Doin' Me (17 page)

Monday morning Reyna literally stumbled into the real estate office two hours late, reeking of alcohol and discombobulated.

Her seventy-two-hour sabbatical from the world officially ended when her alarm sounded this morning; however, it took her another hour to get up and crawl from the bed to the bathroom, where she spent thirty minutes slouched over the toilet bowl. By the time she reached the bus stop, the express commuter line service had ended. The trip took twice as long and tested how much mental control she had over her body. Every bump teased her bladder, and her mouth filled with saliva from trying to hold back vomit. The second her feet hit the concrete, the volcano erupted and spilled on her jacket.

“I can't blame this on cramps,” she said with a laugh and staggered toward the real estate office.

She avoided the stares with dark glasses, but she heard the murmuring. She didn't care; her main focus was on concocting a lie convincing enough to prevent Paige from firing her. Once at her workstation, she removed her jacket, but she didn't have a chance to sit down.

“Oh, my God! Reyna, what happened to you?” Paige stood in the entranceway, fanning her nose. “What's that smell?”

Reyna rolled her eyes. “I can't smell that bad,” she slurred. “I didn't have time to shower, but I took a ‘ho' bath. You know, washed up at the sink,” she added when Paige's face contorted.

“Reyna, you're drunk,” Paige declared.

“No, I'm not,” she said in her defense. “I haven't had a drink in at least three or four hours. I'm perfectly sober.”

“Really?” Paige folded her arms. “Then where are your clothes?”

“What do you mean? I may not dress like you, but . . .” The words evaporated when Reyna examined her attire.

In her hangover state, she'd forgotten to put on her dress. She'd traveled to work in a slip, a jacket, and four-inch heels. She'd also neglected to comb her hair.

Reyna couldn't think of one lie good enough to justify her actions and appearance, but she needed this job. It was all she had left, the one bright spot in her life.

“Please don't fire me,” she begged. “I had a rough weekend. This will never happen again, I promise. Please, I need this job.” Unrehearsed tears rolled down her cheeks.

“Put your jacket back on,” Paige ordered in a tone that sent chills down Reyna's bare arms.

Reyna did as she was told.

“Come with me to my office.”

Reyna followed behind Paige, just slightly more stable than when she'd arrived.

“Sit down.” Paige told her after they entered her office, and closed the door behind them. “Who would you like for me to call to come pick you up?”

“Are you firing me?” Reyna had to know. “Please give me another chance. I don't have anything left.”

Paige walked around and sat at her desk. “If you force me to answer that question now, it won't be good for you. What I am going to do is give you the remainder of the week off without pay.”

Reyna gasped; she needed the money. “Please—”

Paige raised an eyebrow. “That's the best I can do. Now, who would you like for me to call?”

There wasn't anyone Reyna could think of to call that she hadn't alienated. She was still on good terms with Kevin but hadn't spoken to him in months and hadn't bothered to congratulate him on the birth of his son. Besides, she couldn't let him know she was an alcoholic after she dogged Marlissa for being one years ago. She didn't know Mother Scott's or First Lady Drake's phone numbers. There was only one person to call.

“My mother, Jewel Mills,” she answered, then buried her face in the palms of her hands and wept.

 

 

The lies Reyna concocted to tell Jewel while waiting in Paige's office were for naught. After Paige escorted her out the back door, Reyna hopped into her mother's car, prepared to justify her behavior. To her surprise, the only question Jewel asked involved directions to Reyna's house, which she refused to give.

“Take me home. I mean, to your house.”

Reyna didn't want to go to her childhood home but couldn't risk her mother running into Peyton and his addicted friend. She hadn't seen him since the fiasco two days ago, but that didn't mean he hadn't been back. She'd slept with her bedroom door locked. His deadline to move out wasn't until tomorrow, so there was a good chance he'd be lurking around.

“No problem,” Jewel responded. “You still have some clothes in your old room.”

Reyna thought she saw a slight smile crease Jewel's face, but too emotionally spent, she brushed it off. If Jewel had grand ideas of a reunion, she was sadly mistaken. She just needed time to sleep off the high, and then she'd be gone.

