Mother. A guttural groan escaped her lips as thoughts of Jewel crashed through her mind. Her mother wouldn’t leave her alone. After Reyna ditched her back at the restaurant, Jewel called her cell phone three times before Reyna turned it off. When she left Jewel’s house, Reyna wanted nothing to do with her or her likeness. Tonight she had discovered the apple didn’t fall far from the tree when it came to mother and daughter. In the midst of trying to do her own thing—live life the way she wanted—she’d repeated the cycle of losing self-worth. She’d become dependent on a man to define her and to make her happy, and in the process she’d transformed into a depressed and lonely drunk.
The one bright light at the end of the tunnel was her job. She wasn’t crazy about it, but at least she had one. There her value was recognized, although envy prevented her from completely receiving Paige’s compliments. She would report bright and early Monday morning. During the seventy-two hours between now and then, she planned to drink until she passed out, and then start all over again at the first sign of consciousness.
The foul odor attacked her the second she stepped into the town house. Peyton. She sat the bag on the kitchen countertop, then decided to throw out the trash before bingeing.
“Pack your stuff, and get out of my house!” she yelled.
“Huh?”
What little patience she had evaporated with his “deer caught in the headlights” response. She stomped over to where he rested on the leather sofa he’d ruined by spilling soda and liquor on it and not bothering to clean it up.
She leaned in his ear and screamed, “Pack your bag, and get your smelly behind out of my house. Now!” She held out her hand. “Give me my key.”
Either Peyton sobered or he realized Reyna had reached a point of no return. He sat up straight and pulled his hair into a ponytail.
“Where am I supposed to go?” he asked with the sincerity of a child. “I don’t have any relatives here.”
Truth or lie, she didn’t know, but more importantly, she didn’t care. “That’s not my problem. Go to a shelter. Check into rehab. Jump off the bridge. I don’t care. I’m through with your lying, cheating, stealing, and stinky behind.”
Peyton threw his hands in the air. “You’re still mad about Laci, aren’t you? Stop trippin’. I told you, we’re just friends.”
Reyna’s neck rolled rhythmically. “Do I look that stupid to you?”
He smirked. “You said it, not me.”
“I’ll give you that one. You are right. I was stupid for falling for you. You’re nothing but a fake. A drugged-out cokehead impersonating a real man.”
Peyton’s cheeks flushed red, and the smirk vanished.
Empowered by hurt and regret, Reyna unleashed a string of expletives so colorful, Peyton’s eyes bucked. “If you had a pot to piss in, you’d have to use my window to throw it out. Since the day I met you, all you’ve done is take from me. If you thought I’d fall for it, you would have sold me to support your habit. You talked about my measly job. At least I have one. All you own are the clothes on your back and an extra pair of dirty drawers. The most valuable things you have are the glass mirror and the pipe you use to do stupid coke with. Now, give me my key and get out!”
“All right. All right.” His hands fell in surrender. “You’re right. I don’t have nothing. I don’t even have enough money to buy a burger from the value menu at McDonald’s, but please don’t put me out tonight. I don’t have anywhere to go. Give me the weekend to find a new hustle.”
Reyna’s head snapped. “Hustle? So you admit being with me was nothing but a hustle to you?”
With shrugged shoulders, he gave an honest answer. “My last mark found religion and checked into rehab, and then you appeared. Actually, I’d planned to work a real nine-to-five for a while, but then you showed up, appearing financially stable, but emotionally needy. It was the perfect combination. I couldn’t resist.” Peyton walked toward her. “If you really want me to go, I will, but give me a few days to make arrangements. I’ll be gone by Monday, Tuesday at the latest.”
Reyna had finally succeeded after months of trying to pry the truth out of Peyton. Only now she wished he would lie. Too much truth in such a short period of time shattered every wall of denial and fantasy she’d created. With every labored breath, she felt bravado and strength seeped from her as the real world and the one she’d created ran a collision course. A slide show of abandonment and neglect was projected in her mind from memory at such a rapid pace, Reyna slammed her eyes shut to slow down the display. The image of David Mills driving away from their home while she sat on the porch, begging him to come back, gave way to the day she saw him in the grocery store with his new, younger and prettier daughter. “Daddy’s little princess,” he’d called the little girl, and he’d barely spoken to Reyna.
