Rootworks
Ever since her son’s disappearance the house had been quiet. Weeks passed and there was still no word about him, where he was, whether dead or alive. The usual verbose lady was now as dumb as someone who has never spoken. It was surprising that she of all people hadn’t thrown a fit or made a fuss at the whole situation. Her sister wasn’t half as devastated as her, especially because she resented her so much for causing her similar pain. Had she not lived apart from her daughter for the past three to four years? Not to speak of the broken bond between them which had lasted over a decade on her account. She couldn’t feel sorry for her no matter how hard she tried but at least, she could spare a few encouraging words here and there as and when she’s up to it.
The two of them had lived together for a little over two months unbothered by none of their kids- interestingly all of them would choose to be anywhere other than in this luxurious home with their mothers.
Sally perched on the dining table sipping a glass of tequila and reading a Vogue magazine. It was a guilty pleasure she enjoyed having on most days if she wasn’t bag shopping or watching the news. She had heard it in passing that some masterpieces were going to be auctioned in a few weeks and decided to check out their histories and details from the bulletins.
“Mmm… this vase would look pretty on my patio,” she thought, sipping at her drink.
“A classic too. The last work of a famous ceramist before passing, interesting.”
Bertha climbed down the stairs to the table she sat. Her hair was nearly kempt and combed to the back and she wore a free flowing dress, which was outside of her usual fitting style of clothing. Her face looked pale with grief and she seemed to have too much on her mind to spill out.
“How are you, Bertha?” Sally asked, still sipping at her glass and flipping through the pages.
“Do you really want to know how I am doing?” She looked up at her younger sister with disdain.
“Of course. You’re my only sister,” she shrugged, not sparing her as much as a glance.
“I thought you didn’t drink.” Bertha said.
“Assumptions can be lies, you know.”
Bertha smirked at her remark. Both of them knew they were their least favorite people but they were willing to pretend to themselves.
“So apparently the deaconess, or should I say, the youth counselor or even better, Mother of the years can take a break to drink?”
“Please, Bertha. Don’t we have enough problems to deal with? Are you still interested in what goes on in my life? You must really love me then.” She sighed as she poured herself another glass of hard liquor.
“You just amaze me, Sally. You speak as if you’ve been worried about my son but I can tell you have never been more relieved,” she spat, her voice wavering, the more she thought about him.
“I knew you’d never appreciate anything I do for you. My son has been working through the night, out there and alone, trying to find your son when he should be at court, chasing that law career he abandoned ages ago, yet you sit there and tell me I’m relieved? Must I step out too and parade around looking for someone who doesn’t want to be found? Or should I sit around and mope all day just because someone’s gone missing? I’m embarrassed to even talk about a full grown man going missing not to speak of telling someone else about it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have personal business to attend to,” she placed the magazine down and gulped the last of her drink.
“Must you always be this mortifying?” Bertha sighed in exasperation causing her to stop in her tracks.
“What are you talking about?”
“You know what I mean, Sally…”
She walked back to the table to take a seat. It was about time they had a conversation, she thought.
“It doesn’t feel good, does it?” She huffed, finally calming down after taking a deep breath.
“Now what do you mean?”
“Being separated from a child so dear to your heart. It doesn’t feel good, does it?” Sally looked back at her intensely.
“So is that why you’re acting like this? You see this as a good time to gloat just because this is a karma of some kind ?” Bertha tried to change the course the conversation was going.
“Not really. But it’s interesting you use that word. I’m not that petty to think about undeserved stuff like that but I just can’t seem to understand why you’ve always fought so hard to look better than me. If I disgusted you that much, why did you move into my house? And to think you projected that competition on our own kids. When they were to be playing and having fun together like normal children, they just ended up growing up to become islands of their own.”
“You’ve always thought you were better than me. Mom always thought you were better than me-“ Bertha peeved.
“Oh so that’s what all these are about? That’s why you jumped on that one prime incident over sixteen years ago to blackmail me for all those years? Who cares what I think, Elizabeth Maria Barnes? And who cares what I do with my life? You’ve made me live as a prisoner in my own home over some crime which was entirely my decision to make and not yours? Because of you I married this man who has done nothing but taunt me, all because you managed to cause our father to think he was better than Aren and can take better care of me but than him but what you really cared about was yourself. If you liked Brent that much, why didn’t you just marry him?”
“Or you just wanted me out of your way so you could have Aren? I know all about those stunts you pulled just to get him looking in your direction-“
“Ha… oh don’t be ridiculous. What do I need such a pauper for?” Bertha chuckled in disgust.
“I see. So then why didn’t you take the Brent you adored so much?”
“Because he liked you, what else?” Bertha bawled.