When Jewel started singing along with the choir on the gospel radio station, Reyna reclined the seat and closed her eyes. The late Walter Hawkins and the southern mass choir were encouraging an old soldier to hold on. The old lyrics mirrored her present life. She was beyond discouraged, and her heart constantly ached, but unlike in the song, she didn't have anything or anyone to hold on to.

Jewel barely had turned off the ignition when Reyna jumped out of the car and ran to the front door. Then she had to wait for her mother. She'd forgotten she no longer possessed a key.

“After you get cleaned up, I'll make you some breakfast,” Jewel offered once they were inside.

Reyna shook her head. “Maybe later. I just want to sleep.” She postured for an argument, but Jewel didn't give her one.

“Okay. Well, you know where everything is.”

Reyna made the trek to her old bedroom with unexpected anticipation. Although she enjoyed the comforts of a king-sized bed on a nightly basis, her old full-size mattress promised her the peaceful rest her body desperately needed.

She stepped inside and exhaled. Her room was exactly as she'd left it six months ago. She threw her jacket on the floor, slipped off the heels, and let the slip pool at her feet. She paused to feel the rough carpet between her toes before trotting off to the shower. The hot beads soothed her tired muscles but failed to wash her problems away. Later, after slipping on a T-shirt and leggings, Reyna drifted off to sleep, humming the beat to the song she'd heard in the car.

“It's good to see you back among the living,” Jewel said when Reyna walked into the kitchen the next morning.

“You should have woken me up. I can't sleep my life away,” Reyna grumbled, although she felt rejuvenated after sleeping twenty hours straight.

“No, baby, you needed the rest.” Jewel set the coffee cup down. “You look good. Let me fix breakfast. I bet you're starving.”

“I can eat a horse,” Reyna said, chuckling, then poured a glass of apple juice. She observed her mother moving around the kitchen and noticed something was missing. “Where's Pastor Jennings?” The two usually had coffee together after morning meditation.

Jewel stopped mixing flour and eggs and faced Reyna. “I told her not to come today. You're my daughter, and it's time I started taking care of you.”

“It's a little late for that, don't you think?” Reyna snickered, although the words touched her. “I can take care of myself.”

“Apparently not,” Jewel smarted back and then smiled. “It's never too late to change. We've all made mistakes, but with God's help, our mistakes can turn into ministry.”

She watched her mother spray the griddle and flip bacon and wondered if it was all so simple. What ministry could possibly come out of her mistakes? Not that she wanted to jump back on the Jesus train. She'd created her mess, and she'd clean it up somehow.

“Today it's just me and you,” her mother continued with her back to Reyna. “But Tyson will be back this afternoon, after court.”

Reyna choked on the apple juice. “Tyson's coming here? What do you mean, back?”

Jewel casually patted her back and continued cooking. “He stopped by to check on you last night, along with them pushy prayer warriors from his church. Kevin and Marlissa were here too. We all stood around your bed and prayed over you. I'm surprised all that noise didn't wake you up.”

“You told them what happened? I'll never live this down. Thanks a lot, Jewel,” Reyna sneered. “At least now I know why my head felt oily this morning.”

“That's enough,” Jewel declared, then paused. “Reyna, they love you. I love you. We all only want what's best for you.”

“Whatever.” Reyna waved away the concern. “How could you let him see me like this? Was his girlfriend with him?”

Jewel flipped the pancakes and poured eggs into a skillet. “I assume you're talking about Tyson. No. He stayed late into the night and didn't mention a girlfriend to me.”

Relief washed over her. Tyson had seen her bruised and battered before, but she'd never live down the humiliation if Miss Knockout witnessed her drunken stupor.

“Baby, sit down and eat. Then you can go back to bed if you like.” Jewel placed a plate containing four hot pancakes, four bacon strips, and three scrambled eggs in front of her. “Go on and eat. I already blessed the food, since I knew you wouldn't,” Jewel said, sitting back down.

Reyna ate in silence, except for an occasional moan of pleasure. Her mother had many faults, but she made the best pancakes. She closed her eyes and licked her lips. “These are so good.”

“I'm glad I can do something you like. Stop by my room for a minute when you're done.” Jewel's voice broke, and she left the kitchen.