Peyton’s mouth continued moving. Reyna assumed he was still pleading his case. With all the images and voices inside her head, she couldn’t be sure. It was too much to handle. With what little pride she had left, Reyna picked up the paper bag containing her happy juice without bothering to get a glass.
“Tuesday. That’s it,” she said, choking back tears, then with wobbly legs retreated to her bedroom.
Hours later, sprawled across her bed, Reyna battled to come out of a drunken coma-like state. Drinking the vodka straight had served its purpose. Old images no longer decorated her mind, but voices could still be heard.
“Reyna,” someone said, shaking her. “Turn over.”
Reyna turned on her back. “What?” she moaned without opening her eyes.
“Good girl,” the voice said.
“Daddy, is that you?” she said, thinking she had sat up and was looking out into the hallway, when in actuality she lay flat on her back with her arms spread wide. She heard a snicker.
“Daddy’s right here,” the voice said.
Soft hands moved up her legs, and hot, stale breath whirled around her face. “No.” Her head jerked violently as she fought to wake up. She recognized that voice. It belonged to Peyton. Those hands didn’t; they were too soft. With the little remaining strength she had, Reyna lurch upward. The room spun too fast. She slammed her eyes shut to allow time for Earth to slow to its normal rate of speed, but not before noticing Peyton lying on her bed beside her and Laci perched at the bottom. Both were naked.
The spinning ceased, and Reyna spewed every curse word she’d ever heard at the two sex-crazed drug addicts. She even made up some new ones.
She kicked Laci in the stomach. “I’m high, but I ain’t that high. Get away from me. You nasty—”
“Calm down,” Peyton yelled.
Reyna jumped from the bed and unleashed another string of colorful words at Peyton, then reached underneath the bed.
Both Peyton and Laci jumped from the bed when Reyna rose up, swinging the poker. She swung the weapon and made a hole in the wall above Peyton’s head.
Laci screamed.
Peyton’s eyes bulged; he wasn’t high anymore, and his libido had vanished. “You crazy—”
“I’ll show you crazy.” Reyna raised the poker, and both Peyton and Laci ran out of the room.
When she reached the living room, Laci was gathering her clothes from the floor, but she abandoned the quest when Reyna waved the poker at her. Laci screamed and ran out of the town house, naked.
“Laci, wait!” Peyton, with his pants at his ankles, hurriedly pick up her clothes and hopped out the door behind her.
Waving the poker in the air and cursing, Reyna ran onto the porch, just in time to see Peyton and Laci climb into a dark minivan and drive off.
Bright golden-orange rays caused her to squint, and for the first time she realized it was early morning. She’d managed to sleep through the night, but the hell and the pit of darkness her life had become lingered.
Her sense of touch returned as her bare feet hit the cold cement. Shivers ran down her arm, reminding her she’d run outside in only a nightshirt. Soft giggles escaped as she lowered th
e poker and went inside. As she leaned against the locked door, she had visions of Peyton and Laci running away in their birthday suits, and her laughter erupted. It was hilarious, yet her laughter transformed into hard sobs as reality once again reared its ugly head. At least Peyton and Laci were able to escape imminent danger. Nothing could deliver her from her torment.
Chapter 26
Monday morning Reyna literally stumbled into the real estate office two hours late, reeking of alcohol and discombobulated.
Her seventy-two-hour sabbatical from the world officially ended when her alarm sounded this morning; however, it took her another hour to get up and crawl from the bed to the bathroom, where she spent thirty minutes slouched over the toilet bowl. By the time she reached the bus stop, the express commuter line service had ended. The trip took twice as long and tested how much mental control she had over her body. Every bump teased her bladder, and her mouth filled with saliva from trying to hold back vomit. The second her feet hit the concrete, the volcano erupted and spilled on her jacket.
