“No.”
“I’m sorry, you’re right. It’s ridiculous for me to expect you to come out this time of night.”
She took me off guard by saying, “I’ll come to you. Give me an hour.”
Always true to her word, Marcella was knocking at my door exactly fifty-six minutes later. I had spent that time straightening up and trying to look more organized than I normally was. This was Marcella’s first time at my place and my mother always taught me that people can tell a lot about a person by the way they live. Being that Marcella was my psychiatrist, I expected her to really inspect and analyze everything about my residence. I rearranged my magazines so that they were in monthly order, my DVDs and CDs so that they were in alphabetical order, and my books as well. It was silly, really, but it helped me pass the time.
Marcella came in wearing a sweatsuit and a pair of sneakers. She looked youthful in the outfit. I was used to seeing her in business suits and heels. I had on a pair of pajamas and a fluffy pair of slippers.
I hugged her with appreciation when she came through the door. “Thanks so much for coming.”
“Don’t mention it, Jonquinette.”
I led her into the living room where I had prepared a plate of cookies and another pot of tea, since I figured we would be up into the wee hours of the morning.
After we were seated on the sofa, Marcella asked me, “So what makes you assume that speaking with your mother will be a confrontation?”
That was an easy question. “Because I know how she is.” I poured us both a cup of tea and put a spoonful of sugar in mine. “I haven’t discussed my mother much but when I said she was self-absorbed, that was an understatement.”
Marcella took her cup from me and put two teaspoons of sugar in hers. “How so?”
“My mother thinks the entire world revolves around her. She doesn’t identify with the fact that everyone else has problems of their own.”
“You mentioned her being bitter about the divorce.” Marcella took a sip of her tea. “Um, this is delicious.”
“Ha, bitter is putting it lightly. When that hooker showed up at Thanksgiving dinner and humiliated her in front of her entire family, she was distraught. She probably thought it was a fate worse than death.”
“Tell me more about your mother’s background.”
“My great-grandparents were murdered when she was a child and I don’t think she ever recovered from their loss. Her parents are retired. They were both janitors and she was ashamed of it.”
“Do you see your grandparents?”
“I try to visit them in Florida at least every two years, but when I go down there, they always seem introverted. It’s like I don’t exist. They never go out with me when I’m there and they don’t even offer to let me stay with them, even though they have the space.”
“So where do you stay?” she asked.
“At a hotel down the street,” I replied. “Plus, Florida brings back a lot of bad memories for me. Being tantalized and browbeaten. I don’t have any fondness for the place, but I do adore my grandparents.”
“Does your mother have a close relationship with her parents?”
“Good question. She talks to them on a regular basis; that much I know for sure. Whether I would classify them as being close, I don’t know.” I picked up a cookie and nibbled on it. “So much has happened this weekend. I’m not sure if I can handle anything else.”
“What happened this weekend?” Marcella asked excitedly.
“You better brace yourself.”
Marcella sat up straighter on the sofa. “Okay, consider me braced.”
“Darnetta showed up here yesterday morning and punched me in the nose.”
“Darnetta? The coworker you mentioned? The one who invited you to the wedding?”
“Yes.” I paused to take another sip of tea. “Apparently, a whole lot happened at the wedding when Jude took over.”
“Such as?”
“Jude seduced Darnetta’s man.” I searched Marcella’s face for a clue as to what she was thinking, but couldn’t read her thoughts.
“She did it with Logan right there during the reception.”
“Let me get this straight. Jude had sex with the man in public?” she inquired.
“Well, in a private room someplace, but basically, yes.”
“So what did you say to Darnetta?”
“I did the rational thing since I knew she wasn’t making it up. I apologized for Jude’s behavior—my behavior.”
“Did she accept your apology?”
“Absolutely not. In fact, I still need to go through the want ads so I can start applying for other jobs in the morning.” I got up and started pacing the floor. My anxiety had kicked back in full throttle, just thinking about going to work. “Darnetta is a drama queen and she’s going to do everything within her power to make me out to be the devil incarnate at the office.”
“That’s unfortunate.”
“That’s also not all,” I uttered.
“What else?” Marcella asked.
“From what I’ve been able to piece together, the way Darnetta found out was by walking in on Mason and Logan arguing about it.”
“Logan told Mason?”
I shook my head. “No, Jude told Mason.”
“Jude?”
“Uh-huh. Mason came over here Friday night to ask me out to a movie and Jude convinced him that I was a whore and to prove it, she threw the incident with Logan up in his face.”
“How did you find that out?”
“Mason told me.” I sat back down beside her, remembering the wonderful night we had spent together. “He’s such a good man.”
“I take it that things went well between the two of you.”
“I told him everything. He actually listened to me and even tried to comfort me afterward.”
“That’s definitely a good thing.”
“Yes, it is.” I began to think about the possibilities between Mason and me and how much I wanted to see what could actually develop. Then I thought about Jude and how she could ruin it all.
“Jude’s getting out of control. Or maybe it’s the exact opposite. Maybe she’s in control.” Marcella was silent. She seemed like she was in deep thought. “She’s really going to take over completely, isn’t she?” I asked.
Marcella said, “Not if I have something to say about it.” She took my right hand and held it tightly. “Jonquinette, I need to speak with Jude.”
“Meaning?”
She touched me on the cheek with her free hand and stared me in the eyes. “Jude, I know you can hear me. Come out. I promise I won’t hurt you.”
I tried to pull myself away from her. “This is crazy, Marcella.”
She refused to let my hand go. “Jonquinette, you’re not the one destroying your life. She is and that’s why she’s the one I need to get across to.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “So you think she’s just going to come out like that? On demand?”
“No, but I do think she’ll come out to prove that she can whenever she wants to.” All of a sudden, Marcella started screaming. “Jude, you said you can run the show, so run it!”
I sat there waiting for something to happen. I pictured it being something straight out of a movie. Time seemed to slow down to a snail’s pace as we both just waited and waited. Nothing happened.
Marcella smirked. “Well, Jonquinette, it looks like you’re the dominant personality after all.”
That bitch had gotten on my last damn nerve. Talking so much shit, as if I couldn’t appear whenever I wanted to. I had just been sitting back, enjoying the fireworks, and trying to see how Jon would handle the drama.
