by Emery, Lynn
“There is no injury. I know every inch of my child’s body, and she has a bruise that’s almost gone. And I haven’t been charged, let alone convicted of a crime. I don’t see how you can come into my house accusing me of not taking care of my baby.” MiMi’s voice rose with each word.
“What the hell is goin’ on up in here?” Jazz said. She stopped short when the policewoman walked in front of her.
“I’m Officer Wells, ma’am. Mrs. Young is trying to get the facts for her report. I’m sure this will be cleared up soon. If you’ll just give us a minute.”
“No, I want a witness,” MiMi said firmly. “Jazz don’t leave.”
“Staying put,” Jazz said with attitude. She returned the policewoman’s gaze. They looked at each other as if agreeing neither would move.
MiMi spun around to face Mrs. Young again. “Tell me who called in this fake report.”
“We don’t reveal the source of a complaint, Ms. Landry. Listen, no one says youphysically harmed your child on purpose. If I can get exactly what happened, in particular about three weeks ago when you left your child alone–”
“I’ve never left Sage alone, and whoever says I did is lying,” MiMi shouted. Her voice broke. Tears threatened, but for a very different reason than moments before.
Mrs. Young consulted a small note pad she took from her pocket. “You were with a man on a date on April tenth, according to the report.”
“Sage was with my sister. You can confirm with her. This is ridiculous.” MiMi’s mood took a sharp right turn from fear to anger.
“So your sister kept the child while you spent the night with this gentleman. The bruise is from an accident when you weren’t looking at the baby perched on the chair.” Mrs. Young took notes, a slight frown of concentration on her face.
“You’re making me sound like a neglectful slut who’d rather have sex than take care of my daughter. I thought you people were supposed to be objective. I want to know who fed you this garbage.” MiMi felt her body shudder with rage.
“Ms. Landry, I’m here to get your explanation in answer to these allegations. I assure you that we haven’t drawn any conclusions based on the report. You’ll be able to tell your side in court,” Mrs. Young said in a calm, steady voice.
“What do you mean in court?” MiMi took a step back. Before the social worker could answer, the chimes sounded again.
“I’ll go.” Jazz left and returned with a man.
“MiMi Landry?” the man glanced around.
“Yes.” MiMi blinked at him.
“This is for you.” The man extended something to her.
MiMi took the folded paper. The man nodded and left. As she read, the letters on the beige legal-sized document blurred and ran together. Her body went numb as the world seemed to shatter. She heard voices, but they sounded muffled. Then the lights went out.
****
MiMi spent almost three days in a fog of depression. Fortunately, she had her friends. If Willa’s mother knew anything, it was how to respond in a domestic crisis. MiMi had fainted once she read the summons. Her sister had filed a petition to get custody of Sage.
Mama Ruby went into action like an Army general marshaling the troops. Willa was dispatched to pick up Sage from the daycare center. She’d had to assure MiMi that the child welfare worker had no grounds to place the child in foster care immediately. A court order would have been required, and a judge would only grant an order if she was in immediate danger. Jazz called Elle to explain the situation. For four days Elle covered for MiMi at the office. She even made it appear that MiMi kept sending emails. Willa’s twin brothers checked to make sure no odd jobs were needed at the house. With their support, MiMi’s world didn’t fall part while she moved around in a daze. All she wanted to do was hold Sage and cry. Finally after two days, Jazz cut through the gentle talk.
“Look, girl. You have to keep sending Sage to daycare. You got to keep your job. And you can’t let this house go to hell. You’ll just give your sister more dirt to report to the judge. Now get your ass out of that robe.”
Slowly MiMi let go of the self-pity. She got equal doses of tender and tough love. By the following weekend, MiMi had strength to start planning. Sunday morning they’d gone to church. Willa’s Aunt Ametrine beamed when they entered the doors of Saintsville Church of God. The choir rocked the house with gospel songs. Reverend L.C. Grimes preached a powerful sermon, and MiMi felt renewed. Two hours later they went to Mama Ruby’s house for Sunday dinner. The smell of baked chicken, scalloped potatoes, green beans and buttered yeast rolls filled the kitchen.
