In Her Mind (Mountain High Valley Low )

by Renee Daniel Flagler

  “And after all she put us through, you dare get mad at me for trying to protect us from her idiocy. You are going to blame me? It’s not like I tried to hide it from you. I just went to the court building yesterday after talking to Detective Johnson, who was the one who suggested I take out an order of protection in the first place. I even asked him about Brice and he said the court can stipulate that the two of you meet at the precinct when she wants to drop Brice off to you so she doesn’t have to come to the house. I didn’t expect it to be served so quickly. This woman tried to ruin my life, our life. She wrecked my car, stalked me—practically since the day we got together—and you get an attitude because I finally decided to take action on my own?”

  I sat back thinking of how to respond. All of her points were valid, although I still think she should have said something to me right away. I hoped she wasn’t trying to imply that I wasn’t taking appropriate action. But I did understand where she was coming from.

  “Listen, Lex. I’m not mad, and I realize that we’ve been through a lot because of her. I just feel that you should have told me about this sooner. I didn’t say anything about you trying to hide the information. We spoke several times yesterday on the phone. You never once mentioned any of this to me.”

  “It’s not something you talk about at work, Brian.”

  “Yeah, well what about when you came home last night, Lex? You didn’t mention anything to me then either, did you?”

  “Brian, I worked late yesterday because I knew I wasn’t going back to work after today. And when I came home you were asleep. When I left this morning, you were asleep. Now I’m just coming back home from work. So what do you want me to do?”

  She had me again. The painkillers I was taking always knocked me down for the count. When I’m asleep under the influence of those things, I’m not good for anything.

  “Send me an e-mail, text, something. I shouldn’t have to hear about things like this from Shelly. You are about to be my wife. We can’t have secrets like this.”

  “Oh my goodness! Brian! It wasn’t a secret!” she yelled, getting excited. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you! You know what? I’m not arguing about this anymore. Once again, that woman has managed to stir up more shit in my house. She doesn’t even have to be around in order for us to get into it over her foolishness. I tried to protect us, and this is the thanks I get?” Now Lexie had gotten up from the couch and was pacing and flailing her arms as she spoke. “If this is how it’s going to be, then Brian—”

  “Lex, you don’t need to go there,” I said, standing a bit too fast. My sore legs were unsteady and I flopped back down onto the couch, sending more pain pulsating through my body.

  The almost constant headache that had resulted from my concussion had finally started to fade, becoming just a dull thud in my temples. I was in much better shape than I was in right after the accident last week, but I still experienced some pain and soreness in many areas. I didn’t need the cane anymore, but I still walked with a limp. But now with the arguing and sudden movements, I began to feel just as bad as I felt the day after the accident. In another moment, I would have to pop another one of those potent painkillers. The last thing I needed to do before my wedding was get addicted to painkillers. Sleeping through my wedding would not be a good idea. When I plopped back down onto the couch, Lexie stopped pacing and stood still, poised to come and help me. I waved her off and she returned to her pacing and sighing ritual.

  “Listen,” I started again, wincing through the pain that shot through my temple. “You know why I’m upset. Let’s not make this into a big thing. It’s not about Shelly at all. I wanted to know why I was in the dark. You explained it to me, so fine. Don’t go there about the whole horrible marriage stuff. Put that whole idea to bed and leave it there. You know what it takes to deal with Shelly by now. You also know that no matter what, every now and then, she is going to get on one of our nerves. If it’s about her, then it’s about her, not our marriage. So do me a favor and make this the last time you ask me if this is how it’s going to be when we are married, or if this is what you have to look forward to. I can answer it right now—yes! Our marriage is not going to change Shelly. But we aren’t getting married for her; we are doing this for us, and we only have a few more days to go before we get there. We don’t need to make each other miserable. Shelly is doing a fine job of that all by herself. Sooner or later, she’ll get the picture and things will get better. So, please, cut it with the ‘poor-Lexiecaught-in-the-middle’ talk.”

