Damsels in Distress (4 page)

The woman raised her voice. “I know what was in the cans. I had a hundred dollars' worth of pennies. Give me my money!”

Linda Marshall, Celeste's supervisor, appeared at her side. “Is there a problem, Celeste?”

The old woman spoke. “Yes, there is a problem. She stole my money. I came in here with two coffee cans full of pennies and she brought me thirty-four dollars and some change.” The woman threw the money Celeste had given her on the counter.

Celeste was hot. That was the third time the woman accused her of stealing her money. “Look, old lady, I didn't—”

“Celeste, take a break,” Linda interrupted.

Celeste looked at her boss. “But, Linda, I didn't steal her money.”

Linda smiled at Celeste. “Take a break.”

Without another word Celeste scolded the old woman with her eyes and walked away. She went into the break room, made herself a cup of tea, and lay on a lounge chair. The old woman had Celeste so wound up, she had to count from one to ten to calm herself.

She dismissed all thoughts of what had just happened and thought about her situation with Anthony. She could only hope that her intimate time with him over the weekend was beneficial to her womb but deep down inside Celeste knew it wouldn't be. She had been lying to her husband for so long that Celeste wondered how much longer she could get away with making Anthony believe they were really working on conceiving before he found out the truth.

The door to the break room opened and Linda entered. “You can go back to your station now, Celeste. The crisis is over.”

“Oh, really? Did you give that woman more money?”

Linda chuckled. “Heck no. That old broad has pulled that stunt before. I think you were on vacation when she tried it last year. She came into the bank with two coffee cans filled with pennies. The teller gave her twenty bucks and a receipt. The old woman acted a fool claiming she had been cheated.”

Celeste couldn't believe it. “Are you serious, Linda? What happened?”

“After she was shown the surveillance tape of the teller putting the pennies in the coin machine and the machine displaying in big, bold red letters that the total came to twenty dollars, she took her money and left.”

Celeste shook her head from side to side. “That's a doggone shame, Linda. But you know what, I bet that old woman was just trying to make ends meet. It's hard out here. I blame the economy.”

Linda shrugged her shoulders. “Celeste, the economy may be bad but that doesn't give that old woman or anyone else an excuse to try to scam a bank.”

Celeste agreed. “That's true.”

Linda left Celeste alone in the break room. Celeste leaned her head back and closed her eyes. Suddenly Ginger's face appeared in her mind. Celeste immediately jumped up and walked to the employee's closet to retrieve her cellular phone from her purse. She didn't know why her fingers were shaking as she dialed the number to the school where Ginger worked as a teacher.

“Good afternoon, Brainerd Middle School,” the receptionist answered.

Celeste's heart was racing but she didn't know why. “Hello. I know Miss Brown is in class at the moment but may I please leave a message for her?”

“One moment please.” As instructed, the receptionist transferred Celeste's call and all calls pertaining to Ginger to the principal's office.

“Brainerd Middle School. Principal Sanford speaking.”

“Hey, Diane. It's Celeste.”

“Hey, girl. What's up? I missed you at church yesterday.”

“I wasn't feeling well,” she lied. Celeste was still angry at Ginger from Saturday night. She purposely missed church to not support Ginger as the emcee for the afternoon service. But at that moment Ginger was all Celeste could think about. Celeste felt that something was terribly wrong.

“So, what's up?” Diane asked Celeste. “You wanna do lunch today?” Celeste's bank was only two blocks away from the school. She, Ginger, and Diane met for lunch often.

“Actually, I'm calling for Ginger. I want you to put a note in her mailbox to call me.”

“Ginger is not here today, Celeste.”

Celeste frowned. “She's not? I thought the students were taking their Iowa Tests this week.”

“They are,” Diane confirmed. “But I had to call in a substitute teacher for Ginger's class this morning.”

“Did she call in sick?”

“She didn't call. Ronald did.”

Celeste's heart started racing. “Ron called off for her?”

Working so closely with Ginger every day and attending the same church, Diane knew what Ginger was going through with Ronald. What Celeste didn't know, and Diane wasn't about to share, was that Ginger called off at least three times a month whenever Ronald got violent. “Yep. He called the school early this morning and said that Ginger wasn't feeling well. Then he said she may need the entire week off.”

Celeste's palms were sweaty. “The whole week, Diane?”

“That's what Ron told me. I'm gonna give her a call this afternoon because I need to know if a substitute is definitely needed for her class tomorrow.”

“Okay, Diane. Thanks a lot.” Celeste disconnected the call with Diane and dialed Portia's number at work.

“Chevrolet on Pulaski, Portia speaking,” she answered.

“Ginger didn't go to work today,” Celeste stated.

“What do you mean she didn't go to work? The kids are taking their tests this week, aren't they? She has to be there.”

