I forgot the whole reason I was driving her to the jail, that I was supposed to finding out what happened the day Drew died.

  “Taylor, do you mind if I ask, cause Ben and I are determined to help Jesse as much as we can, you were there that day, what did you see?”

  “Well Jess was pretty out of it that day, he had some drinks” she said slyly trying to test to see if I’d be upset when I didn’t react she continued, “we had some VSOP and finished it all, I didn’t drink that much but he did we were watching cops it was a funny one. The only time I saw Drew that day was when I went in and he was getting a drink from the fridge, and he went into the back computer room and that was all I saw of him, I know his ole lady came over for a bit, but next thing is I go home, my mom picked me up cause Jess was pretty much passed out on the back porch and I was bored and she came and got me and that was it, the next thing is when the cops came and said Drew was dead and was I there that day.”

  “Did Drew seem upset or anything?”

  “No, not anymore than usual, he hates me, you know” she said matter of factly.

  “Why is that, why does he hate you or why did he hate you” “He didn’t want me and Jess together. He blamed me for Jess’ house arrest, like I had anything to do with it, Jess was dealing for quite a while before he got caught.” She said and realized that she probably told me too much information cause she blushed a little.

  “Taylor, what does your mom do? Does she work?” I already knew the answer but wanted to see what she’d say.

  “She works from home a little, doing little things here and there.” As in dealing. Here and there.

  We finally pulled into the jail parking Jot and I let Taylor take the first part of the visit after we signed in. After all, she had some “good” news to share with Jesse. Poor Jesse. Doesn’t have a clue in the world. In jail, baby on the way, one heck of a baby mama. So young. “Did you hear?” was all Jess said to me as soon as I got on the phone. Rather than give Jess and I privacy, Taylor decided to perch her pregnant little self right behind me so she could see the screen, way too close inside my personal space for my comfort.

  “Yes, yes I did Jess, congrats” I tried to sound sincere.

  “Wow I just can’t believe it” and I could see some worry lines appear around his eyes, he was clearly as stunned as I was, but a little nervous but excited too. It’s funny how so many different emotions can live together inside someone and then translate onto a person’s face. Irritation can live next to joy, sadness next to frustration.

  “Jess, what’s going on with your case?” I needed him to be focused since we only had a few moments.

  “They won’t tell me much, you can probably find out more, but

  I’m supposed to have some sort of hearing on the 21st. That’s all I know.” And with that my little shadow got up and went to use the bathroom, I visibly relaxed a little to have my own space back.

  “It is very important that Ben and I know so we can help you, what did they find that killed your dad, what did they tell you about that?”

  “They said that there was Drano in a Gatorade bottle next to his bed, they accused me of putting it in there. They said that his dosage of the sleeping pill was double what it should be, that he either took too many or someone fed him some that it was the combination of the two that killed him, that he died in his sleep but wasn’t able to cry out or help himself. They really laid into me-I didn’t do it, I was drunk Bee, I was drunk,” and with that last admission he started to choke up and I could see tears well up. I felt so bad for him but also suddenly looked around to make sure Taylor wasn’t coming.

  “Jess, it is very important that you talk only to Ben and I and your lawyer about your case, ok? Don’t talk to Taylor or your mom, or anyone, no matter what they ask you, ok? We’re going to try and help you because we believe you didn’t do this, ok?”

  “Alright I guess”

  I didn’t want him to know that both his girlfriend, now baby mama, and his real mama were on our list of the most untrusted list and most likely to have committed this crime.

  “Jess, why hasn’t your mom come, what did she say, she told us she wasn’t on the visitor’s list but I know you put her on, I saw her name on the list”

  “I talked to her yesterday, she said she couldn’t come but that she’d put some money in my commissary, tell her to come, ok, I really need to see her, just to see her, ok”

  It was so sad that he had to ask me to get his own mother to show up, I just wanted to strangle that self-absorbed witch, what woman doesn’t go see her own son in jail. Unless you are too afraid to come? Could that be it?

