by Lynn Emery
“I can’t believe her,” Talia burst out. “That cute little face under snow-white hair hides a sneak.”
“Ernestine is an equal opportunity gossip.” Mama Rose laughed. “Now tell me about this love affair.”
“Mama!”
“Oh please, Talia. Don’t look so shocked. I know where babies come from, you know.” She threw back her head and laughed harder when Talia squirmed.
“We were talking about you,” Talia mumbled.
Mama Rose’s laughter trailed off, and she dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. She took a deep breath.
“It’s not a crime to be happy. You were always too intense. I’m glad you let loose.”
“I’m not planning on anything permanent. No picket fence, no dog, no SUV, and definitely no kids.” Talia twisted a corner of her blue tunic blouse.
“Why not?” Mama Rose put her head to one side and studied her.
“Because for one thing I don’t believe in fairy-tale domestic life. Second, I’m not mommy material.” Talia brushed back her hair. “I like working hard and being free to travel.”
“I see.”
“Derrick knows how I feel. In fact, he feels the same way,” Talia said. She heard the defensive note in her own voice.
“Does he?” Mama Rose pursed her lips.
“Don’t give me the look,” Talia snapped.
“What look?”
“You know what look.” Talia lifted her nose in the air. “You happen to be wrong. I’m not running from the truth.”
“I didn’t say—”
“You didn’t have to,” Talia broke in.
“Oh, the look said it all?” Mama Rose wore the shadow of a wise smile.
“Okay, we care about each other. A lot,” Talia added, when Mama Rose didn’t respond. “But we’ve got an understanding.”
“An understanding. I see.”
“Yes. I’m going back to D.C.” Talia avoided her gaze. “We can still see each other. Derrick travels there on business.”
“A few times a year will be enough?” Mama Rose lifted a shoulder. “Hmmm.”
“I’ve got my career to consider. Besides, I can’t live in Rougon.” Talia jumped up and went to the window.
“I don’t see why you’d have to live in Rougon. Louisiana is a big state.”
Talia fingered the lacy curtain that framed the window. She stared at the manicured lawn of the courtyard. Patio tables with wide umbrellas were scattered around the grass. More were on a covered paved terrace. Residents sat outside enjoying the day. The peaceful scene reminded her of what she wanted. Her life in Washington was hectic, but orderly. The only drama she had to deal with was on the Hill. That’s the way she liked it. Talia wanted a simple, even dull, personal life. Dull was a welcome change from her childhood. Even her breakup with Jarrod had lacked drama. He’d simply accepted the distance between them and backed away.
“Derrick lives this crazy cops and robbers thing working for the DA. I don’t know why he wants to get involved in all the mess people make of their lives,” she said.
“His career is truth and justice,” Mama Rose said, her voice firm. “And just as important to him as yours is to you.”
“I know. I shouldn’t criticize his choice. He’s trying to do what he thinks is right.”
“Derrick is a good man. He’s done a lot for our young people. He works with a youth program to keep kids out of gangs.”
Talia crossed her arms. She no longer saw the blue skies or sunshine. “The bottom line is there won’t be a storybook ending. But then there never is.”
“You’re not Monette, Talia. Just because she made mistakes as a mother doesn’t mean you will,” Mama Rose said.
“So did her mother. Her sisters haven’t been nominated for parenting awards either. Anyway, let’s drop it.” She came back and sat down again.
“Baby, I hate to see you pushing away happiness. Even Monette would tell you the same thing. You haven’t repeated her life, not at all. She wants the best for you.”
“I’m glad she’s reformed.” Talia crossed her legs. “Instant Mother of the Year. Just add hot water and stir.”
“Stop it. She is still your mother. You have unfinished business, young lady.” Mama Rose’s tone deepened.
“No, I don’t.” Talia returned her gaze. “I don’t hate Monette, Mama Rose, but I don’t want her in my life again.”