“I just spoke with Diane, Portia. Ron called and told her that Ginger is sick and it's possible that she'll need the whole week off.”

Portia's voice rose. “The whole week?”

“Yep. I woke up this morning with Ginger heavy on my heart. And to find out that she didn't go to work today bothers me,” Celeste said.

“Yeah, and the fact that Ron called in sick for her bothers
me.
”

“I'm thinking about taking the rest of the day off and going to her house. Can you get away?”

“Yeah, it should be no problem. Business is slow. Did you drive today?” Portia asked.

“No. Tony drove me this morning.”

“Okay. I've got to type up two bills of sale before I leave,” Portia said. “I'll call you when I'm on my way to get you.”

* * *

An hour later Portia pulled into Ginger's driveway. She and Celeste got out of the car and walked to the front door. Portia rang the doorbell and looked at Celeste. “What if Ron answers?”

“Who the heck cares if he answers? We just wanna know why Ginger isn't at work and why she may need the whole week off. And if Ron knows what's good for his ugly behind, he won't piss me off.

“Maybe we should've called first, Celeste.”

“Why? So she can lie to us and say she has an upset stomach? We both know better than that, Portia.”

No one came to the door so Portia rang the bell again. “You think she's in there?”

Celeste walked to the garage door and stood on her tippy toes to look inside the window. She came back to the front door. “Ron's car is gone but Ginger's is in there.”

Portia called Ginger's home number from her cellular phone. She and Celeste could hear the telephone in the living room ringing. After the fourth ring, Ginger's answering machine picked up. Portia disconnected the call and dialed Ginger's cellular number. Her call was immediately sent to Ginger's voicemail.

“Her cell phone is not on, Celeste. I'm starting to get nervous because something isn't right.”

Celeste took Portia's cellular phone from her hand and dialed Ginger's home number again. After the greeting, Celeste talked to the answering machine. “Ginger, it's me and Portia. We're outside on the porch. Can you please open the door? We're not leaving until you do. We saw your car in the garage, Ginger. We know you're in there.” Celeste disconnected the call, gave Portia her phone, and rang Ginger's bell profusely.

Ginger slowly opened the door. Portia and Celeste saw her face and both of their mouths fell open.

Ginger lay on her living room sofa in excruciating pain. Celeste held a Ziploc bag filled with ice cubes against her black, swollen, and completely closed left eye while, at the same time, Portia pressed ice cubes against Ginger's bruised ribs where Ronald had kicked her. They listened as Ginger told them what happened the night before.

A single tear dripped from Portia's eye as she tended to her best friend. “Ginger, why do you continue to let this happen?”

The pressure they applied to Ginger's broken body was extremely painful. Each time Celeste or Portia touched her, she winced and moaned. Her upper lip was swollen and bloody. “It was my fault, Portia. I should've known better.”

Portia looked at Celeste's face because she knew the crap was getting ready to hit the fan.

Celeste snatched the bag of ice from Ginger's face and frowned. She shouted, “What the heck did you just say, Ginger?”

Portia grabbed Celeste's hand. “Celeste, please calm down.”

Celeste snatched her hand away and glared at Portia. “You don't tell me to calm down. I wanna know why she feels that this is her fault.” Celeste looked at Ginger's swollen eye, the Band-Aid above her right cheek, and the bruise on the side of her stomach that represented possible broken ribs. “How is this your fault, Ginger, and what happened to your jaw?”

“While Ron was rolling my face in the peaches on the counter, the lid from the can sliced my face. But had I made sure the peaches were in heavy syrup, this never would've happened.”

Celeste dropped the bag of ice on the floor and sat down on one of the chaise chairs. “I don't believe this.”

Ginger painfully sat up. “Celeste, I need you to understand.”

Celeste glared at Ginger. “Understand what? How stupid you are?”

Ginger was offended. “So, I'm stupid now?”

Celeste gave a sarcastic chuckle. She shrugged her shoulders. “You must be.”

“I'm just trying to get you to understand my situation.”

Celeste held up her right hand to silence Ginger. “You know what, Ginger? For the sake of our friendship, I suggest you not say that to me again because I will never understand why you continue to let a man, who ain't even your husband, live in your house and treat you like you're worthless.”

Portia knelt in front of Ginger and looked deep into her eyes. “Honey, Ronald has brainwashed you. He's got you making sure that there's no toothpaste left in the sink after you brush your teeth. He makes you iron his drawers. Now, who do you know irons drawers, Ginger? Do you remember the time he knocked your tooth out because you forgot to raise the toilet seat after you used the bathroom? Don't you think that's extreme? Your toilet seat, Ginger. The one that's in your house, in your bathroom, has to stay up at all times.”