  Lexie’s mouth fell open and she stared at me in awe. I wasn’t about to retract anything I said because it was the truth. I raised my sore body up off of the couch and limped over to where she stood eyeing me up and down. Looking down on her fine frame, I lifted her chin and kissed her open mouth.

  “I’m going to love you either way!” I challenged and kissed her again. Lexie’s only response was her body telling me she wanted more.

  Chapter 33 Shelly

  “Hi, Mother,” I said quietly as I slowly walked into my parents’ million-dollar brownstone in Park Slope.

  Her only response was the glare that bore holes in my conscience. Once she felt like she had glared enough, she rolled her eyes and made a hissing sound as she turned her back to walk away from me. I remained by the door, feeling like a stranger in my own mother’s house—the very house that I grew up in.

  “Where’s Brice?” I was almost afraid to ask.

  She didn’t respond, and I remained beside the front door. She took a few more steps into the living room, then paused, turned back to me with her arms folded across her chest, and continued to stare. Her mouth was fixed as if she was about to speak, but nothing came out. I began shifting my weight from one foot to the other, then started looking around the room. Still afraid to move farther into the house, I leaned against the door to keep from shifting nervously. I tried several times but couldn’t manage to look her in the eye. I could feel her staring and waiting for eye contact.

  “I am so upset with you, I don’t even know where to begin,” she finally said. The wrath to come was better then her harsh, piercing silence.

  I knew it was coming. I expected it. And she was right. Brice had been left with her for days, and she was certainly not the grandmotherly type. Surely she missed some outings with her fellow half-century rich-housewife club members because she was forced to do babysitting duty.

  “I’m sorry, Mother. I had a few things to work out.”

  “Work what out? All the lies you’ve been telling? Your desperation is embarrassing. Don’t think I don’t realize what’s been happening here. You put your husband, your child, and this family to shame just to chase around some nobody who’s getting married at the end of the week.” Mother put her hands on her head and spun halfway around. “I’m ashamed to call you my daughter.”

  My eyes filled with water, but I didn’t want to cry in front of her. I had to hold out until I got outside again.

  “I’ll just take Brice and leave,” I said, finally stepping fully into the house, uninvited.

  “The hell you will. I don’t trust you with him. You don’t care about him. All you care about is chasing some other woman’s man. Brice doesn’t need to be with you. Leave him here,” she said in disgust.

  The tone in her voice crumbled the barrier holding back my tears and they flowed freely.

  “Oh, now you want to cry. You feel bad, don’t you? Well, how do you think I’ve been feeling for the past few days with your son asking for you and running to the door every time he hears the bell ring, looking for you? And you didn’t even have the decency to call and hear his pitiful little voice. No matter what, I never abandoned you, Shelly. Is this man that important? Is pursuing him more important than your son? He’s not even interested in you. He’s getting married on Saturday, for God’s sake. What else will it take to get through to you?”

  “How do you know he’s not interested in me? You know nothing about Brian,” I challenged
her. My face was wet with tears.

  “I don’t need to know him to know that he doesn’t want to be bothered. How much more damaged do you plan to do before you realize this, Shelly? You ruined the car, your marriage, your job, your father’s and my reputation. When will enough be enough?”

  I stormed though the halls boldly looking for Brice. Getting out of my mother’s house was the only thing on my mind. Brice finally responded to my many calls and stepped his small frame into the living room.

  “Mommy!” he called with all the energy his little body could muster.

  “Hi, sweetie.” I hugged him tightly as guilt shrouded me. I vowed then never to leave him again.

  “Are we going home now?” Brice asked innocently.

  Before I answered, my mother stepped in.

  “No, honey, not yet.”

  I just looked at her with questioning eyes. Confusion etched on my face. “Mom has more stuff to do, and you will stay with Grandma for another few days,” she said, looking at me instead of Brice.

  “Well, you know what, Brice? Mommy can do those things another time. Let’s go,” I said, speaking to Brice but with my eyes fixed on Mother.

