I Know I've Been Changed

by ReShonda Tate Billingsley

  “Hey! Can we get a paramedic here!” the cop screamed. “She fainted.”

  I lay on the ground, fighting back tears with all my might, struggling to keep my breathing steady. I refused to open my eyes until we were far away from that place. If I kept them closed long enough, maybe, just maybe, when I opened them, I would realize this was all a dream. A really, really bad dream.

  Chapter 31

  So much for dreaming. The assistant district attorney that stood in front of me was very real.

  It had been less than a week since I’d tried to run over my husband, and as I’d suspected, it had been all over the news.

  After I was released on $60,000 bail, I stayed holed up in my house. I unplugged my phone because it was ringing off the hook from reporters who wanted an “exclusive.” Thankfully, Shereen had stepped in, arranged my leave of absence from work, and called my attorney, Carl Goldberg.

  Now, Carl, a short, balding Jewish man, sat next to me as we met the assistant district attorney. We’d been going around and around with the ADA for over an hour. They had been tossing around phrases like “crime of passion,” “impeccable record,” and “credit to society.” I couldn’t make out what they were talking about. I was numb. I felt transplanted from another time, another place. My life had unraveled before my eyes. Now, here I was sitting in the very courthouse I had covered so many times.

  “We can’t just let her off. What kind of message would that send?” the assistant DA said.

  “Come on, Sid. You know she just got caught up in the moment. She’s pregnant and had just caught her husband cheating. She simply had a nervous breakdown,” Carl said.

  A nervous breakdown? Is that what it was? We had never discussed that. But at that point, I couldn’t care less. I just prayed the ADA wouldn’t take this to court.

  Sid shook his head like he was weighing the issue. “I just don’t know. I can’t do any special treatment.”

  “Come on, Sid; it’s an election year. Women’s groups will be all over this case. She’s big-time and it will become a media circus. Don’t waste the taxpayers’ money. Myles is going to be fine. Slap her with a hefty fine and some community service. Don’t take this case to court,” my attorney pleaded.

  “I’ll think about it. That’s all I can promise.”

  My attorney looked relieved. “That’s all we ask.”

  He looked at me, urging me with his eyes to say something to Sid. I don’t know where I got the energy, but I mustered up the effort. “Thank you very much.”

  Sid looked at me pitifully before standing up and shaking my hand. “Take care of yourself, Mrs. Jacobs. I’ll be in touch with your attorney.”

  I nodded and let Carl lead me out the door and down the back steps of the courthouse. Carl was excellent at what he did. He’d had someone make an anonymous call to all the TV stations that I would be appearing in court tomorrow so we could escape a media circus. Still, I didn’t want to take any chances that my colleagues were lying in wait. The news had been my whole world, but this last week, I had learned to hate it.

  From one meeting to another. Why we had to do this today was beyond me, but here I was sitting in Stan’s, my general manager’s, office. Dina was sitting next to me. She barely looked my way and acted as if she were engrossed in her notes.

  I’d known this meeting was coming. Dina had called me at home the night I was released and told me to take some time to get my head together. She had sounded surprisingly sympathetic. Now, here we were in Stan’s office and she looked anything but sympathetic. Although I knew Stan liked me, he had to take a stand for the record, so I was sure they were about to berate me for making the station look bad.

  I wasn’t in the mood to hear that, but I knew I had to take their tongue-thrashing. I knew that was all it was because the bottom line was my show made money. They wouldn’t fire me. After all, they had sent the weatherman to drug rehab three times.

  Dina began talking. “You know we have been the talk of the town, right?”

  I shrugged. I didn’t mean to belittle my actions, but I just was not in the mood for a lecture from the Queen Bee. My indifference seemed to piss her off.

  “I’m glad you can have such a nonchalant attitude about this,” she hissed.

  I softened. I certainly did not want to make the situation any worse. I leaned toward her. “Dina, I didn’t mean to cast a negative light on you or the station. But I had a little slipup.”

