All I Want Is Forever (14 page)

“Yeah, Miss Brave. Then what?” she muttered.

“I'm out of my mind,” Talia whispered for the tenth time that morning.

A female guard dumped out the contents of her black leather tote-style purse. Talia had been asked to take her pager and cell phone back to the car. Now she was being checked once again.

“Rules, ma'am,” the stone-faced guard clipped. A picture ID tag clipped to her shirt had the name Helen Batiste on it.

“I understand.” Talia winced when the guard dropped her small cosmetic bag onto the metal table.

“What's this?” Officer Batiste held up a plastic bag

“Pictures of her grandkids,” Talia said. “I just left them in the bag from Walmart where I bought the album.”

“Uh-huh.” Officer Batiste was already examining the contents.

You were going to look anyway, so why ask?
Talia pressed her lips together to keep from tossing out a smart remark. This was not the time, or the place, and Officer Batiste was definitely not someone she wanted to annoy.

“Okay.” Officer Batiste handed her the bag and her
purse. She nodded crisply and pointed to another female guard. “Officer Landers is taking everybody back. Have a good one.”

Talia felt the urge to salute but had sense enough not to. She followed the line. Officer Landers, a short plump redhead with freckles, wore a sunny smile. She chatted with several visitors as she led them to a large room with tables and chairs.

“Y'all know the rules; no giving gifts we haven't checked up front. You can share food, but the ladies can't keep leftovers. No sitting on laps, no long passionate kisses. This is a
family
situation. I'll remind you if you forget.” Officer Landers eyed several men in low-slung pants and baggy shirts. Despite her smile, she seemed just as capable of enforcing the rules as Officer Batiste. “Enjoy.”

Officer Landers waved one hand to signal two officers at a door across the room. There was a rush of babbling voices and footsteps as women dressed in denim shirts and jeans came in. Most wore wide smiles. Others looked taciturn. Talia gripped the purse to her midsection. She wanted to bolt but stood firm as she scanned the faces. It suddenly struck her how long it had been. They might not recognize each other.

“You all right, miss?” Officer Landers spoke over her shoulder causing Talia to jump. “Must be your first time.”

“I've been here before. It's been a while though.” Talia felt guilt wash over her.

“Seeing somebody you love locked up is no day at the beach.” Officer Landers touched her elbow lightly. “Who are you here to see?”

Talia felt like a little girl lost at the mall. She collected herself and squared her shoulders. “Monette Victor.”

“Oh? She didn't have visitors for years. Now she's
gotten two in the last six months.” Officer Landers looked at her with open curiosity. “Anyway, here comes another group. Let me know if you need anything.”

“Thanks.”

Talia found an empty seat at a round white table attached to the concrete floor. When Officer Landers waved at her from across the room, Talia gave her a shaky smile. Then an odd sensation washed over her. She looked around the room, and her heart thumped hard. A statuesque woman the color of nutmeg stood just inside the door staring at Talia. Her thick black hair, streaked with a few strands of silver, was pulled back into a ponytail. Her round face was still pretty, though it had more lines now. Other prisoners went around her to get into the room. Monette smiled at her tentatively as though not sure if she should. Talia inhaled deeply and let out a slow breath as she stood.

“Hey, you blockin' everybody else. Either go in or go out.” A caramel-colored prisoner with her hair in cornrows grimaced as she brushed against Monette.

“Shut up, Candy,” Monette replied without taking her eyes off Talia.

“You want some of this?” Candy bumped her shoulder into Monette's. The rough-talking woman raised an eyebrow.

Talia blinked hard at the glimpse into real prison life. How could she have ever wished this on her own mother? “Leave her alone,” she blurted out before she knew it.

Candy paused in the act of scanning the visiting area and looked at Talia. “That's your kid. Gotta be with her bold mouth.” The woman barked a gruff laugh and slapped Monette on the back.

“Shut up.” Monette seemed to exchange a silent signal with her. Candy nodded and left.

Monette strolled across the floor. Even in prison
clothes she walked with self-possession. Several men noticed her hip-swinging stride as she passed them. Candy called out another joke, but Talia didn't hear it. All she could see was her mother, graceful in the midst of a harsh environment. Images from her childhood rushed back. Her mother must have sensed the effect she was having on Talia. Her steps slowed, as though she was giving Talia time to adjust.

