Lisa Djahed - Bee Stanis 01- The Foolish Stepmom (8 page)

Chapter Nine

Parent-teacher conference night.
Of course it had to be Monday night. The night after I had spent the night in JAIL and had gotten only a miserable hour and half nap that afternoon. The problem with Parent Teacher conference night was of course, being the non-parent parent. Being a step-parent is an odd thing. You are involved in the kids life, up
to a certain degree, for their daily needs (if you are custodial like us) but you had no rights to the child. In the eyes of the law and in this case, the eyes of the school district, I was a non-being. No rights. No right to say anything, to question curriculum, barely even a name. Ben had to even fight to get me listed on the contact sheet for the school. Ridiculous. And yet, there I am, the one helping with homework, doing those stupid science projects, rushing to Walmart for the right binder and tabs and pencils and paper. Me. The non-being.

Plus there was the possibility
, even remote as it might be, that Countess Von Stinker would show and bluster her way in asking about how her “babies” were doing and soaking up the praise about Yaz and nodding in agreement when Jules’ teachers talked about her indifference. She gets to be the mom in the spotlight and dang if she wasn’t going to take her bow.

I had spent extra time at the mirror trying to hide my baggy eyes and drooping skin. I had worn a power suit just to highlight
the difference between hippy mama and me (in case she showed).

Which
, of course, she did.It was just how this week was turning.

“Hello Doris” I
said using the countess’s formal name. “Hello Elizabeth, Ben”

Ben grunted. He hated these nights almost as much as I did.

And we went in for the first leg of the trip which was to Jules’ English teacher.

“Mr. and Mrs.
Stanis, please sign in,” and that’s when I thought I would lose it, because of course Mr. Egghead teacher didn’t realize our situation and assumed that Doris and Ben were still married and I was some nanny or something- of course it didn’t help that Doris, I mean, Countess Von Stinker, loved this assumption and signed her and Ben in.

“Actually
, Mr. Denis, is it? Elizabeth is my wife, Doris and I are divorced but are all here for Julie.” My Ben, taking care of the awkwardness of the situation.

“I’m so
sorry
”
he said looking confused. Why was it so hard for teachers to get this stuff right, it is not like it is rocket science or that people in this day and age NEVER got divorced, because they did. And that meant a lot of step parents like me getting the shuffle day in and day
out.

“Ple
ase sit down. I’m glad you are all here,” now he was just buttering us up.

“I’m pleased at the progress Julie has made in her writing this
semester, she’s completed most of her assignments, almost always on time, which is better than our first session.”

“But what I’m concerned about
,” he went on, “was can you tell me, has anything happened at home that we should know about?” he was being intentionally vague.

“Well our next door neighbor was murdered recently
, is that
it?”

“Well
, yes, that might explain it. See, this semester I had the
kids keep a diary of sort, it is supposed to be visual and narrative, and as you can see her latest entries are a little grim.” As he laid out a few pages I saw something that horrified me. I had to catch my breath not
to show my discomfort but clearly Ben had seen it too cause he shot me
a “shut up we’ll talk about it later” kind of look. It is amazing to me that so much can be communicated between us without speaking.

The picture
, or diary entry or what have you was a magazine
cut-out of a picture of a bee and drawn over it in thick black marker was an X and it had been gone over several times for emphasis. As if she was blotting out the bee. As if she was blotting out me. I really had no idea she hated me this much. I felt both my heart drop and my pulse accelerate.

L
uckily the entry was not the only thing on the page and luckily both Countess Von Stinker and Mr. Denis had no idea my nickname around the house was “bee”.

Why would Jules hate me that much? What had I ever done to her? It was also slightly scary to be the object of
someone’s else hatred. Never in my life had I pissed off a person as much as I had Jules and Countess Von Stinker. They had both tried, in their own way, to annihilate me from their existence. First Doris with the trying to run me over in the car. And now this. And alls I had done was to fall in love, with the wrong man apparently. At least in their estimation.

I hated to do it
, but there was just no way I could go through
the charade of the next hour visiting teachers that sidelined me so I told Ben to go ahead with the countess and leave me alone, that I needed a few minutes and I’d catch up with them, that I was going out to the car. I went out to the car, got in, turned on the radio, leaned back in the seat and just let the tears fall.

I was crying about not being loved by children I wished loved me. I was crying about not being recognized as a mother even though I felt it or wanted so badly to be one. I was crying about all those years I wasted pursuing a career and education and how it left me with nothing but emptiness in my soul. I was crying for a god who didn’t love me enough to give me the one thing I so desperately needed. I was crying for being a foolish stepmom who thought it was possible to create a happy family. It was a big honking snot filled cry and I had needed it.

The next morning, I skipped my morning ritual. I just couldn’t pretend to be the happy little family where I’d prepare breakfast, complete with the toast, sometimes do eggs, sometimes cereal or oatmeal. And as my finishing touch I’d lay out everyone’s vitamins for the day. I was adamant about vitamins. But not today, call it juvenile or whatever but nothing was going to get me in that kitchen. Ben even came in and checked on me because I was taking too long.