In no hurry to spend quality time with her mother, Reyna cleaned her plate at a snail's pace. After washing the breakfast dishes, Reyna searched the medicine cabinets for cough medicine or prescription drugs, just in case her mother dropped another bombshell. Unfortunately for her, the strongest medicine Jewel stocked was Imodium A-D.

Reyna found her mother sitting Indian-style on her bed, looking through old photo albums, which she didn't recognize.

Jewel patted the space next to her. “Come in and have a seat. I want to show you something.”

“Great, another history lesson,” she mumbled before entering the cluttered room and sitting on the bed. “What's that?” she said, showing interest.

“These are pictures of a much younger me,” Jewel responded without looking up. “I thought I was hot stuff back in the day.” She turned the album so her daughter could see.

“Hot? You were flaming!” Reyna hollered. “I can't believe you wore miniskirts and makeup.” Reyna grabbed the album and turned the page. She pointed to a picture of a much younger Jewel and Rosalie Jennings. “Is that a bustier?” Reyna studied her mother's image more closely. “And a tattoo? You have a tattoo?” The idea that her holier-than-thou mother got tatted up seemed absurd. “I don't believe it.”

Jewel unhooked the top button on her blouse. “Want to see? It hangs a lot lower than it used to, but the rose is still there.”

“That's okay. I'll take your word for it.” Viewing her mother's wrinkled breast to prove a point didn't appeal to her. She continued turning pages. “Oh my,” she gasped. “I've seen it all.” Reyna pointed to a picture of Jewel in lingerie, hanging from a pole. Her eyes pierced her mother, as she waited for an explanation.

“I told you, I ran buck wild after I left my daddy's house. It was all about me, and I did everything I wanted to do,” Jewel explained. “I drank and smoked reefers too. I did anything to be accepted and loved—”

“I don't understand,” Reyna interrupted. It didn't make sense to her. “You came from a stable family. Why were you looking for love?”

Jewel reached for a tissue from the nightstand. “My family was stable, and both Mom and Dad loved us, but they weren't good at expressing it. Daddy always complained about the things I did wrong, but never encouraged or validated me when I did well. My father didn't tell me he loved me until cancer had nearly eaten him up. I grew up thinking something was wrong with me. When I left home, I went on a quest to find the love I'd missed.”

Reyna didn't have the strength to stop the tears that rolled down her cheeks. She let them fall and gather at the base of her chin before accepting the tissue Jewel offered.

Jewel cupped her daughter's face and held eye contact and pleaded, “Let me help you, baby. I don't know exactly what you're involved in, but I know you're in over your head. I sheltered you, and you are no match for the enemy, especially with the grudge you have against God. The enemy is dragging you down, and he's not going to stop until he completely destroys you. Please talk to me. The woman I picked up yesterday is not the beautiful woman I gave birth to. You are so much more than a drunk.”

Reyna's steady breaths turned into gasps as sobs obstructed her air supply. Breaking down in front of the woman she'd conditioned herself to hate was the last thing she wanted to do, but Jewel had transformed into what Reyna desperately needed: a mother who knew her child. Her mouth moved, but the words lodged in her throat.

“It's all right, baby,” Jewel coaxed. “You can tell me. I promise I won't judge you.”

Reyna didn't know if she could trust her mother or not, but her burdens had become unbearable. Even if Jewel wasn't sincere, at least Reyna wouldn't be carrying the load in silence.

She collapsed against Jewel's shoulder and poured out the story of the past six months of her life, including the night she lost her virginity. She revealed everything: the physical and verbal abuse, chopping her car, and the seduction scene two nights ago. The details of Peyton's courting and how his subsequent drug use led her to drinking were the most embarrassing, but how she allowed him to destroy Tyson's property hurt the most. She put it all out there, even admitting that she actually cared about Tyson but had pushed him away.

Jewel held her and listened without interruption, wiping away her own tears and interceding in prayer for her daughter.

“My life is a mess, and I'm about to lose my job. I can't make things right with Tyson if I don't have a job.”

The tears continued to fall, but Reyna's spirit felt lighter now that she had admitted the truth.

“Where is Peyton now? Is he still living with you?”

Reyna's head bobbed against her chest. “He's moving out today.”

“Well, that's one less thing to worry about.”

With her emotions empty, for the first time ever that she could recall, Reyna fell asleep in her mother's arms.