Still shaken up after her conversation with Devin, Shayla put on her running clothes and escaped to Hangman’s Woods as soon as she got back to Helena. Even though she was angry that Devin considered her a charity case, she was mindful of her promise to him to leave the woods before dark. Her run was short due to this, but the brief time she spent surrounded by the silence was enough to calm her.
She’d been more shaken than angry. He’d hit a nerve when he’d accused her of taking the easy way out. Her “it’s easier” motto had gotten her through too many hurtful situations. It was easier to pretend as if the emotional pain she suffered didn’t bother her. As if she were immune to the fact that so many people she wanted in her life didn’t feel the same. She’d only gotten the attention of those who wanted to use her, and because she’d craved attention, she’d taken whatever she could get.
Tasha was right, she needed therapy. She was completely screwed up. But didn’t it make her crazy if she saw a therapist? It was tough telling the few people she did trust how she felt, and even now found it easier to breeze over the difficult situations in her life than go into detail. Maybe it would be easier, to confide in someone who was supposed to judge her and tell her why she made such bad decisions?
One problem: her lack of a job, and therefore lack of a way to pay a therapist. That idea would have to go on hold until there was a break in that department. She had enough savings to cover her living expenses, but not regular visits to a shrink.
The sun was falling beneath the skyline when she finally left Hangman’s Woods. There weren’t any crazy looking people hanging around when she left. Devin probably made it all up as another way to “help” her. As she jogged the remaining distance back to her home, the sky darkened and there was a chill in the air. She shivered as a breeze cooled the sweat on her back. Her pace increased on the last block to her house. When she stopped in her driveway another shiver went down her spine, but this one was in trepidation.
Her mom looked up from where she sat on Shayla’s porch. Her lips were twisted in a frown. She shook her head as her gaze skimmed over Shayla.
“Do you have to run around town almost naked?”
Shayla suppressed an eye roll. “I’m not almost naked. A sports bra and running pants are perfectly decent.” She said stretching her legs.
“You could run in a sweat suit.”
“I don’t think so. Even though it’s cool now, it was warm when I started. Try that suggestion again in February.” She continued to stretch and Marcella watched in silence. A few minutes later, Shayla met her mom’s gaze, who quickly looked away.
“Did you come here just to talk about my clothes?” It was a redundant question. After her show in Club Voracious, her mom could only be there to lecture her.
Marcella shook her head. “No, I came because you missed church today. I know why you missed. I had to hear it all day about Devin dragging you . . . drunk . . . from that club.”
“Would you rather he had left me drunk at the club?”
“I’d rather you didn’t embarrass me like that. I shouldn’t be surprised. Your daddy used to go out and get drunk like that.” Her mom looked at her briefly. “You look and act just like him.”
Another breeze drifted through the trees. Crossing her arms to ward of the chill, Shayla walked up the stairs. “Let’s go inside, it’s getting cold.”
Her mom stood, but shook her head. “No, I’m not coming in. This will only take a minute.” She reached into the pocket of her house coat and pulled out a blue sheet of paper. “They’re looking for volunteers for the church’s fall festival. I signed you up.” She shoved the paper in Shayla’s hand.
Shayla quickly scanned the paper, a flyer outlining the volunteer needs for the annual fall festival. It was held on Halloween night as an alternative to trick-or-treating. Spending a night helping kids bob for apples and do the latest line dance wasn’t her idea of fun.
“I’m not doing this.”
Marcella’s eyes hardened. “Yes you are. You’ve barely been home two weeks and already people are talking. I won’t let you drag my name through the mud.”
“Your name?”
“Yes, whatever you do reflects on me. This will give you something to do besides go clubbing with your friends, drinking to excess, and seducing Devin Jones.”
Shayla furiously tapped her toe. “I’m not seducing Devin Jones.”
“Good, because he deserves a good woman. Someone like Kia, who won’t embarrass him. Believe me. I know how hard it is to be tied to someone who doesn’t give a damn about how they make their family look.” Her gaze scathed coldly over Shayla.
The comment could refer to her or her father. They’d both had caused a fair amount of embarrassment and pain for her mom. Marcella hated the ties to both of them. Swallowing the pain, Shayla lifted her chin. She gave her mom what she hoped was a look of boredom.
She held out the paper. “Don’t worry yourself. Devin agrees with you and everyone else in this town. We’re not getting together.”
Marcella reared back. “Are you telling me you tried?”
Shayla’s lips lifted into a frozen smile. “No, we actually laughed about the way everyone assumes I’ll seduce him. We’re friends, that’s it; we’re too different to be together.”
Relief flashed in Marcella’s eyes. “Good, so you’ll have plenty of time to help with the festival.”
“I don’t want to help.”
Her mom finally met her eyes. The resentment and anger in her gaze was enough to silence anything Shayla had to say. “You will help with the festival. You need to be around decent people for a change. Learn how to carry yourself with some respect. I don’t ask you for much, but I’m telling you you’re gonna do this.”
Shayla’s frantic toe tapping stopped. Slowly, she pulled the paper back and pressed it against her chest. She wanted a mom that loved her. That may be disappointed in the mistakes she made, but would still welcome her home. But she didn’t have that. And fighting Marcella damn sure wouldn’t give her that.
“Fine,” she said.
Her mom tipped her head in a stiff nod. “Alright.” She took a deep breath then looked away. “I left a plate for you on the stove. Come and get it after you put on some clothes.”
“Fine.”
Her mom walked off the porch and down the street toward her house. Her stride was stiff, as if she were in pain. She must have waited on the porch for a long time.
After Marcella entered her house, Shayla went into her own rented home and looked over the flyer. No telling what task her mom signed her up to do. She was tired of fighting her. It was too hard. This was easier, and something she could do well. One thing she was good at was promotion. Every church in Helena had a fall festival for as long as she could remember, but none stood out from the rest. She’d put all of her efforts into making Mt. Grove Missionary Baptist Church’s fall festival the best one the town had ever seen. She’d make members from other churches leave their festivals just to come to this one. She’d get along with everyone on the committee, smile until her face cracked and become the best damn decent church volunteer Helena, South Carolina had ever seen.