And I just said
, “Sorry babes, I have to be into work early, also, can you pick Jules up for her dance lesson, I can’t today, I have to work late.” He could tell I was upset and rather than the usual protestations took it in stride. I think men did whatever they could to avoid seeing tears, I think water works screwed with their sense of law and order to a degree that they weren’t able to deal. It is not like you can just twist a wrench and turn the valve off, it required talking and lord knows men hated ‘talking.’

So the good news was I had the afternoon free
, I figured a trip to the local discount clothing store would improve my overall opinion of the state of the world and headed there the first chance I could. While sifting through the blouses I heard two now very familiar voices.

“What do you mean
it is missing?”

“I
t is not where I left it.”

It was Pam and Bevin the next aisle over
, in a kind of whisper talk, I could just see Pam’s red hair through the size 14 dresses, ok they were the size 16 dresses but a girl can hope can’t she.

“What do you think of this?” I heard Bev say. And I decided that all this sneaking around and getting caught and DUI’s and nights in jail where just too
much for me. I had hit my breaking point and I wasn’t going ‘sneak’ around anymore, I was going to call a spade a spade and be damned with it. And maybe it was the fuel from my anger at Jules leaking all over but I just didn’t care. Someone was going to get an earful.

“Bev, Pam” I said loudly turning the corner. “I
thought I heard your voices.”

They both looked at each other and seemed a little shocked to see me. Little did they know that I was packing heat, I mean, my anger that is, packing heat just sounded tougher.

“What on earth are you two doing here and doing together, I didn’t realize you were BFF’s,” I said a little too loudly. And I stood there, hand on hip, ready to fire again.

Pam piped up first, “well, we’re not quite BFF’s but Bev needed a ride and I like Ross,” said Pam a little disheveled.

“Hmmm. Isn’t it almost time for visiting hours at the jail, Bev, you should really be on your way to see your son, you know.” It might not sound it, but I was spitting mad and wasn’t going to take any more
bull.

“Well, I don’t have a ride.” Bev said a little snottily, she could tell by my strong tone I was not happy.

“Well, just so happens, I can give you a ride, wanna go, right now, if we leave now we could just make it” I said calling her bluff.

“
Uhm, well, I can’t tonight, I have plans,” she managed to stumble out.

“Well fine, than, tomorrow night, it’s a date, I know where you live so I’ll pick you up at 6, ok?”

“Okay,” is all she managed to get out. And I whipped around and continued to pretend to shop, but was really all inside my head. Why was she so reluctant to see Jesse? What were they talking about before I busted in? Why don’t they want me to know how well they knew each other- because clearly they were more than landlord and tenant.

All of these questions, plus my flush of righteous anger, were
still boiling through me when I hit the household items clearance rack in the back of the store. It was probably not a good idea to do emotional
shopping, but I did. I bought a new shoe rack, $5.99, a new large size candle and candle holder (that I totally did not need) $7.99, a lone top sheet (queen size), $4.99, and a new garbage pail for my bathroom, with a little flip top lid, $9.99. Bargains all around. By the time I left I
was feeling a little more calm and slightly pleased with my little cache of
goodies.

Figuring I was still on strike on the home front, I decided to pick up some
Chinese, it would allow me the most ability to spend the least amount of time with the girls while still getting them fed.

When I walked through the door Ben was there to give me a peck on the mouth and to take my bags. I walked into the kitchen and saw flowers on the dining room table.

“For my honey, the best mom and wife on the planet,” they were from Ben. How sweet. It was hard to stay mad in the face of flowers. But he could buy me a diamond and I still wouldn’t talk to snot nose.

“Thank you honey, these are beautiful.”

Just then little Yaz walked up to me and hugged me. I hugged her back, it was also hard to stay mad at such a fragile little girl who hadn’t done anything wrong. She could tell I was upset about something and just instinctively knew to hug me.

After we had eaten, and Jules even made a few comments
about loving the Chinese (had Ben talked to her I wondered?). Ben and I
settled on to the back porch. We had a lot to catch up on. It is
remarkable how much can happen in a short period and there is so little time to properly process it all.

I had told him first about Taylor’s pregnancy. And then about r
unning into Pam and Bev and my ‘making’ Bev visit Jesse (something Ben wasn’t too happy about, since it meant another trip up to the jail and another afternoon of him with the girls.)

He told me that Drew’s mom had dropped off the keys to Drew’s house and asked us to put chlorine in the pool for them since they were headed home with the boys.

And he told me something about that mysterious bottle of sleeping pills that he hadn’t had time to mention since, you know, I got arrested and since I had my little mini-breakdown. The pills, it was a prescription bottle and the prescription had Drew’s name on it.

“Oh my god, Ben, do you know what that means? That bottle was in RAY’s house. Ray must have done it, or had something to do with it, why would he have Drew’s prescription bottle?”

Ben, being the perfectionist he was, went and got his index cards and we went through each one again, ranking them by level of suspicion and level of motivation. Both Ray and Taylor still scored high, although Ray was scoring the highest. And it occurred to both of us that each day that passed brought the guilt and reality of Drew’s death further and further away from Jesse. Who was in jail for committing a crime he did not commit.