“How ya doin'?” Monette's alto voice was husky with emotion. More men glanced around at the sensual timbre.

“Fine,” Talia managed to say despite the lump in her throat.

“Sit back down,” Monette said, with a gesture to the seat.

“That woman—” Talia nodded to Candy who sat alone at a table staring at them.

“What?” Monette looked over her shoulder. She waved at Candy. “Oh, don't mind that fool. We like messin' with each other.”

“Oh.” Talia felt only a little tension ease from her shoulders. She sat down on the small bench and put her purse on the table.

Monette sat across from her. She gazed at Talia from head to toe. “I'm glad to see ya.”

“Good to see you, too.” Talia's response was automatic. Her thoughts whirled as she stared back at her mother with equal intensity.

Monette seemed to read her mind. “Yeah, I've changed. Had a lot of work done on my teeth for one.” She grinned revealing even, white teeth. “One thing about being locked up, you get pretty damn good dental benefits.”

Talia nodded and continued to stare at her. “I see.”

“Ain't many other benefits, but I been makin' the most of my stay. Got my high school certificate.” Mo
nette shrugged. “Couldn't sit still when I was a teenager. That ain't a problem here.”

“Right.”

“It could be worse. We got a library. I work on the newsletter, too.” Monette's smile faltered. “Say somethin'.”

Talia snapped out of the fog of memories and emotions. She took the photos from the bag. “Karl sent these. Karl, Jr. plays pee-wee football. The baby, Rashida, just started kindergarten. She's the cutest thing. Looks just like my baby pictures.”

Though she knew she was babbling, Talia couldn't stop. She dredged up every anecdote Karl had told her about the kids. Monette stared at the photos, nodding and smiling. She laughed at Talia's account of their exploits.

“They sure are some beautiful babies. And you right, Rashida looks just like you did at that age. Got that same spunky spark in her eyes, too.” Monette looked at each picture at least three times. She pushed them back to Talia.

“Those are yours to keep. I got you this to put them in.” Talia held up the small dark blue album with the words
SWEET MEMORIES
embossed in silver on the leather cover.

Monette touched the book's surface with her fingertips. She looked into Talia's eyes. Tears filled her own until one spilled down her cheek. “For me.”

“Yes.” Talia swallowed hard and looked away. “I mean you need something to keep them in. I didn't think they'd let you have frames. The glass and metal might…” Her voice faded.

“Thanks.” Monette grasped Talia's right hand tightly, then let go after a few seconds.

“You're welcome,” Talia whispered, and choked back her own tears.

Monette sat straight and took a tissue from her shirt pocket. “Came prepared,” she joked through tears as she dabbed at her eyes.

Talia bit her lower lip and glanced around as though interested in the walls. Monette sniffed a few more times, then tapped her hand. When Talia looked at her again, the old cocky smile she knew was back.

“So tell me all about your hotshot career and big-city life. Miz Rose swears you got the town by the tail.” Monette laughed. “You're using the family gift of fast talk honestly. 'Bout time one of us did.”

“Mama Rose tends to exaggerate.” Still Talia blushed. “I'm a political consultant on the Hill. I help organizations negotiate all the complications of dealing with the federal bureaucracy.”

“A lobbyist?” Monette crossed her arms. “Good for you. Lotta money and influence.”

“Well, I do some of what a lobbyists does, but more. I help educate congressmen on issues, give organizations information on federal policies and procedures, things like that.”

“Oh, yeah.” Monette nodded. “You use information and know lots of stuff.”

“Definitely. We maintain our own database and use good professional research web sites.”

“Gotcha. So you've got inside tips that folks need to get heard, like who to talk to and how to talk to 'em.” Monette sat forward. “Sounds like a good spot to be in.”

“I like knowing the ins and outs of all those complicated rules and regs, sure.” Talia smiled.

“Bet you're good at it, too. Didn't need Miz Rose to tell me that. You always had a sharp brain.” Monette gazed at her with pride.

“I work hard.” Talia felt deep pleasure at the simple compliment. She'd always wanted Monette's approval.