“Ruby, you should have been there. Rev. Grimes showed out. Praise His Holy name,” Aunt Ametrine announced as she strode ahead of Willa, MiMi and the children through the kitchen door.
“Yeah, and he showed out for a loooong time,” said her husband as he peeled off his suit jacket.
“Uncle Preston, you’re so crazy,” Willa said with a laugh.
“My pastor prayed, sung and preached up a mighty storm,” Aunt Ametrine continued. She spared only a second to shoot her better half a heated sideways glance.
“He could have done it in half the time and been just as powerful,” Uncle Preston wisecracked.
“At Glen Oaks Methodist we’re in and out in an hour, brother-in-law. Thank you, Lord!” Papa Elton shared a hearty laugh with Uncle Preston. The two middle-aged mischief makers slapped palms and shook hands.
“Y’all need to quit. Ametrine is going to start splashing some of that anointed oil to drive the demons out of you,” Mama Ruby joked.
“See that’s what’s wrong with the world. Y’all playing with the Lord’s business, and on his day to boot. Umph, umph, umph.” Aunt Ametrine took off her church hat and marched off. “I’m going to wash up before I help set the table.”
“We have everything just about ready, Ametrine,” Mama Ruby called after her.
“Always more to be done,” she echoed back down the hall.
“Which means things done the way she thinks they should be,” Willa said aside to MiMi.
“Ametrine ain’t takin’ over my kitchen or my dining room. So she just might as well set her holy roller butt down and eat,” Mama Ruby replied tartly.
“Thanks for inviting me to your big Sunday dinner.” MiMi smiled when Sage gurgled as if in agreement.
“Don’t be silly. You’re always invited. Do what the rest of town does, just stop by and fill a plate.” Willa grinned at her.
The toddler seemed to enjoy all the action around them. Willa’s kids, Anthony and Mikayla came in to greet their sibling. Papa Elton and Uncle Preston got into a spirited discussion of sports with Anthony. True to her word, Mama Ruby fended off her sister’s attempts to order and re-order things.
MiMi sneaked a dinner roll when Mama Ruby turned her back. “Your uncle was right. Girl, I’m so hungry. You should have warned me those folks stay in church forever.”
Willa burst out laughing. “Why do you think Jazz told her thanks, but no thanks when she invited us?”
“I figured she was being her usual heathen self, as your aunt would say.” MiMi grinned back.
“Come on, Sage. Let’s play with our cousins.” Mikayla swooped the child out of MiMi’s arms and was gone in seconds. In the background, more children added to the joyful noise.
Jazz strolled in dressed in a denim jacket over a maxi skirt. “Hey everybody.” A chorus answered her. “Damn it’s loud up in here.”
“Hey, girl. I’m glad you came.” Willa hugged her.
“Yeah, whatever.” Jazz looked pleased despite her response. Then she glanced at MiMi. “You lookin’ a lot better.”
“On the surface. I just can’t believe Adrienne went so far.” MiMi started to say more, but Willa waved at her to stop.
“Let’s go where we can talk.”
Willa pointed to the kitchen door leading into the house. MiMi and Jazz followed her. They went down a hallway past the living room where several adults held a loud discu
ssion. Farther along, the children played in the family room, or what Papa Elton called his “man cave”.
“You gotta be kidding,” Jazz retorted. “This house is stuffed with chattering kinfolks.”
“Yeah, but they’re staying close to the food,” Willa replied.
They ended up on the large screened in porch. A covered patio extended beyond the enclosed area. Papa Elton’s prized grill sat there with another table and chairs. MiMi and Willa sat at a round glass table with five matching chairs. Jazz went to a swing sofa.
Mama Ruby appeared in the doorway. “We’re going to be eating soon, so don’t get into any trouble.”
“Who us?” Jazz affected a wide-eyed look.
“No rushing off to start some confusion. This is Sunday family time and…”
“Relax, Miss Ruby. Rev. Grimes stirred up the spirit of starvation with that long sermon. I’m not going anywhere,” MiMi quipped.
“I hear ya. The man can beat a point to death. Ten minutes or I’m coming back to get you.”
“Yes, ma’am,” MiMi replied.
“We promise,” Willa added. Mama Ruby left.