  “A little slipup! You tried to kill one of Houston’s top politicians!” Dina screamed.

  “He is also my husband who is cheating on me.”

  “I don’t care. That doesn’t give you carte blanche to try and kill him!”

  Stan jumped in. “Now, ladies, calm down.”

  I leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms. “I am calm. It’s her who seems to be losing it.”

  Dina huffed, stood up, and stomped over to the window. “I can’t take this, Stan. You brought me in here to take this station to new levels. How am I supposed to do that, dealing with this mess?”

  Stan sighed and the look in his eyes ate at my soul. I had never seen a look like that. Suddenly, my job confidence began to waver. It was time to go to bat and defend my position.

  “Look, Stan, I know I messed up. I was going through some things and I…I just snapped. But my attorney doesn’t think the DA is going to press charges since Myles is going to be fine.” That was the irony of all of this. Myles suffered a broken bone in his arm and a contusion, but the impact had knocked him onto the hood of my car and he’d bounced off without suffering serious injury. Karen had suffered minor injuries and I had no doubt she would be trying to sue me at some point. But I just couldn’t concern myself with that now.

  Stan lowered his eyes and shook his head.

  “Tell her,” Dina hissed.

  “Tell me what?” I looked back and forth between the two of them. The look on Stan’s face told me enough.

  “Oh, my God, no! You’re not letting me go.”

  “I’m sorry,” Stan whispered, “we don’t have a choice.”

  Dina, a proud and defiant look on her face, walked over behind Stan and picked up a thick document. She flipped over several pages. “Page seven of your contract. ‘Employee will be subject to immediate termination in the violation of any of the above listed morals clauses’,” she read. Dina looked up and glared at me. “While attempted murder isn’t specifically listed in the morals clause, I think it’s safe to say that’s considered a moral violation.”

  I offered a pleading look to Stan. “Please, don’t let her do this. She’s just doing it because she hates me. She’s jealous, that’s all. She probably could never get an on-air job and is just jealous because I have.”

  Dina laughed like that was the most absurd thing she’d ever heard. “First of all, sweetheart, I don’t have, nor have I ever had, a desire to be in front of the camera. I have always wanted to be behind the scenes where the power is, the one making the decisions, like who stays and who goes. And you, Rae Rollins, have got to go.”

  I was furious. “You can’t just toss me out! I have a contract. I have a year and a half left on that contract! If you get rid of me, I’ll sue and make sure you not only pay out the remainder of my contract, but I’ll also make sure the entire black community knows how you treated me.”

  Dina laughed again. She was making me even angrier. “Let’s see, you told members of the National Association of Black Journalists you would not join because there was, and I quote, ‘nothing you can do for me’. You aren’t active in the black community, except when it serves your needs. And what else? Oh, yeah, you tried to run over your husband. You think the black community will rally around you? Hah! And lastly”—she began flipping through the contract again—“page eight of your contract reads as follows: ‘Violation of the morals clause nullifies this entire contract. This contract will be void immediately and the employee will not be entitled to any outstanding compensation. Employee also wai
ves the right to litigation involving dismissal based on the morals clause.’ ” Dina snapped the document closed.

  Was I hearing things? They were going to fire me and not give me any money? And why would I have signed anything giving up my right to sue? I kicked myself. I couldn’t believe this. “The Rae Rollins Show is the highest-rated show in this market! I am this station!” I yelled.

  “No, Rae. You were this station. Now you’re simply a mess we have to clean up.” She tossed the contract back on Stan’s desk. “Security is waiting outside to escort you back to the newsroom so you can clear out your desk.”

  With that, she walked out of the office. I was about to plead with Stan when I noticed two of our security guards—I had never even bothered to learn their names—motioning for me to come with them.

  “Stan…,” I pleaded as I slowly stood up.

  “I’m sorry.” Then the man I thought would always be in my corner turned his back to me and began typing on his computer.

  “Don’t do this, please. Can I at least come back tonight and get my things?”