“Sure, but you also got talent and spunk. I'm glad you didn't throw it away, like I did. Course, I was never smart in books like you.”

“You're no dummy. When I was real small you had all kinds of books on history, psychology, and sociology.” Talia didn't mention that her mother sold them over time.

“Yeah, tryin' to make up for wastin' my school years.”

“You have a curious mind, that's a sign of an educated person. Not from a college, but from an interest in the world.” Talia smiled slightly. “I remember you could argue politics with the best of them.”

“Always was shootin' off my big mouth. Everybody knew my opinion.” Monette laughed at herself.

“One time you were working at Rudy's Diner. Remember? Your boss got mad because you knew more than he did about managing the place.”

“Rudy.” Monette rolled her eyes. “His own kin was stealin' him blind. A fool coulda done better.”

“He fired you for taking meat from the restaurant. Later on he found out it was his bum of a nephew.” Talia looked down at her hands. “It wasn't fair.”

Monette had made efforts to live a straight life, especially after ultimatums from child welfare workers. Talia remembered other jobs lost through layoff, relatives who stole their last money for rent, and friends who betrayed Monette's trust.

“I made a lot of downright stupid choices.” Monette shook her head slowly. “One thing my Narcotics Anonymous group did was strip away the excuses. Life is hard no matter what. You can either face it clean or face it on drugs. Either way it ain't easy for nobody.”

“You couldn't help the family you were born into or what adults did to you. You were just a kid. They were supposed to protect you.” Talia bit off the last words.

Monette frowned. She rubbed a hand over her face. “I didn't want you to hear that crap. I ain't lookin' for an alibi, Talia.”

“I know that, but—”

“Let me finish. Shoulda told you this a long time ago.” Monette sighed deeply.

“I pretty much shut you out after the conviction. You tried talking to me,” Talia said.

“You cut me off after years of me makin' your life miserable.” Monette held up a palm to forestall Talia's response. “We was both there, so don't try to fix it up.”

“I wasn't going to.”

They sat in silence for a time. Talia wouldn't waste time arguing. As her mother pointed out, they both knew the truth. The difference now was Monette seemed to have faced the ugliness. Gone was the sugar-coated explanations or evasions.

“The past can't be changed. All you can do is learn from it and move on.” Talia glanced into her mother's eyes, then looked away.

“I did my best, which wasn't all that good. But I also did my worst to you. I'm more sorry than you could ever know. I couldn't blame you for not speakin' to me again, for denyin' I'm even kin to you, much less your mama,” Monette said with intensity.

“Don't, Monette.” Talia gripped her hands together. Monette had summarized exactly how she'd felt for years.

“I'm not beatin' myself up. Just sayin' that if I was you, I'd have a hard time believin' these words. I let you down too many times.” Monette looked past the crowd, through the windows covered with metal grilles.

“Maybe we can get to know each other on a different basis,” Talia said in a faint voice.

Monette glanced at her. “I'd like that. I can't change the things I've done, but at least I can make you proud of me now.”

“Yes.” Talia didn't know what else to say. Part of her still held back. As her mother had said, there had been so many broken promises.

“I can't swear I'm some church lady these days. It's easy to say all you gonna do when you locked up.” Monette swept a hand around. “Fact is a lot of inmates feel safe here with all the rules. What scares them is outside.”

“Really?” Talia gazed back at her. “You mean people want to stay here?”

“Some of 'em, yeah. Oh, not all of 'em know it. But they do stuff that messes up their release.”

“Your study of human psychology,” Talia said with a slight smile.

Monette smiled back at her and shrugged. “I guess. A lot of these women got less than nothin' outside. Got a husband that beats the daylights out of 'em, family on drugs or into thug life, livin' in shacks. Hell, why leave?”

“And you?” Talia gazed at her. “What do you have?”

She could list the reasons Monette would want to stay. Except for Karl, her children wanted nothing to do with her. The two youngest kids had good lives. They didn't want to be reminded of their mother or the things she'd done. Monette's sisters and brothers were either addicted or in prison themselves. Her mother was in a nursing home suffering from alcohol-induced dementia. Monette wore an impassive expression for a few moments. Then she seemed to transform before Talia's eyes. A hard, cunning smile spread across her face.