“That food is smelling good,” Jazz said. She turned to MiMi. “I can talk some sense to your sister if you want.”
“Jazz, don’t even joke about going after Adrienne.” Willa lay back in her chair and propped her feet on a second one.
“Ignore her, MiMi. Listen, I can be real persuasive.” Jazz gave MiMi a wink.
“I’m going to ignore you instead,” Willa said in a dry voice. She looked at MiMi. “Courts don’t like to separate kids from their biological parent. The judge will want something pretty substantial to prove Sage should go to your sister.”
“How about her mama has no job, went to prison in a foreign country for weed and is a murder suspect. Sounds substantial enough to me.” MiMi swallowed hard. She resisted the urge to run inside and grab Sage for a tight hug.
“You really think your sister will get that down and dirty?” Willa asked.
MiMi stood and made a circle around the seating area. “Oh yes. I should have seen this coming. She kept offering to keep Sage longer than necessary. How she took over buying her clothes. She even decorated a bedroom at her house for Sage like she’d be living there. I’m such an idiot.”
“I don’t get it. Why doesn’t she just try for another baby to complete her trophy family?” Willa looked at MiMi.
“Adrienne had problems conceiving the first time, something to do with fibroid tumors. Her first pregnancy was close to a miracle. Mama told me her doctor says she really should have a hysterectomy.” MiMi stared across the green lawn of the backyard.
“So she decides to take her niece. Damn, talk about gangsta.” Jazz shook her head.
“She doesn’t care if she breaks your heart and destroys your reputation.” Willa frowned. “I mean you’re family.”
“Adrienne will do what it takes to get what she wants. She and daddy are a lot alike.”
“Of course Mrs. Got Rocks will show up and represent like her family is picture perfect. Too bad you can’t sling some dirt on her.” Jazz grunted.
“Custody cases can get pretty nasty.” Willa bit her lower lip.
The three friends sat silent for several minutes. Their somber moods descended like a cloud. No one smiled. Sunshine outside and laugher coming from inside the house didn’t even seem to help. Finally, Willa sighed and stood. She walked to the screen door, but didn’t go through it to the open patio.
“Mama Ruby’s flowers are going to bloom pretty all summer. She’s got a green thumb. The woman loves digging in the dirt.” Willa smiled.
“Dirt!” MiMi blurted out and slapped her hands together. Willa and Jazz jumped at the same time.
Jazz looked at Willa. “I think she’s snapped.”
“No, no. You both said dirt. Don’t you see?” MiMi spread her arms. She glanced from Willa to Jazz and back again.
“Um, not really.” Willa cast a side-eye at her sister.
“I’m not losing my mind. You said custody cases get nasty.” MiMi pointed at Willa. Then she pointed at Jazz. “You said we should sling dirt at Adrienne.”
“Okay.” Jazz raised her eyebrows.
“Adrienne’s marriage isn’t perfect. Yes, a scandal is what we need. I can go hard, too.” MiMi wore a wicked grin.
“Your thinking up evil stuff. I like it,” Jazz said and matched MiMi’s wicked grin with one of her own.
“Are you sure those civilized society folks will act a fool?” Willa wore a skeptical frown. “Adrienne knows about the mistress, and you said Chris won’t leave his trophy family.”
“Most mistresses are lying when they claim they don’t care if he stays with the wife. Plus if Chris and Adrienne have one skeleton tucked away, then they have more. Let’s find that walk-in closet and take a look around. Shall we?” MiMi crossed her arms. Willa’s frown eased into a smile, and Jazz nodded with glee.
Chapter 14
Monday morning MiMi dove into work with more energy. Her outlook had changed. She no longer felt pressed down by the weight of certain doom ahead. When Kerry called, MiMi brightly reported progress on her projects. Kerry implied MiMi wasn’t telling the truth. Even that didn’t provoke MiMi the way it might have a few days before.
An hour later, Elle arrived at her house with fabric samples. Not even pictures would do, since texture and feel would help MiMi make buying decisions for the fall line. She pulled a rolling cart with samples and parked it by the sofa. Then she dropped a large white bag on the coffee table.