  “Brice! Grandma needs to speak with your mother. Honey, go into your room and watch TV so we can talk, okay?” Mother said, and dismissed him with a turn of her back. Immediately, Brice followed her instructions. It was something I’ve seen her do with many people over the years, say what she had to say and dismiss any potential backtalk with a concluding bodily gesture.

  “Brice, Mommy needs to talk to Grandma. I’ll be right there. Then we will go get some ice cream,” I added, challenging Mother’s orders. Brice was my son.

  “Ice cream!” Brice yelled. “Mommy, I want cone,” he said with excitement, then scurried to his room.

  Mother scowled at me for contesting her in front of Brice. I wanted to return the evil gaze but instead walked to the other side of the room where the air was lighter. She always expected to win with her dominance, and though I wasn’t necessarily equipped to go toe-to-toe with her, I wasn’t willing to offer up an easy win. Knowingly, I was out of my league yet up for the challenge. The distance that I created between us when I walked away allowed me to muster up a little bravado, something I couldn’t do standing in her shadow. Her presence loomed over me like a dark cloud as she closed the space between us.

  “I’ve already said it once. You are not taking him home with you until you get your act together. This is not up for discussion,” she demanded and attempted to dismiss any possible response from me.

  “In case you forgot, Brice is my child,” I huffed, then took a deep, long breath. “Mother, I am taking him home tonight. He belongs with me.” I gave her my own dismissing gesture as I turned and walked toward the room.

  Mother raced after me and pulled me by my arm.

  “You will not remove that child from my house. Not tonight.”

  “Watch me.” My voice trembled. I couldn’t believe she was trying to play concerned grandma. “It’s funny how I couldn’t get you to baby sit long enough for me to run an errand, and now you want to keep my child from me? Why are you so concerned now? Huh? What are you getting out of having him here? We both know you don’t do anything without gaining something.” Pushing her buttons fascinated me. Had I known it would feel this good, I would have done it a long time ago.

  Mother’s eyes narrowed into tight slits, but she didn’t respond. It felt like I had finally gotten the best of her or achieved the last word, until a sly smirk spread across her face. Uneasiness washed over me and I felt my confidence wane.

  “How do you feel now? Good? You like telling me about myself, don’t you? Well, that won’t change a thing. You still won’t walk out of here with that child—my grandson—tonight!” she said and dismissed me once again by walking out, undeterred by my unusual curtness.

  Shaken by her once again, I chose to avoid her completely, grab my son, and get out of there before I had a nervous breakdown. I bolted down the hall and hastily began to gather Brice’s belongings. Keeping one eye on the doorway, I haphazardly put on Brice’s shoes, snatched up any of his things that I spotted, and raced for the front door. By the time I was reaching for the handle, Mother was at my side. Before I realized what was happening, she had snatched Brice from under me and was holding me firmly by the arm, daring me with her eyes. I wanted to cry but refused to give her the satisfaction.

  Brice began to cry. The intensity of the situation scared him. My nervousness transferred to him and gave my mother the upper hand simultaneously. Quickly, my courage and composure slipped from my clutches.

  “Mother! Give me my son!” I reached for Brice and she pulled him out of my grasp. Brice began to cry louder, and my own tears fell like heavy drops of rain. “Mother!” I yelled, determined to take ownership of the situation and of what was mine.

  “Shelly, leave him alone!” Mother was getting flustered. Brice continued to wail.

  “No! I will not! He’s my son and I’m not leaving without him! Why are you doing this?!” I found myself screaming. I leapt for Brice, snatching him from my mother’s hold, then raced for the door.

  Shocked by my actions, she came after me and grabbed me from behind. I held Brice closer and kept stepping, trying to pull away from her.

  “Shelly! Stop right now!”

  “No! I’m getting out of here! I’m leaving with my child!” I directed my attention to my traumatized child. “Brice, baby, it’s okay. Don’t cry,” then back to my mother, “Mother, let me go!”

  “No! Put him down, now!” she yelled.

  “Get off of me!” I screamed.

  “What the hell is going on here!” my father’s deep voice bellowed.

  Mother and I had been grappling so fiercely and screaming so loudly, we never heard him walk in.