“Coming to terms with your mother means you need to talk to her.” Mama Rose raised a hand to forestall Talia’s protest. “Listen to me. I’ve lived a few more years than you, so I do know a little something.”
“Yes, but—”
“I said listen,” Mama Rose cut in sternly. When Talia clamped her mouth shut, she continued. “I know she’s done a lot of terrible things, but you have to forgive her. You can’t move on emotionally until you do.”
“Monette is the queen of getting people to let her off the hook,” Talia said sharply. “She’s got all of you feeling sorry for her.”
“Forgiving her doesn’t mean you forget what she’s done. It’s not a magic formula that will make the pain she caused go away. Sure, let Monette know she’s accountable for the life she led. I’m not even saying you have to keeping seeing her if you don’t want to.” Mama Rose watched Talia closely as silence stretched between them.
“I wouldn’t know what to say if I went to see her.” Talia pulled on a tassel at the end of the small throw pillow.
“What is it you’re scared of, Talia?”
“I’m not scared.” Talia shook her head hard. “I just don’t want one more dramatic scene.”
“You don’t want to be let down one more time,” Mama Rose said quietly. “She’s hurt you too many times before.”
“Lies. I’m so sick of her lying to me that everything will be alright,” Talia blurted out. “Well, everything didn’t turn out right. In fact, life always got worse.”
Talia thought back to her tenth birthday, the turning point, when she started to realize Monette wouldn’t change. She’d waited for hours in the visiting room at the bleak child welfare agency office. Dressed in her best dress, she’d looked forward to seeing Monette for weeks. They were supposed to have their own party at the local McDonald’s. Her then foster mother, a stern woman named Hattie Gray, had worn an “I told you so” expression. Talia hadn’t cared about presents or even ice cream and cake. She’d needed to see her mother. The ride back to Miss Hattie’s house had been agonizing.
“You’re not a little girl now. She’s not in control of your life. You can walk away, go back to D.C.” Mama Rose leaned forward. “The difference is you can feel good that you forgave her. Even if she hasn’t changed, you have.”
“No, I haven’t!” Talia said. Her throat felt tight with emotion. “Deep down I’m still the little girl that wants her mama to be there for her.”
“The woman in you will have to accept Monette for who she is.” Mama Rose sat back again. “Lord knows I have. You know what a hard case I can be.”
“Yes indeed, Mrs. Travis.” Talia wore a half smile.
“I got to know a lot about Monette from her letters.” Mama Rose cleared her throat. “And the times I visited her at the prison.”
“What did you just say?”
“That’s right, I went to the prison.”
“I’m stunned, speechless.” Talia blinked at her in surprised. “You never criticized her in front of me, but I know how you felt about the drugs and the men.”
“If I’m going to spout off about Christian love, then I need to practice what I preach. Monette had a hard life.”
“I know, but that’s not an excuse.” Talia frowned.
“She doesn’t use it as one. Did you know she was raped when she was seven years old?”
Talia’s stomach tightened and she felt ill. “Did Monette tell you that? She’s been known to play people.”
“Her oldest sister told me. Monette only made some vague reference to being mistreated as a kid.” Mama
Rose sighed. “I suspected as much. I had a lot of training in that area as a foster parent. She had all the signs. The stealing, wild behavior with men, and using drugs.”
“All the more reason she should have protected us,” Talia argued. Still she felt a sharp stab of sympathy for the seven-year-old Monette.
“Like I said, she has to own up to her mistakes. Still, there’s a lot you need to know about her,” Mama Rose said. “Her life didn’t just begin when you were born.”
“You’re saying I should get to know her past to deal with my own.” Talia glanced at Mama Rose.
“I think knowing more about your mother will help you understand.” Mama Rose stood.
“Maybe so,” Talia said. She stared ahead at the wall, but her thoughts were miles away, at the women’s prison.
“I’ll make us some lemonade to go with those cheese curls I baked. Then we can look at the movie.” She patted Talia’s shoulder as she walked past her to the small kitchen.