“I brought some famous Mickey’s donuts. I hope you have coffee made,” Elle said. She glanced around. “Nice home office you got set up.”
“Thanks, but I’m not hungry. Has marketing set up the fall catalog yet? I need to finalize what we’ll offer so they can fill in the clothes section. Julie in New York already has the accessories section done.” MiMi dove into the samples and started scribbling notes.
“We’ve got time. It’s only April. The final copy isn’t due until mid June.” Elle dug into the bag and pulled out a glazed donut. “Coffee?”
“In the kitchen. I want the cosmetics line to coordinate with this season’s hot colors, you know eye shadows and lip sticks. Then we want to make sure that new line of fashion jewelry complements the sweaters and skirts.” MiMi spoke loud enough for Elle to hear her.
“Uh-huh,” Elle called back. When she returned, she brought two cups on a tray. “You’ve been working since six o’clock this morning.”
“How would you know that?” MiMi didn’t look up from the fabrics. She fingered the textures. “This one seems a bit thin.”
“Because you sent me emails, that’s how. At least you took a break to take Sage to daycare.” Elle put the tray down with a sigh. She walked over and picked up the textile sample in question. “They’re going to line it with a poly rayon blend. It’ll be fine for the career jackets we selected. Remember, these will be sold in the south where it doesn’t get all that cold. The heavier fabrics will be sold in the Midwest and Northeast stores.”
“I’ll call Julie to see if she’s seen these colors. She should have emailed the pictures of the jewelry by now.” MiMi reached for her phone.
Elle blocked her by moving the cordless handset. “It’s nine thirty, coffee and chat time.”
“You do know my boss and her minion are plotting to get me fired, right? I have to score big this time around or I’m out.” MiMi tried to push Elle’s hand away. She sighed when her friend grabbed up the phone. “Elle, c’mon. You’re supposed to be on my side.”
“Your clothes look loose. Have you just been feeding Sage and not eating?” Elle gave her a critical complete body examination.
“I may need a new career as a model or pole dancer. So I could stand to lose a few pounds. Now give me the phone.” MiMi gave her pal a mock scowl.
“You need to keep up your strength. I’m cooking you a healthy breakfast of oatmeal with fresh apples, ci
nnamon and milk. I found bacon in the fridge to go with it.” Elle smacked her lips. “Umm, good.”
“Cut it out.” MiMi turned back to looking at sample magazine pages. “I like these sweaters and skirts. Do these slacks for women look a bit too masculine to you?”
“I’ll think about it while I’m stirring the oatmeal.” Elle spun around and went back to the kitchen. Seconds later, the smell of fresh coffee mixed with bacon.
“I don’t have time to eat,” MiMi complained. But the smells coming from the kitchen made her stomach growl. She looked down at her midsection. “Shut up you traitor.”
“You’re going to eat,” Elle yelled back as if she had communicated with MiMi’s appetite already.
The chimes in the hallway signaled another unwanted intrusion. MiMi marched past the kitchen and breakfast alcove across the open floor plan. She ignored Elle. “If those Jehovah Witnesses are on my doorstep, they’re about to learn some new words.”
Instead her mother stood outside scanning the neighborhood as though assessing it for approval. Her mother looked at least ten years younger than her fifty-nine years. Her short modified long bob haircut suited her heart-shaped face. She wore a turquoise pullover t-shirt with white yoga style pants. Floral sandals and a taupe purse completed the outfit. When she turned to the door with an impatient frown, MiMi jumped as if caught doing something wrong. Pauline Mims Landry had always inspired anxiety.
MiMi undid the locks and swung the door open quickly. “Good morning, mother. What a pleasant surprise.”
Pauline gave her a smile that lacked warmth. She brushed by MiMi without waiting for an invitation to come in. “Hello, dear. I apologize for not calling, but frankly I wasn’t sure you’d answer. Caller ID is a gift and a curse these days. Interesting choices for the foyer.”
“Thanks,” MiMi said, ignoring the fact that her mother’s comment wasn’t a compliment. “I’m about to have breakfast. You’re welcome to join me.”
“You hired a cook?” Pauline’s shapely eyebrows went up. Her hazel eyes seemed to question how MiMi could afford such a luxury.