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A bliss that, deep down, I guess I knew wouldn’t last.
More than anything, I want to be sitting in his lap. The weight of his arms around me, his lips on my hair, his voice in my ear telling me he’s going to take care of me.
That everything will be alright.
And I’d believe him.
When I met him, I knew.
I knew he was the puzzle piece I’d been missing. I felt it from the moment I walked through the door of that shitty bar and thought he might be my blind date for that night.
Number twenty-eight.
What if he was? What if everything had been different?
What if.
What if.
It all feels like a lifetime ago and yet like yesterday.
“Jessie.” Heather squeezes my fingers, and I look up and realize I’m crying.
“Yeah.” I look at her with the same forced smile, and she lets out a long breath, bringing her hand to my cheek and wiping away the streams of tears with her thumb.
“I’m so sorry. I wish we could just keep driving. Go to Mexico or Canada or anywhere but here.”
“Yeah, but we can’t. But it’s okay.” I reach up and put a hand on her cheek, nodding. “It’s really okay. I’m not going to do anything stupid. I’m not going to make this worse for everyone. I talked to Barbara this morning. I talked to her last night. I’m on solid footing. She’s going to come see me every week. I can take calls from her every other day. Mitchell set it up. The D.A. agreed. It’s part of my medical treatment. I’ve got my prescriptions. I’ll be okay.” I let my hand fall to the brown duffel bag on the seat next to me and give it a pat.
I do my best to push confidence into my voice. It’s for me as well as for her. I turn my head to glance behind the car and see my mom and Walter following in his Cadillac. Helga, God love her, volunteered to ride with them.
I know she did it for me. She’s the toughest woman I know, and she has no problem putting my mother and Walter in their place. It’s one of the joys I will take away from today. We all met at Heather’s, Helga was there before I arrived with Mom and Walter.
As soon as we got inside the house, my mom started fidgeting, and Walter took a call on his phone. Mom was worried someone would see them at the prison; a patient, or a family member.
Helga turned to her, deadpan and said, “Your daughter is going to prison today. Did you know that or are you here for some other reason? No one here gives a shit about anything else. If you do, maybe you shouldn’t be here.”
Walter looked up, then turned away to step outside and finish his call. My mom looked at everyone, one at a time, thinking one of us would come to her rescue with Helga.
After a few long uncomfortable moments of silence, Helga finished, “Well then. Seems we have all that straightened out.” She ran her hands over her tight braided bun and set her jaw, staring at my mother with narrow eyes and a nod, setting the final nail in that conversation.
The sedan slows and turns into the long drive of the facility. My stomach flips, and I pray for the numbness to return.
Heather holds my hand the entire way inside. Mitchell leads the way. Helga walks on my other side with Mom and Walter trailing behind.
“Don’t worry about them.” Helga flips her head behind me. “They love you. Just maybe no one loved them enough to teach them how you show it. Hurt people hurt other people. Today you be selfish. As selfish as you’ve ever been. That is what you need today. Everything else is shit.” She shakes her head as Mitchell opens the door for us and we step into the stale scented room with orange vinyl chairs and bulletproof glass shielding a small room with uniformed guards and intake personnel busy at their desks and one manning a high counter just behind the plexiglass.
It feels like there is a hand around my throat, keeping any air from moving in and out. My feet move forward without thought, and Mitchell turns to face me.
“No rush.” He looks over his shoulder as the person at the counter eyes us. “You take as much time as you need. You remember everything I told you? Everything that’s going to happen?”
I nod, unable to form words. Mitchell laid out every step of the process for me yesterday when he called to tell me the D.A. accepted the deal. I’m sentenced to no less than thirty-six months in the Dayton County Women’s Correctional Facility.
All the episodes of Orange is the New Black poured through my mind, and there’s no way I’m prepared for this, as much as I try to do the stiff upper lip act.