“I can’t blame this on cramps,” she said with a laugh and staggered toward the real estate office.
She avoided the stares with dark glasses, but she heard the murmuring. She didn’t care; her main focus was on concocting a lie convincing enough to prevent Paige from firing her. Once at her workstation, she removed her jacket, but she didn’t have a chance to sit down.
“Oh, my God! Reyna, what happened to you?” Paige stood in the entranceway, fanning her nose. “What’s that smell?”
Reyna rolled her eyes. “I can’t smell that bad,” she slurred. “I didn’t have time to shower, but I took a ‘ho’ bath. You know, washed up at the sink,” she added when Paige’s face contorted.
“Reyna, you’re drunk,” Paige declared.
“No, I’m not,” she said in her defense. “I haven’t had a drink in at least three or four hours. I’m perfectly sober.”
“Really?” Paige folded her arms. “Then where are your clothes?”
“What do you mean? I may not dress like you, but . . .” The words evaporated when Reyna examined her attire.
In her hangover state, she’d forgotten to put on her dress. She’d traveled to work in a slip, a jacket, and four-inch heels. She’d also neglected to comb her hair.
Reyna couldn’t think of one lie good enough to justify her actions and appearance, but she needed this job. It was all she had left, the one bright spot in her life.
“Please don’t fire me,” she begged. “I had a rough weekend. This will never happen again, I promise. Please, I need this job.” Unrehearsed tears rolled down her cheeks.
“Put your jacket back on,” Paige ordered in a tone that sent chills down Reyna’s bare arms.
Reyna did as she was told.
“Come with me to my office.”
Reyna followed behind Paige, just slightly more stable than when she’d arrived.
“Sit down.” Paige told her after they entered her office, and closed the door behind them. “Who would you like for me to call to come pick you up?”
“Are you firing me?” Reyna had to know. “Please give me another chance. I don’t have anything left.”
Paige walked around and sat at her desk. “If you force me to answer that question now, it won’t be good for you. What I am going to do is give you the remainder of the week off without pay.”
Reyna gasped; she needed the money. “Please—”
Paige raised an eyebrow. “That’s the best I can do. Now, who would you like for me to call?”
There wasn’t anyone Reyna could think of to call that she hadn’t alienated. She was still on good terms with Kevin but hadn’t spoken to him in months and hadn’t bothered to congratulate him on the birth of his son. Besides, she couldn’t let him know she was an alcoholic after she dogged Marlissa for being one years ago. She didn’t know Mother Scott’s or First Lady Drake’s phone numbers. There was only one person to call.
“My mother, Jewel Mills,” she answered, then buried her face in the palms of her hands and wept.
The lies Reyna concocted to tell Jewel while waiting in Paige’s office were for naught. After Paige escorted her out the back door, Reyna hopped into her mother’s car, prepared to justify her behavior. To her surprise, the only question Jewel asked involved directions to Reyna’s house, which she refused to give.
“Take me home. I mean, to your house.”
Reyna didn’t want to go to her childhood home but couldn’t risk her mother running into Peyton and his addicted friend. She hadn’t seen him since the fiasco two days ago, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t been back. She’d slept with her bedroom door locked. His deadline to move out wasn’t until tomorrow, so there was a good chance he’d be lurking around.
“No problem,” Jewel responded. “You still have some clothes in your old room.”
Reyna thought she saw a slight smile crease Jewel’s face, but too emotionally spent, she brushed it off. If Jewel had grand ideas of a reunion, she was sadly mistaken. She just needed time to sleep off the high, and then she’d be gone.
When Jewel started singing along with the choir on the gospel radio station, Reyna reclined the seat and closed her eyes. The late Walter Hawkins and the southern mass choir were encouraging an old soldier to hold on. The old lyrics mirrored her present life. She was beyond discouraged, and her heart constantly ached, but unlike in the song, she didn’t have anything or anyone to hold on to.