  Just then the visitation ended, I let Taylor have the last minute alone with Jess while I went outside, it was at times like this I wished I still smoked.

  The ride home was quieter, we both had gotten through the excitement of the “news” and the visit and I was left to ponder what type of person was sitting next to me. She seemed dumb, yes, but determined at the same time. Would I put it past her to poison someone, someone she hated? The truth is, I wasn’t sure. It was possible, meaning it wasn’t impossible. For Jess to have done this, impossible, but Taylor, I dunno, maybe if she wanted Drew out of the way considering her “news” and if she thought she and Jess could live in Drew’s house happily ever after— it was plausible.

  I’d have to discuss this all with Ben. He was on his own “assignment” with the case. Figuring we only had one more day on our own (we picked up the girls at 6 tonight) we were both taking the most advantage of it as we could. He was supposed to be investigating Mr. Ray LaRosa aka Hunk-a-do. He wouldn’t tell me what he was doing though which was mysterious indeed.

  Chapter Eight

  Sitting in the holding cell at Palm Bay Police Headquarters is not where I thought I’d end up this Sunday afternoon. What was it with Sunday afternoon’s anyway, they were starting to be quite eventful around our small corner of the world. But this was serious, charged with a DUI and criminal trespass. How in the world did I end up here?

  My husband, that’s how. And a glass of wine. Ok, it was a big glass, but I had JUST drank it when Ben had called and said I needed to come to the Florane Apartments on Babcock right away.

  I had gotten home before Ben, it was around 4 p.m., the house was quiet. I had only wanted to enjoy a few moments of peace and thought, you know, a glass of wine would be nice, I’ll just sit here and relax and nurse my infertile wounds of the day. Getting blindsided like that by Taylor and her precious pregnancy really stabbed at my heart. It was like that sometimes, sometimes babies and pregnancies and happy mama’s to be didn’t bother at me at all, sometimes it was like a stab right to my solar plexus, right in the middle of my chest. And that was what today was. A great big stab in my belief in justice in the world. I really did see my infertility as an injustice. A grand one. It was like my own little demon I carried around and nursed. Some people feel victimized by their family of origin, some by other people, family or friends, but not me, I tried not carrying resentments against people around, it just didn’t do any good, but on this one front I had a walking talking resentment the size of Texas and it was against the god of my understanding. It was a question that loomed over so much of who I was, why doesn’t god want me to have children of my own? Maybe I was meant to be a rescuer, just take care of other people’s kids, and maybe that was my job given my god. These were my thoughts as I sipped my wine AND it was what got me in trouble. Well that and my husband.

  Turns out Ben’s assignment for the day was following Ray around which had brought him to the Florane Apartments, apparently it is where Ray was living when he wasn’t staying with Bev at Pam’s place on Americana. He called and said, “get right over here.” And so I did.

  He was sitting
in his Civic when I pulled up. “Get in here” he said hastily.

  I jumped in the car and said. “What, what is it”

  “Sshhh, just watch” and he pointed to the second floor diagonal from where we sitting hunched down. Ben even had binoculars in his hand, I couldn’t help but smiling. He was really taking this “investigation” to the max. So funny. My strong determined Russian, I had a hard time not reaching over and kissing him.

  As I was lost in my reverie looking at my beautiful husband, Ray came out of his apartment carrying a load of laundry.

  “Wait, wait, get ready” is what Ben said. I had no idea what he was talking about.

  “Let’s go” and he opened the door and motioned me to follow him.

  “Where are we going” I half whispered trying to keep my heeled flip flops from flopping too loudly on the ground.

  “We only have a short time” Ben whispered angrily back at me, motioning me to be quicker. See, it was my arches. I couldn’t wear flats. Everything I owned, every pair of shoes had to have some sort of heel. I had high arches, like mad high. If I wore flats, like normal people in Florida do, the standard flip flop, I flopped and my arches would ache

  for days, I’d wake up in the middle ofthe night with such severe cramps. So thus, the little flip flops with heels were my only option and the single reason I never moved quickly.