“And do you remember getting up in the middle of the night to pee and you fell down in the toilet and cracked your funny bone when your elbow hit the wall?” Celeste asked Ginger. “That fool wouldn't even get up to take you to the emergency room. Me and Tony had to get out of our beds at three in the morning.”

Tears were running down Ginger's face. “I know Celeste, but—”

“But nothing, let me finish. Ever since you've been with Ron your life has been a living hell. You lost a baby at the hands of that creep. Your nose has been fractured. He dragged you through the house by your hair. He snatched an earring out of your ear. Who took you to the hospital and sat in the waiting room while your ear was sewn together? Me and Portia, that's who.

“Today, you have a black eye, a busted lip, a cut on your face that may leave a permanent scar, and your ribs may be broken. So, I want you to look me in the eye and tell me why you feel the need to stay with this man.”

The words were effortless for Ginger to say: “Because I love him.”

Celeste jumped to her feet and screamed, “Oh my God. You're so freakin' stupid. You know what? I've heard enough. I'm out of here.” Celeste looked around the living room for her purse.

Portia ran to Celeste to keep her from walking out of the front door. “Celeste, please don't go. She needs us.”

“No, Portia. What she needs is a freaking psychiatrist.”

Ginger slowly stood while holding her side. Her entire body felt as if she had been hit by a bus. “If she wants to leave, Portia, let her leave. I don't need her here.”

Celeste rushed to Ginger and stood in her face. She spat her words out. “I came because I was worried about you. You dumb broad.”

“You don't need to worry about me!” Ginger screamed. “I'm three times seven plus six. That means I'm grown, fully grown. What you need to do, Celeste, is worry about your own life and concentrate on why you can't get pregnant instead of trying to tell me what to do and how to live my life. I got this. Okay? Stay out of my business and focus on your own problem.”

Portia gasped loudly. Her mouth dropped wide open. She and Ginger both knew that was a sensitive subject for Celeste. Portia couldn't believe that Ginger had uttered those words. She came and stood between them. “Okay, you two. Stop it right now.”

It was too late. Ginger opened up Pandora's box and Celeste was fired up and ready to go head to head with her. She ignored Portia and looked at Ginger. “I know you didn't go there, Ginger.”

Ginger wasn't intimidated at all. “Yes, the heck I did. It doesn't take a specialist to tell you why you can't conceive. You know why.” Ginger's neck danced. “We all do.” She looked at Portia. “Don't we?”

Portia didn't answer. Her heart beat at an alarming rate. Her eyes darted back and forth between Celeste and Ginger.

Ginger connected eyes with Celeste. “The only one who doesn't know is Tony.”

Celeste's eyes were the size of golf balls. It seemed as though all of the air had been vacuumed out of Ginger's living room. Celeste struggled to breathe. She literally had to force air into her lungs. Her nostrils swelled with each breath she took.

“Ginger, don't do this,” Portia begged. “You're wrong.”

Celeste placed her open palm on Portia's chest and pushed her back. Then she stepped closer to Ginger. As Celeste spoke to Portia, she looked into Ginger's eyes. “Let her say what she's gotta say.”

Portia stepped between them again. The three of them were sisters. She refused to allow Ginger and Celeste to fight. “Both of you calm down. Ginger, you need to apologize and shut the heck up.”

Ginger became defensive. “Why are you telling me to shut up? And what the heck do I gotta apologize for? I'm sick and tired of her acting like she's Miss High and Mighty. She lives in the biggest glass house and is always the first one to throw a doggone stone.”

Ginger focused on Celeste's eyes while speaking to Portia. “We all know that the abortion she got in Bebe's basement with a coat hanger messed her up.”

That was the straw that broke the camel's back. Celeste pushed Ginger's chest and she fell backward onto the sofa. Ginger grabbed her side and screamed out in pain.

Celeste advanced toward Ginger. “You dirty heifer.”

Portia grabbed Celeste's wrist and pulled her back. “Celeste, stop!”

She snatched her hand from Portia's grip and looked at Ginger with tears in her eyes. “I thought you were my girl. The three of us swore, in high school, that we'd never mention that.”

Ginger sat on the sofa moaning from the pain in her side.

“She didn't mean it, Celeste. She's going through a lot right now.”

“So is everybody else, Portia!” Celeste snapped. “It's time for you to stop babying and making excuses for her grown behind.” Celeste took it a step further with Portia. “And if you weren't so busy screwing everybody's husband, maybe we could get Ginger the help she needs. And why can't you find your own man instead of breaking up happy homes?”

Portia was stunned. Why did Celeste turn on her? Portia felt that since she wasn't sleeping with Anthony then Celeste should have nothing to say about the way Portia lived her life. “Let me tell you something, Celeste. This ain't about me. And what I do is my business, not yours.”