Jewel barely had turned off the ignition when Reyna jumped out of the car and ran to the front door. Then she had to wait for her mother. She’d forgotten she no longer possessed a key.
“After you get cleaned up, I’ll make you some breakfast,” Jewel offered once they were inside.
Reyna shook her head. “Maybe later. I just want to sleep.” She postured for an argument, but Jewel didn’t give her one.
“Okay. Well, you know where everything is.”
Reyna made the trek to her old bedroom with unexpected anticipation. Although she enjoyed the comforts of a king-sized bed on a nightly basis, her old full-size mattress promised her the peaceful rest her body desperately needed.
She stepped inside and exhaled. Her room was exactly as she’d left it six months ago. She threw her jacket on the floor, slipped off the heels, and let the slip pool at her feet. She paused to feel the rough carpet between her toes before trotting off to the shower. The hot beads soothed her tired muscles but failed to wash her problems away. Later, after slipping on a T-shirt and leggings, Reyna drifted off to sleep, humming the beat to the song she’d heard in the car.
Chapter 27
“It’s good to see you back among the living,” Jewel said when Reyna walked into the kitchen the next morning.
“You should have woken me up. I can’t sleep my life away,” Reyna grumbled, although she felt rejuvenated after sleeping twenty hours straight.
“No, baby, you needed the rest.” Jewel set the coffee cup down. “You look good. Let me fix breakfast. I bet you’re starving.”
“I can eat a horse,” Reyna said, chuckling, then poured a glass of apple juice. She observed her mother moving around the kitchen and noticed something was missing. “Where’s Pastor Jennings?” The two usually had coffee together after morning meditation.
Jewel stopped mixing flour and eggs and faced Reyna. “I told her not to come today. You’re my daughter, and it’s time I started taking care of you.”
“It’s a little late for that, don’t you think?” Reyna snickered, although the words touched her. “I can take care of myself.”
“Apparently not,” Jewel smarted back and then smiled. “It’s never too late to change. We’ve all made mistakes, but with God’s help, our mistakes can turn into ministry.”
She watched her mother spray the griddle and flip bacon and wondered if it was all so simple. What ministry could possibly come out of her mistakes? Not that she wanted to jump back on the Jesus train. She’d created her mess, and she’d clean it u
p somehow.
“Today it’s just me and you,” her mother continued with her back to Reyna. “But Tyson will be back this afternoon, after court.”
Reyna choked on the apple juice. “Tyson’s coming here? What do you mean, back?”
Jewel casually patted her back and continued cooking. “He stopped by to check on you last night, along with them pushy prayer warriors from his church. Kevin and Marlissa were here too. We all stood around your bed and prayed over you. I’m surprised all that noise didn’t wake you up.”
“You told them what happened? I’ll never live this down. Thanks a lot, Jewel,” Reyna sneered. “At least now I know why my head felt oily this morning.”
“That’s enough,” Jewel declared, then paused. “Reyna, they love you. I love you. We all only want what’s best for you.”
“Whatever.” Reyna waved away the concern. “How could you let him see me like this? Was his girlfriend with him?”
Jewel flipped the pancakes and poured eggs into a skillet. “I assume you’re talking about Tyson. No. He stayed late into the night and didn’t mention a girlfriend to me.”
Relief washed over her. Tyson had seen her bruised and battered before, but she’d never live down the humiliation if Miss Knockout witnessed her drunken stupor.
“Baby, sit down and eat. Then you can go back to bed if you like.” Jewel placed a plate containing four hot pancakes, four bacon strips, and three scrambled eggs in front of her. “Go on and eat. I already blessed the food, since I knew you wouldn’t,” Jewel said, sitting back down.
Reyna ate in silence, except for an occasional moan of pleasure. Her mother had many faults, but she made the best pancakes. She closed her eyes and licked her lips. “These are so good.”
“I’m glad I can do something you like. Stop by my room for a minute when you’re done.” Jewel’s voice broke, and she left the kitchen.
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