  We reached the second floor and Ben slipped me and him into Ray’s apartment. I couldn’t believe the balls of him. Were we really doing this, what were we looking for? Why were we here?

  “Look in the bathroom, I’m taking the bedroom” he said like an old pro.

  “For what?” I had no idea what we were looking for. Drano?

  Everyone had Drano.

  “Just look, and quick.”

  I did what I was told, found the bathroom and stood in the doorway not knowing what to look for. I saw hair products. I opened the cabinet, self-tanning spray, way to go Ray. A razor, some blades, some band-aids. Nothing, nada. Not even a container of Drano labeled “Give to Drew”.

  “Bingo, let’s go” said my husband holding something in his hand. We both rushed out the door but of course my own little torture devices, my shoes tripped me up. I slipped out of my shoes standing on the landing and proceeded to run down the stairs. I couldn’t even see Ben, he had gone around the corner so fast. Not knowing where he was, I jumped into my car and started it and started pulling out.

  And that’s when my day ended. Fwwooop, fwooop, fwoop went the lights behind me. A cop car was pulling me over. Unbelievable. I didn’t even have my shoes on.

  “Mam, can I see your license and registration and proof of insurance” said the cop at my window with his clipboard in hand.

  “Yes sir, yes sir, yes sir.” I said as I started digging through the glove compartment and my wallet to get the appropriate items.

  “Here’s my license and registration, I just can’t find my insurance, it is here, here’s last year’s card, it is gotta be here, it’s the same policy number” I was so jittery.

  “Mam, I pulled you over because it was suspicious. Why were you running out of that apartment?”

  “I just got a call from my friend that she was in trouble and I was just visiting a friend and had to run.” Such pure bullshit.

  “Mam, have you been drinking today?” damn those jittery hands.

  “I had one glass of wine earlier” except it wasn’t earlier it was just 15 minutes ago.

  “Stay right here” he said as he went back to his car and left me to my own devices. At that moment my stomach was doing such flips it was impossible to keep up. If he wanted to give me a breathalyzer he’d have to do it quick cause I was about to throw up all over the car.

  Just then I saw Ben around the corner of the building he was ushering to me to tell him what was going on, and I was ushering him to stay hidden. Lordy-loo, that’s just what we needed, to both end up in jail and have Countess Von Stinker find that out when we didn’t make it to the pick up. lordy loo on a stick squared.

  And that is pretty much how I ended up in a holding cell barefoot. I refused the breathalyzer (I had had a lawyer for an ex boyfriend once who swore that you never take one, so I was following his advice) but which meant automatically losing my license, a charge of DUI and criminal trespass which I thought was a bit of a bogus charge seeing how Ray didn’t show up while I was being arrested. They couldn’t prove I didn’t know him, not yet anyway.

  The holding cell was cold. Like to the bone cold. There was one metal bench, a toilet and a sink but there was only a half barrier to the toilet so if you had to go, everyone could see. How embarrassing, I thought, grateful for not having to pee right at that moment.

  Soon I was transferred to the van. It was a small uncomfortable thing with gates and mesh and all sorts of barriers between the female inmates and the males and the cop drivers. They handcuffed me, ME!

  Luckily I have small wrists and they didn’t put them on tight so I could slip in and out of them pretty easily, which made the uncomfortable ride just a bit more comfy. Soon we were doing the tour, stopping at all the police stations in the area one by one to ‘pick’ up their drunks and thieves and criminals, of which I was now one. An older lady, clearly still drunk got in at the first stop, a party girl got in at the second with her mascara running and sniffing a lot and at the third my very first bonafide prostitute was soon sitting right next to me. I tried to keep an open mind on this whole experience, after all, it is what Jesse has been through and it does happen and the world won’t end cause I spend one night in lock up. At least I hoped it wouldn’t.