  “Daddy, she won’t let me go! She doesn’t want me to take my child! Tell her to let me go!” I said, still trying to pull away from the grip she had on the back of my shirt.

  “Sheila, why are you doing this?! The two of you are scaring the baby! Stop this, now!” At my father’s command, Mother loosened her grip on my shirt and I sprinted through the door with Brice clinging to my chest.

  I could hear my mother cursing me as I ran to my car, dropped Brice in the front seat next to me, and drove away panting. I couldn’t believe the scene that had just played out at my parents’ home. My cell phone played a jazz tune, indicating that my father was trying to reach me. Although it was my parents’ home number, I knew my mother wouldn’t dare call me after what had just happened. She’d never be the first to call. That would be an indication that she somehow gave up the upper hand.

  Brice was still wailing and I tried my best to soothe him. Once I was able to calm him down, I strapped him down in the backseat and prayed that we didn’t run into the police. Surely I would be in for a sizable ticket for not having my two-year-old child in his car seat. When I got back into the driver’s seat, I silently broke down once again. Not wanting to stir Brice again, my body quaked as I silently wept. I banged my fist against the steering wheel before trying to shake off my dilapidated emotional state.

  The evil words my mother spoke to me played over and over in my head. Specifically the phrase “your desperation is embarrassing.” Until then, I hadn’t equated my efforts with desperation. I loved Brian and wanted to be a family, and I found that trying to get what I wanted proved harder than I ever imagined. There had to be a way that I could have what I wanted without having everything else fall apart in the process. If I could just get Brian to understand how much I needed him, things would work out better. It was apparent that I hadn’t gotten that across to him.

  I looked at Brice, who was now whimpering himself to sleep in the backseat. I needed to get to Brian one last time, if not for me, then for Brice. At this point there was no turning back. I no longer had Brandon, and I certainly didn’t have my mother to fall back on. Somehow I had to get Brian to see things my way, and
I had very little time in which to do it.

  Chapter 34 Brian

  Sounds of cheer floated through the trendy restaurant as I watched my wife-to-be glide smoothly through the sea of invited guests. My mother definitely outdid herself in planning this wellorganized rehearsal shindig, or dinner, I should say. I watched Lexie work the crowd, smiling and thanking people for coming. The curve of her shoulders radiated under the dim lights. Her warm, pretty smile decorated her face with a graceful presence. She surely knew how to work a crowd. The thought of almost not making it to this moment made me shake my head to rid my mind of the alternate possibilities.

  I was so wrapped up in watching my woman, I almost forgot about the conversation I was having with my boys. Acting as if I had been listening all along, I joined in with the latest laugh.

  “What the hell you laughing at?” Jeff called me out. “You,” I said, still trying to fake it.

  “Man, you haven’t heard a word I said,” Jeff noted and

  laughed.

  “I was listening,” I said unconvincingly.

  “Then what did I say?”

  The gig was up and we all knew it. Cam and Jeff busted out laughing. All I could do was laugh with them. They knew the deal.

  “Damn, man. Nobody’s going to take her. She’s already wearing your ring and she’s going home with you tonight. You don’t have to watch her like a hawk. I’ll admit, she’s looking pretty good tonight, but she’s all yours, man,” Cam said, trying to stick it to me.

  The guys continued to laugh and poke fun at me for being absorbed by Lexie’s essence until Jeff’s cell phone rang and he excused himself. Lexie sashayed past the table where I sat with Cameron, stealing my focus once again. The soft material of her silky sundress gently caressed the curve of her hips with each nimble step. Her gait was fluid and sensual.

  All I could think of was what I wanted to do to her when we got back home. I wanted the party to be over, then remembered that Lexie wanted to wait until our wedding day before we joined bodies in ecstasy again. She said something about building up anticipation and making our wedding night extra special. After processing the fact that I wasn’t going to get none for a couple of days, the rest of what she said went in one ear and out the other. As fine as she looked tonight, the last thing I wanted to hear from her was “wait until Saturday.” Two more days, at this point, seemed like an eternity.