Saturday, January 13, 2007
1:47pm
The past couple of weeks have been great. Victor and I have an excellent “business with benefits” relationship. Whenever we want to hook up, we do. Not at all times do we have sex. Sometimes we use it as a getaway from our normal surroundings and just chill. It’s a glorious escape from all the bullshit that goes on around here. He’s my fresh form of therapy since I’ve yet gone back to Ms. Young. My mother still has told no one about her situation and walks around as if everything’s okay. Sam is having his grand opening for his business tomorrow—thanks to my mother’s money—and I doubt if I go. His dumb ass is opening up a men’s boutique on a strip downtown, near South Beach, where there are a dozen other men boutiques. I know Victor will be there because he went against my advice and remained an investor in Sam’s bullshit business, anyway.
Work has been going well. The requirements for my clientele have exceeded for the month, and Felicia commends me on my growth. I plan to get my place downtown next month. The pool house has become uncomfortable since Sam has moved in. Sometimes it feels as though someone is watching me and for that reason alone, I have to get a place of my own. The only people that’ll have a key are Savannah and Lucia. My mother definitely won’t. I know if I give her access, she’ll be there every day trying to run my life. What she needs to do is try to fix her own life; in every aspect. I still to this day would like to know which one of those nasty men transmitted her with the disease. Everyone that she’s screwing is screwing someone else, and who knows who that someone else is screwing.
What’s so fucked up about it is my mother had the nerve to judge me and tell me how I was going to hell when she found out about Carmen. She has a lot of nerve. What makes her believe she wouldn’t or can’t go to hell for passing judgment. She’s such a devil! Speaking of....
“Are you busy?” my mother interrupts as she barges through the door.
“Not really, just doing a little writing.” I close my journal and place it under my pillow.
“You still writing in those damn diaries, I see.” I won’t argue with her today because it’s Sunday.
“Um, yes. Since that’s what you call it,” I reply as I laugh at my thought of not entertaining her foolishness.
“Mind if we chat?” She sits at the bay window.
“Don’t mind if we do.” I get out of bed and join her in the window, sitting Indian-style. “What’s on your mind, Mother?”
“I’ll be going away soon.” She grabs my hand.
“Is everything okay? Where are you going away to? How long will you be gone? Are you just doing this so I can stay in this house? Because if you are, it won’t work. I still plan to move.”
“Everything is okay. Where I’m going is, none of your business and I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone, but I don’t leave for two months. I know it’ll be long enough to kick this drinking habit I’ve picked up. I’m not worried about you moving, little girl. You’ll never be able to make it out in the actual world without the help of your mother.”
I know she will not go to rehab for her drinking, but I go with it, anyway. And who in the hell is she referring to as a little girl. I laugh out loud at her series of bullshit. “Okay, Mother,” is all I say. I just pray she’s going to treatment for her disease and not just alcohol.
“Are you going to the grand opening tomorrow?”
What do you care? I think to myself before replying, “I didn’t plan on it.”
“Victor will be there,” she teases.
“And your point is?” I ask sarcastically.
“Well, don’t you want to see him?”
“I see him enough. I am his personal banker, or did you forget?”
“Oh yes, that’s right. I forgot about that. Oh, well, I’m going shopping for something to wear to the opening. I’ll see you later,” Her weight loss is noticeable as she walks away.
“Later, Mother.” I go to the refrigerator for a beer.
My mother stops and speaks with her back towards me, “While I’m gone, Sam will continue to stay here. I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t be so… so… standoffish with him. Thank you.” She exits, leaving the door open behind her.
She has to be joking with me. This dude uses her, moves in and uses her more, has a whole wife and family, and she expects me to act a certain way towards him. Fuck him. The lemon I squeeze in my beer squirts me in the face. I giggle it off. I wonder if Lucia knows about this mess.
A pair of joggers rest on the chair, so I put them on, grab another beer out of the refrigerator, and head to the main house with bottles in hand; one for me and one for Lucia. She’s in her suite sprawled out on her sofa watching TV while Bella is on the other sofa chatting away on the phone. She swings her feet around and tells me to sit, but I take a seat on the floor.
“Did you know mother was leaving in two months?” I hand her a beer.
“Bella, to room go and talk on phone,” she tells her daughter. When Bella leaves the room, she says to me, “Her for treatment go, right?”
“She said she will go to rehab for her drinking.” I peel the label off the beer bottle.
“Her lie. Her go for treatment. Director of place call to confirm her admit date. Her say Sam stay here.”
“Yes, and that’s the part that creeps me out.”
“Me too.” Lucia squirms.
“I plan to have my place by then. You and Bella can stay with me whenever you want.”
“Oh, Serenity, me kill he him try anyting.” We both giggle and cheer to that.