  My thoughts turned to Ben, what must he be thinking. Would he be mad? Should I be mad at him? I really just didn’t care, I just wanted to be near him, to be home. It was amazing to me to be robbed of my personal space and freedom and gave me a healthy dose of respect for cops and judicial system. I would never, never, never, get into trouble again. I wouldn’t jaywalk, I wouldn’t ever drive even after a sip of wine, I wouldn’t speed. Nothing. I’d be the perfect little citizen, just please let me out is alls could think.

  After we made the rounds I noticed we were traveling on 95 north. Stark’s. Of course, they were going to process us and book us at Stark’s, where Jesse was being held. Imagine that, both Jesse and I locked up for something we nearly didn’t do. Sort of did. A little. I could imagine what he was feeling, just a fraction of it, I’m sure but it gave me more feeling for what he must be going through. I couldn’t imagine being his age and being in such a place, stuck with such people.

  We were processed and soon in another holding cell where we waited all night. At the first light of morning my name was called and I thought, well. this is it, I’m going to be charged and sent to the big house. But to my surprise they were “un-processing” me. Letting me free? How could that be?

  Turns out my wonderful husband was there, had posted bond and they released me before my arraignment. Bless his head.

  The only thing we did when we saw each other at long last was hug. Just stayed on that ramp leading up to Stark’s main entrance and hugged.

  “Oh honey, I’m so sorry” “No baby, I’m so sorry” “No honey, I’m sorry”

  “Ok baby, me too, me too”

  And then we walked to the car and I felt so relieved to be leaving that awful place and that awful night behind me.

  “Did you pick up the girls, are they ok? Do they know?”

  “Of course I didn’t tell them, I said you were at your mom’s” “Oh thank god, I’m so embarrassed honey.”

  “No, it was all my fault, I should have never had you go with me.”

  “It was just my stupid shoes, I couldn’t keep up.”

  And with that we just held hands and he drove and the stress of

  the full night was starting to weigh in on me. It was only 7:45 in the morning and in another hour and a half I was supposed to be at work.

  “I have to go in baby, I have a presentation.” I thought about t
he Kinnear account and how they expected to see draft layouts of their new season’s line up. I had to go in, at least for that, and then leave.

  “Oh no”

  “Hey, why did we go in Ray’s house in the first place, what were you looking for?”

  “Oh honey, I found it. I found it.” “Found what?”

  “In Ray’s bedroom, on the second dresser, a prescription bottle for sleeping pills, just like the ones that killed Drew, or helped kill him.”

  “Oh honey, that doesn’t prove it, does it, I mean, how many people take sleeping pills”

  “Yeah, but this one, this bottle, it was empty.” Empty indeed.

  Chapter Nine

  Parent-teacher conference night. Of course it had to be Monday night. The night after I had spent the night in JAIL and had gotten only a miserable hour and half nap that afternoon. The problem with Parent Teacher conference night was of course, being the non-parent parent. Being a step-parent is an odd thing. You are involved in the kids life, up to a certain degree, for their daily needs (if you are custodial like us) but you had no rights to the child. In the eyes of the law and in this case, the eyes of the school district, I was a nonbeing. No rights. No right to say anything, to question curriculum, barely even a name. Ben had to even fight to get me listed on the contact sheet for the school. Ridiculous. And yet, there I am, the one helping with homework, doing those stupid science projects, rushing to Walmart for the right binder and tabs and pencils and paper. Me. The nonbeing.

  Plus there was the possibility, even remote as it might be, that Countess Von Stinker would show and bluster her way in asking about how her “babies” were doing and soaking up the praise about Yaz and nodding in agreement when Jules’ teachers talked about her indifference. She gets to be the mom in the spotlight and dang if she wasn’t going to take her bow.

  I had spent extra time at the mirror trying to hide my baggy eyes and drooping skin. I had worn a power suit just to highlight the difference between hippy mama and me (in case she showed).