“So… what about me? You knew I was in love with someone else. You knew it yet you slithered your way through just to mess up my life with this man I’m stuck with. Who knows? If you had married him then he’d have had less time to spend in all those women’s beds.” She stifled a laugh at the thought of it.
“It’s like everything I wanted, you wanted that same thing and would stop at nothing to ruin it. The times I let them go, you also walk away from them. So what do you want me to do? And if mother’s opinion mattered that much to you why didn’t you just… open up to her?” She sighed. Bertha wasn’t going to reply to that.
“The only keepsake I got from Aren was that girl you drove out of my life years ago and I’m going to hate you for it forever, Bertha. Using her against me should have been the last thing you would ever think of,” Bertha’s eyes opened in bewilderment. She wondered if her secret had already slipped out.
“She left on her own.” She finally spoke, blinking away and her sister laughed at her discomposure.
“Listen to me good, sis. I know what your son did to my daughter that day. Do you really think I’d ever trust you over my child when it was so clear on her demeanor that she had never known a man? What I did then was the last payment for that blackmail you had held over me for those sixteen years. So, from today, if you know what is good for you, you would pack your bags and everything else you have and leave me alone,” Sally stood up with her hands on the table and looked dead into her eyes. She had never been this serious in a long time.
“You’re driving me out?”
“Like I said, if you know what is good for you because the day I lost my daughter, I lost my mind too and I have been a mad woman since then so I can do anything a mad woman would do,” she retorted and gave a wry smile.
“Fine. You can have your big empty house. I don’t need it anyway,” Bertha yelled at her, stood up and stomped off.
At last, she let out a deep sigh. Pleased to have cleared the weight that had been on her heart for more than sixteen years. It wasn’t long before her phone beeped.
“Hello?”
“M-mother, it’s me, Yvette” she sniffled.
“What is it, Yvette? Why are you crying?”
“It’s Jerry. He’s left me, mom,” she sobbed.
Sally’s relief had endured for just a little while before she received this disturbing news.
“Did he take the kids with him?”
“No. They’re both with me,” she choked a bit.
“Alright. Come home first, then we can talk.”
“Yes please…” the line cut a few seconds later.
Sally slumped hard into the dining chair and rest her head in her palm on the table. She could not help thinking about the drama which unfolded one after the other in her home. Everything which played out looked so much like cycles to her and if she were to trace them back to the roots, where was she going to start from?
Her first daughter, who was her pride and honor had now been met with one of the most traumatizing experiences any woman would ever imagine, let alone, a woman in the church.
****
Things kicked back to normal the next morning after she had spent the long weekend on what was quite an adventure. She looked alive enough to embrace the next season of her life which was going to demand more from her than she bargained for. Majority of her energy was going to be spent on planning a production she did not have the funds for, the time or even the sanity of mind for getting something written down for it. Her slapdash wedding was also underway. She was slowly getting used to the whole idea of getting married especially because this was going to be one of the most unusual marriage events ever planned- no invitations, no wedding guests, just the bride, the groom and a minister. Speak of a Vegas wedding. Jamal was working on the date and the venue for it and he figured the venue should be one that’s special to just the two of them and he could hardly wait making things official between them, seeing how he scurried to her apartment almost every night after work only to return a little after midnight. However, he needed to take care of his house first but he got shocked when his wife made the first move.
She set up a lovely breakfast for him in bed. A tray with a plate of sandwiches, waffles and syrup, sautéed veggies and a cup of coffee, just the way he wanted it. He was flustered as to why she’d go to such lengths when they weren’t in a good place. Was she not reading the room well or she was just bent on fighting a lost battle knowing the implications.
“Today I’m having breakfast in bed?”
“I didn’t want your food getting cold and I know you slept in late from yesterday,” she replied calmly. That was a subtle hint she wanted to drop to let him know she knew all about his night visits to wherever. Before he spoke in his defense, she slid out an envelope from under the tray she had set beside their bed on the drawer and handed it over.
“Tell me what it is first,” he said.
She smiled and took a deep breath.
“It’s a divorcement file,” she cleared her throat and looked away. He was stunned to hear her say that.
“You want a divorce. Is that the reason for this special morning treat?”
“No. That’s just the last meal I’ll ever serve you with,” she added. Her eyes fluttered with hurt as she spoke. It felt like her heart crushed the longer she stood in front of him.
“Are you sure about this?” He looked at her, still shocked at what was happening, as if he hadn’t thought of doing exactly that.
“I already signed and I’m moving out today.”
“And where would you live?”
“I don’t think you have to know about that. I am meeting with my attorney this week. After that, you can tell her anything I should know if there’s anything like that.” She quickly turned and left.