“It is my business because I know I can't trust you around my man.”

Ginger stood up holding her side. Things were getting out of hand. She, Portia, and Celeste were as close as sisters could be. Even though Portia enjoyed keeping company with married men, Ginger felt that Celeste's comment to Portia was out of order. Portia loved both Celeste and Anthony. Ginger knew that Portia would never betray Celeste that way. “Okay, y'all. That's enough.”

Portia snapped her head at Ginger. “You sit your crippled behind back down. All of this is your fault.”

“How is this my fault?” Ginger asked. “I didn't call y'all over here. You just showed up, uninvited, like you always do. I have to constantly tell you and Celeste to stay out of my business. Every time I look up, you're running over here trying to break down my door. I can handle my own problems and I suggest the two of you do the same. We all have issues. I ain't the only one. Humph, looks to me like we're all damsels in distress.”

Celeste looked at Ginger. “Well, you know what, damsel? You ain't even gotta worry about me coming to your rescue ever again. Both you and Portia can kiss my behind.” Celeste found her purse on the cocktail table. She snatched it up and stormed toward the living room door.

Ginger was closely on Celeste's heels. “How about you and Portia get the heck out of my house? And y'all can kiss my behind on the way out.” Ginger needed them to leave before Ronald returned home. She didn't know where he had gone that morning. He told Ginger that he was going to make a run. That usually meant that he had gone to purchase drugs. If that was the case, Ginger knew he wouldn't be gone much longer. Portia and Celeste had to leave so that she could straighten the living room to make it look as though no one had entered it.

Portia grabbed her purse and keys from the chaise chair she had sat on. She got to the door and swung it open then turned to look at Ginger. “I guess the next time that I see you will be at your funeral.”

“Get out of my house, Portia,” Ginger cried out.

Portia looked at Celeste. “I haven't forgotten about your birthday next week. I'll send you a Cabbage Patch doll. That's the closest you'll ever get to having a real baby.”

Portia tried to close the door behind her but Celeste caught it, swung it back open and yelled after her, “At least I got my husband to lean on. Whose husband will be in your bed tonight?”

“Could be yours,” Portia yelled over her shoulder as she walked down Ginger's driveway. She got in her car and sped away.

Before Celeste left Ginger's house, she turned to look at her. “You are not my sister. You're dead to me. You hear me? You're dead to me.” Celeste stormed out and slammed the door behind her.

Ginger's world fell apart. She, Celeste, and Portia had had some major disputes in the past. But Ginger knew that time was so very different. Words were spoken that had never been spoken before. Words that were off-limits, taboo, and forbidden. Their bond had been broken. That day their friendship had been tested and failed. Their sisterhood had become nonexistent. After the showdown that had just happened, Ginger knew that it would take an act of God to bring her, Portia, and Celeste back together again.

She locked the front door and hobbled over to the living room window and pulled the curtain back. Portia was long gone but Ginger saw Celeste walking down the street. Tears flowed down Ginger's cheeks.

She went into the bathroom to wash her face. In the vanity mirror, she looked at her eye and the bandage that covered the cut on her jaw. Her enlarged bloody lips resembled Marge Simpson's. Ginger placed her face in her hands and cried. She was trapped in a situation that she desperately needed to get out of. But how could she do it without the help and support of her girls? Ginger knew that, no matter what, she had Jesus, and that's who she called on. “My Lord, please help me.”

* * *

Portia drove around the corner and pulled over to the curb. She put the gear in park. She had just fought with her two best friends and she needed a minute to compose herself. Portia felt that fight was one hundred times worse than the fights that she, Celeste, and Ginger had had before. Portia couldn't get over the words the three of them had used to purposely harm each other. Portia knew that Ginger's bruises would eventually heal but the words spoken in hatred, among the three of them, would follow her to her grave. They would be with her forever.

Her cellular phone rang and Portia looked at the caller ID:
GREGORY LAWSON
555-2174.

His wife must have a headache.
It was time for Portia to perform her wifely duties without the benefits of being a wife. Portia didn't live in a five-bedroom house surrounded by a white picket fence like Gregory's wife did. Portia didn't have access to Gregory's bank account like his wife did. But he did offer Portia half of her rent and utilities as long as she was available for sex whenever he demanded. The first of May was approaching and rent was due. Portia had no choice but to return Gregory's call and oblige him.

At that moment she realized that she couldn't call on Celeste or Ginger to discuss how her life had turned out that way. Portia couldn't lean on them to talk her out of doing what she knew was the wrong thing to do. Her friends had become her enemies. But Portia knew there was one person who would never turn His back on her.

She placed her face in her hands and cried out to Him. “My Lord, please help me.”