  Stan didn’t turn around. “Security will escort you to your desk right now. You will not be allowed back on the property.”

  I wanted so desperately to break down crying, but my body was numb. After all my years dedicated to this station, after all that I had done to make this station number one, this was how I would go out. Escorted to my desk by security. All eyes would be on me.

  “Come on, Ms. Rollins,” one of the guards said. “You only have fifteen minutes to clear everything out.”

  I contemplated having someone just box up all my belongings, but I had so many personal things and I didn’t want just anyone handling them.

  I inhaled deeply. I had been stripped of my dignity, but I could not let anyone in that newsroom see me cry.

  “Fine.” I glared at Stan one last time, willing him to turn around and look at me. He wouldn’t. I wanted to hurl insults at him, tell him how this station would plummet without me, but I no longer had the energy. “Fine,” I told the security guard again. “Let’s go get my stuff.”

  Chapter 32

  Here I was, sitting in my house, in the dark. I shook my head, trying to get my bearings. How long had I been here? And what was that pounding in my head? I remembered all the stares and whispers as I’d packed up my stuff in my desk. A couple of people tried to talk to me, but security had kept them at bay. It was one of the most humiliating moments of my life.

  After I’d left work, I’d stopped at the liquor store and the pharmacy, where I picked up two bottles of tequila and three boxes of Tylenol PM. While thoughts of suicide never crossed my mind, I did want to do whatever it took to erase the past week from my memory.

  At home, I had downed glass after glass of Jose Cuervo and popped pill after pill. I’d repeated this off and on all week, until I felt numb to all the pain.

  I glanced around my home. Boxes were everywhere. We were supposed to be moving at the end of the month. Closing on our dream home on the thirty-first. Now, I wouldn’t have that dream home and I didn’t have Myles. I didn’t have anyone. I was all alone. I caught my reflection in my china cabinet as I tried to stand. It seemed to bellow at me, “You have no one to blame but yourself.” My world had come to an end. I’d lost my baby, my man, my job, and my dignity.

  I tried to move toward the kitchen. Every ounce of my body ached. It felt like I had tried to kill myself. I sank to the floor in tears.

  I was still sobbing when I heard banging on the front door. Who could that possibly be? Maybe it was Shereen. Besides my attorney, she was the only person I’d talked to. Then again, maybe it was Myles. I shook off that thought. I knew he would not be bold enough to show his face here. I figured that if I ignored whoever it was, they’d go away. I was wrong. The pounding continued. I eased up and made my way back into the living room.

  “Raedella Rollins, open this door or I’m calling the cops and having them bust the door down!”

  Mama Tee! What in the world was she doing here? I had to be imagining things.

  “I’m calling the cops! Shondella, go call the cops,” she bellowed.

  Shondella was with her? They were the last two people I felt like dealing with, but I definitely didn’t need any more cops around.

  “Yeah,” I managed to mutter. “I’m coming.”

  I glanced in the hall mirror and frowned. My eyes were red and puffy. My hair was matted to my head. My lips were cracked and ashen. I sniffed under my arms and nearly doubled over. I hadn’t had a bath in a week. I thought about trying to quickly fix myself up, but I just didn’t have the energy.

  I dragged myself into the living room and opened the door.

  “Holy mother of Mary,” Mama Tee proclaimed. She clutched her chest and her eyes widened.

  “Dang, girl,” Shondella chimed in. “You look like crap.”

  Mama Tee stared at me, a look of horror across her face. Her eyes watered up, which was astonishing because I could count on one hand the number of times I’d seen Mama Tee cry.

  “My baby. My poor, poor baby.” Mama Tee stretched out her arms toward me.

  I felt awkward seeing my grandmother standing there ready to comfort me. It had been so long since anyone had really comforted me, let alone Mama Tee. I contemplated putting on my strong, invincible air, but I didn’t have the strength to pretend. Truth be told, I wanted my grandmother to comfort me. I wanted her to hold me and tell me everything would be all right. I wanted her to help me escape this nightmare that had become my life.