Talia grabbed her hand. “You’re one special lady, Mama. Now about you coming to live with me…” She looked up at her.
“Forget that,” Mama Rose said promptly. “I’m a warm weather creature. It snows where you live. Besides, I’ve got my land. Of course you could stay here in my house.”
“If you really need me to stay with you, I will.” Talia held on to her hand.
“I’ve been thinking I don’t need that big house. But it’s perfect for a growing family.” Mama Rose’s dark eyes twinkled.
“You cut that out!” Talia let go of her hand.
“I’m just saying—” Mama Rose wore an innocent expression.
“Yeah, yeah. Go get the lemonade.” Talia got up and turned on the television. She put a tape in the VCR. “I’m not even going there again with you.”
“What is wrong with Rougon? I know it’s a little town, but you’re near Baton Rouge. You could do consulting with all kinds of companies.”
Talia stood very still, with her back to Mama Rose. “I can’t live with the memories here,” she said.
“Derrick could smooth all those bad memories away. He’d move the world to make you happy.” Mama Rose came back into the living room. “And I’ll tell you something else—”
She spun around, wearing a forced smile that made her cheeks ache. “Mama, you’ve given me enough to think about with Monette. Harass me about my love life later, okay?”
Mama Rose opened her mouth, then closed it for a few seconds before she spoke. “You’re right, baby. I’m throwing out my opinions like cheap Mardi Gras beads at a parade. You’ve got enough on your hands for now. I’m making things worse.”
“You’re just making me feel loved. Like you’ve done for the last twenty years.” Talia crossed to Mama Rose and pecked her cheek. “You’re precious.”
Mama Rose blushed with pleasure. “Fresh-squeezed lemonade and cheese curls coming up. I can’t wait to see that suspense movie.”
“Me too. Just like old times, huh?” Talia felt a flood of warmth at the memory of feeling safe and nurtured as a wounded little girl.
“Just like old times, baby.” Mama Rose hummed a tune as she walked to the kitchen.
Unfinished business, Mama Rose had said. Her foster mother had no idea what she was asking Talia to dredge up. Still, Monette at least owed her some answers. Maybe it was time she faced her fears and her mother. Talia stared at the telephone. She had the phone number to the prison memorized even though she’d never used it.
“Get to know the real Monette,” Talia whispered.
Layers of smoky dark blue, orange, and pink made the horizon look like a beautiful oil painting. Talia and Derrick were on the porch of his small house on False River. They sat on a cypress swing suspended from the ceiling. Neither had spoken for a long time, content to hear only the soft creaking as the swing moved back and forth. A few boats passed by with their motors buzzing like distant giant insects. The evening air smelled of wet earth, a slight scent of fish and grass. An aroma of spices floated from the open door.
“Your specialty smells wonderful.” Talia snuggled into the crook of his arm.
Derrick rubbed his cheek against the top of her head. “I hope the taste lives up to the buildup.”
“I haven’t had homemade jambalaya in a long time.” Talia looked up at him with trusting eyes. “Thanks, babe.”
“Wait until you taste it,” Derrick teased.
“I meant for making me feel safe here. You even kept me from stressing over Monette. I know what’s going on with you, mister.”
He tensed. “I don’t understand.”
“You don’t mention my mother or the past. I can concentrate on Mama Rose. And us.” Talia kissed his chin.
His conscience pricked at him for several minutes before he spoke. He’d put off talking to her about the parole hearing far too long.
“I’m going to spoil the hero image.”
Talia laughed. “I don’t see how.”
“You will in a few seconds.” Derrick gazed at her when she moved away from him.
Talia wore a serious expression. “So tell me what’s up.”
“The parole board meets in about a month. Monette will be one of the cases they consider.” Derrick rubbed his face hard. “Our office is involved.”
Talia moved farther away. “You’re going to help them present evidence that she should stay in prison?”