Jamal swallowed hard as he watched her leave without being able to say another word. He wondered if this is how he would have felt if he was the one to initiate the divorce.
Marissa already had her bags and Darren’s packed close to the door and wheeled them all out with her. It was as if she always knew a day like this would come seeing how few her luggage was. She decided to move in with Ms. Morrey until she was able to come up with a good plan for survival. Maybe it was about time she called home.
****
Todd called for their first meeting to discuss the plan for the novel production which got everyone’s head rolling on the floor. They’d never pulled off a showcase like this even at their garage church let alone a place like Purple Place but they had to make it happen, even if it was the last thing they’d ever do in their lives. They sat round a table at Naomi’s diner for this discussion, since Keisha had already resumed work; they thought it’d inconvenience her to come for meetings should they hold them elsewhere.
“So, what is our production going to be about?” Todd scribbled something at the top of his iPad.
“Keisha, any ideas? What are you going to write about?” They both looked at her in expectation.
“The Mirror,” she muttered.
“The same thing?”
“How else would my fans know I’m the plagiarist?”
Todd couldn’t resist letting out a good laugh.
“You really are something. So are you going to make it the same thing?”
“No.”
“What are you calling it then?”
“Mirror Mirror on the wall,” she smirked.
They stared in amazement. Todd noted it and was already feeling the excitement for their premiere showcase.
“I think we’re off on a good start,” he remarked as several ideas began to form in his mind but he had to rein them in since he had delegated the scriptwriting to her. He thought it’d be best to see what she came up with before he added or took out anything, knowing her personality.
“Now, this might be a little too sudden to talk about but that’s because the other factors to be considered aren’t plaguing me as much as this- the venue. Keisha, seriously, the Purple Place? What were you thinking?” Todd asked, the anxiety was already welling up in his voice.
“I don’t know but there should be a way to get it,” she shrugged.
“And what way is that?” Mitch finally addressed her. He had been silent towards her on purpose but certain things couldn’t be helped.
“I can make a few calls…” she stared at their sleuthing eyes peering at her like she was some suspect.
“I’m not going to do anything stupid,” she said before they guessed it but the truth was, they already had.
“So you know they’re stupid alright?” Mitch picked up on her line.
“Not today, Mitch,” Todd cut in before their little meeting turned into a war zone.
Miffed at his aspersions, she picked up her phone and placed a call. The recipient picked up at the third beep.
“Hi…”
“I never thought you’d call me in this lifetime. I had to check the phone twice to be sure who was calling,” Cookie replied on the other end of the phone.
“Whatever. Do you have a minute to talk?”
“I can squeeze you in a bit. What’s the problem?”
Keisha filled her in on the production they intended to have ignoring her excitement on the other end of the phone and asked if she could help with using her skills to secure the venue.
“Keish, what makes you think I can help you get the Purple place of all places?”
“Nothing.” she replied.
“I’m just an influencer, nothing more,” Cookie continued matter-of-factly.
“So influence those you have to influence so we get it.”
“You think it’s that simple?”
“I think it is simpler than denying me to the world,” Keisha harrumphed.
“Ugh. I hate payback times,” Cookie puffed.
“Fine… I’ll see what I can do.”
“Good. You’d also have to think about how we’re going to forward this to the public. We have a planning meeting coming up in a week’s time. I expect to have some feedback by then,” and she hung up before Cookie could cuss. She knew what she would have said. That proud sister of hers who didn’t like to be told what to do would have raved about her displeasure with her ordering her about, but for some interesting reason, Keisha knew she’d deliver on the tasks she’s given her. After all, she owed her that much.
It was as if she was beginning to be grateful for that denial. Todd and Mitch stared at her in suspicion. They wondered who she had just called and dreaded thinking about the possibilities of who and more importantly, how she’s related to them.
“Erm… Keisha, who did you just speak to?”
“Just someone I know,” she said casually, not noticing what they might be thinking until she saw their faces.
“It’s a woman. I don’t do women, if that’s what you’re thinking,” she added. They breathed easier after that. Her phone rang moments later, only for her to see one of the people she dreaded hearing from, Melly.
“Someone’s calling…”
“I know…” she ignored it but she won’t stop calling until she picked up.
“Melly… What is it this time?”
“Another deal, girlfriend.”
“I am not doing it. I have a job now so, you’re on your own.”
“Hey, you can’t quit on me, lady!” And she hung up before Melly could say another word. After that nauseating experience with her last client she knew she was through with that kind of job.
“Your former job?” Todd asked.
“Mmmhm…”
“What was it about?”
“A scammer and an escort,” she looked him in the face unapologetically. Todd smiled back.
“Thank God you have a job now,” he patted her hand gently as if she were a puppy. He could tell that another question might get her ticking off.
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