  I slowly stepped toward Mama Tee, and before I knew it, I had flung myself into her arms.

  “Oh, Mama Tee,” I sobbed.

  “Shhhh,” she said, stroking my hair. “Mama Tee’s here. It’s gon’ be all right.”

  I didn’t know how all right things were going to be, but I did know, right now, buried in Mama Tee’s arms was the safest I’d felt in a long time.

  Mama Tee made her way about my massive kitchen like she had been there a hundred times. She was rummaging through the cabinet now, looking for more coffee to brew. I sat at the kitchen table.

  “Mama Tee, I don’t want any more coffee.” My grandmother had been at my house for almost two hours and I’d yet to find out why she’d come. Maybe because I had been so busy bawling since she’d walked through the door. Even Shondella amazed me, sitting in the living room quietly watching television.

  “You need to drink some of this so you can get some pep back in your step.”

  But I didn’t think I’d ever get my pep back.

  Thoughts of my precious baby made me want to sink back into my depression. And images of Myles and the hoochie-ho constantly flashed in my mind. “I just want to die,” I said, as I buried my head in my arms on the kitchen table.

  “Gal, quit being dramatic. You ain’t got no reason to wanna die,” Mama Tee said as she put another pot of coffee on.

  “I have no reason to want to live.”

  “Hush all that nonsense.”

  “You just don’t understand.”

  “I understand a lot better than you think.” Mama Tee pulled out a chair and sat across from me at the table. “Just ’cause you caught your man with another woman ain’t no reason for you to be talking about dying.”

  I gasped, even though it shouldn’t have come as any surprise that Mama Tee knew what had happened. “So word has gotten around, huh?” I asked her.

  “It’s the talk of the town,” Shondella called out from the living room. Surprisingly, her voice didn’t have the condescending tone I would’ve expected.

  Mama Tee nodded. “Sadie Merriweather’s niece lives here in Houston. She called Sadie the day after it happened and told her all about it. She said they had it in the newspapers and on TV. You know Sadie ’bout the biggest gossip in town. She told Mr. Lawrence and God only knows who else. Next thing I know, someone come up to me at usher board meeting and told me about it.”

  Shondella appeared in the kitchen entra
nce. “I read about it in the papers myself. Yep, looks like you messed your life up, little sis. But I told you that would happen. It just took a little longer than I expected.”

  I cut my eyes at her. There was the Shondella I knew and despised.

  “Shondella, go on back in there and mind your business. Ain’t nobody asked you nothing,” Mama Tee snapped.

  Shondella snickered and walked off. “Whatever.”

  I couldn’t bring myself to get upset with her. I was emotionally exhausted. I lowered my head in shame. “I’m sorry I embarrassed you, Mama Tee.”

  “Hush talking that foolishness. It takes a lot more than attempted murder to embarrass Mama Tee.” She leaned in and smiled. “Don’t tell nobody I told you this, but you come by it honestly. You remember that big, long scar your Grandpa Walter had along his arm?”

  Who couldn’t remember that scar? It snaked around his arm. It had keloided up, and when we were little, all the kids used to dare each other to go touch it.

  “Yeah, what about it?”

  Mama Tee looked around the room like we were in the middle of a crowded restaurant. “I did that,” she whispered.

  “Huh?”

  “I sliced him up. Filleted that fool. From his shoulder to his little pinkie. Tried to plunge that knife right into his chest. Caught him with another woman and damn near killed him. Would have, too, but I needed him to take care of them eight chil’ren.” Mama Tee laughed at the memory.

  I was dumbfounded. My grandmother, a crazed woman scorned? It just didn’t fit.

  “It’s not just that, Mama Tee. I lost my job. I was arrested and…” I just couldn’t bring myself to tell her the and part.

  “So? You’ll find another job and you ain’t the first person ever to be arrested.”

  “Mama Tee, you don’t understand. I’m probably blackballed. I’ll never work in the business again.”