“Let me explain first,” Derrick said quickly. “We—”
“Don’t worry,” she cut in. “I think Monette got what she deserved.”
Chapter 8
“You can’t mean what you just said.” Derrick stared at her in dismay.
“Exactly when do they meet?” Talia said.
“October 21, four weeks to the day.”
“I see.” Talia took both his hands in hers. “I’ll be gone by then. But I’m not running from you. We can still be together. There are so many opportunities for you in D.C.”
“One thing at a time, baby girl. First your mother,” Derrick said.
“I’ve heard more than enough about the power of forgiveness. Don’t bother.” Talia stood and walked to the edge of the porch.
“You’re running away from Monette. Baby, it’s time to stop running—period.”
“I’ve never told anybody just how bad things were at times,” Talia said in a hushed voice.
Derrick went to Talia and put his arms around her waist. They both watched a bass boat chug along, leaving a wake of white waves behind. Neither spoke for a time.
“You didn’t have to tell me. I was there. I saw,” he said finally.
Talia rested against his chest. “That law professor Jim Rand is going to put on an aggressive defense.”
Derrick tightened his embrace. “Winn Barron is planning to get involved, Talia.”
“Why is the attorney general interested?”
“He was the DA who got the conviction. Monette and three others went on trial at the same time.”
She turned to face him without leaving the circle of his arms. “So you’ve got access to her file.”
He nodded slowly. “Yes.”
“You’ve read it?”
“I just started reviewing the first sections. It’s pretty extensive. I didn’t realize the investigation had gone on for over seven months before her arrest. Monette was hanging with rough characters. Andre Louis and Demetrius Nance were pretty big dealers back then. They were partying, taking trips to Florida, and the Caribbean. No doubt making drug connections.”
“I don’t want to know,” Talia said quickly.
“Talia, I really think you should at least listen to—”
“No.” She shook her head until her soft long hair bounced.
“Monette could be innocent. She was arm candy for the dealers, and they probably provided her with cocaine, but I just don’t see any evidence she was smuggling drugs or even helping them. What if she’s been in prison all these years for a crime she didn’t commit?”
“She was on drugs at the time. Everyone knew it. The other guys they caught were her buddies.” Talia frowned. “I remember one of them hanging around the house.”
“Okay, she was on drugs. But she wasn’t into drug smuggling,” Derrick insisted. “We both know Monette wasn’t selling coke.”
“She was in the car with those guys. They came back from Florida with cocaine hidden in a cooler stuffed in raw meat.” Talia let out a bitter laugh. “Not exactly the smartest plan.”
“Monette says they picked her up at a nightclub. The Crystal Palace, remember it?” Derrick frowned. “She used to hang out there all the time.”
“Of course I remember that dump. I went there looking for her often enough.”
“Right, so her story makes sense. She didn’t know anything about the coke that night. She was just looking to party. They told her they could hook her up after they settled a little business.”
Talia let out a harsh hiss. “She told a lot of versions about how she ended up in the car. Monette wasn’t going to admit she knew about the coke.”
“I don’t think she did it, Talia. I really don’t.” Derrick brushed her hair.
“Wait a minute.” Talia frowned at him. “Damn it, you can’t afford to let her pull you into this,” she said low.
“Talia—”
“I don’t want you to get involved. She’s got this big-time law professor working on it.” Talia gripped both his arms. “Stay out of this whole thing with Monette, Derrick.”
He could see fear in her brown eyes. “Larry wants me to prepare a summary for Winn Barron.”
“I don’t understand why the attorney general should care.” Talia stared into his eyes. “Just how big was this drug operation?”
“I’m not sure yet, but Barron has political ambitions.”
“I don’t give a damn about him. Promise me you’ll just give them a summary and nothing else.” Talia tugged on his arms for emphasis. “Please!”
“I want to know the truth, too, Talia.”
“We know the truth where Monette is concerned,” Talia snapped. “You’re safe as long as she’s in prison,” she said.