We also talked about not so interesting things like which bills needed paying, how much we’d need to transfer from savings to checking to cover the lawyer bill for my DUI (which pained me, maybe I should have taken that stupid
breathalyzer but my ex-boyfriend lawyer had drilled it into me that you could almost always get the case thrown out if you didn’t take it). We talked about Yaz and Ben started to talk about Jules but I shut him up with a kiss. I didn’t want my relative peace shattered.

And it would have been an almost lovely entirely peaceful night except for what we found sitting in our mailbox the next morning.

Chapter Ten

“If this is some kind of joke from one of your friends, I swear Julie I will strangle them myself.” I was livid. Not only did I have left-over resentment from the x-d out Bee incident but now this.

We had woken up and started our usual morning routine, with yes, me making my little breakfast for my little family. I still wasn’t talking to Jules (and yes, I was being petty, I wasn’t going to give her a vitamin) but I couldn’t ignore or punish Ben and
Yaz, the two warmest people on the planet any more than I had.

And as we opened the door to watch the kids get on the school bus is when we saw it. Twelve or so dead fish, with their throats cut, on and in our mailbox. From far away you could only see that there was something there, but when you got up close you saw them, draped over and stuffed in the mailbox. It was so bizarre and strange and frankly just pissed me off so much I didn’t even think of the more sinister connotations, at least not yet.

“It is not one of my friends, god, why do you ALWAYS blame me, always, ME, Julie the bad kid, I’m surprised you haven’t accused ME of killing Drew.” She yelled and stormed off onto the bus. All the kids at the bus stop had been watching us, they too could see the fish, and laughed and snickered when Julie stormed off.

“Bee, calm down, she’s right, there is no way one of her friends could do this, it’s a message Bee, think about it for a second.” Said Ben in his oh, so practical way.

“We need to call the police.” Ben went inside to get his phone and the non-emergency number for the Palm Bay Police and I went inside to get my digital camera
.
This was vandalism of the worst kind.

What a mess. It was stinky and gross and as I snapped away it finally hit me. And it was creepy.
Very, very creepy. As in ‘sleeps with the fishes’ creepy. Someone indeed was sending us a message.

After the cop had come a
nd filed the report (and asked ‘did we have enemies’) I was late for work, twice in as many days. I’d have to work a little late the next day or two to make up for the time I had lost living my life. Why was it that work, the thing that lets you live your life by paying you, interfered so much in the actual living of your life?

Around 5
p.m. I started to get anxious, in a short little while I’d be spending a significant amount of time in the car with Bev, Jesse’s mom. What would we talk about? Why had I insisted, in my anger, to take
her? It was bound to be uncomfortable and long and awkward. I knew I was doing it for Jess, but also to make a point. You can’t just forget about your kid no matter what they do. Seems like I should be taking some of my own advice, I’d certainly been ignoring Jules hadn’t I? What made what I was doing different? Dang that justifiable anger AND
working conscious, the two just couldn’t live together in the same brain. It reminded me of something Ben’s sister had said to me one time. His whole family was so warm and lovely and fun. They were always laughing, but they also had this particular philosophical way of looking
at the world, maybe it was the old world Russian customs but it had a certain flavor. She said to me once in her accented English, “Elizabeth, if Ben and you want peace in your life” we had been going through a particularly nasty bout with Countess Von Stinker about custody at the time,
“If
you want peace in your life, you must gather it, from all the places you can.” Meaning that you reap what you sow, but said so much more poetically. I was reaping what I was sowing with Jules. I was giving off hatred and getting it back. Dang that conscious. I hated being in the wrong when my justifiable anger felt so dang good to wear and strut around in.

These were my thoughts as I pulled up to Bev’s (and Pam’s) house about 5:55 p.m. (I had a thing about punctuality). I waited in the driveway rather than getting out to see if she’d come out on her own.

When she hadn’t at 6:02 (I know cause I was holding my cell phone), I went up to the door and knocked. And knocked again a few minutes later. And then knocked a third time. By this time it was 6:08 and I decided to go back and sit in my car. Maybe she was running late. There were no cars in the driveway other than mine so Pam wasn’t home either
.
Maybe she went to the store. I decided I would wait til 6:17. When that came and went I decided it was time to let it go. She wasn’t coming. Jesse would not see his mother but I’d also been saved from having to spend a long car ride with her. And at least now I could go home.

When I came in Ben was surprised to see me.

“Hey babes, what happened?” I could smell spaghetti sauce, Ben’s staple dinner, eminating from the stove.

“She never
showed!” “You are kidding, really?”

“Right, I wonder what
happened? Oh well, I’d rather be home
tonight anyhow.”

I decided to “reap what I sowed” and be nice to
Ms.Jules. “Jules, your English teacher the other night said you were doing
good in his class.” And I couldn’t help myself, I threw in, “he even showed us some of your work, it was quite expressive.”

She looked at me, not knowing how to read what I was saying and just shrugged her shoulders. I guess “reap what you sow” only goes one way. So be it. I would have peace in my house no matter how hard
it was to get it.

“Jules I’m sorry I accused you and your friends this morning, that was not fair of me, and I apologize.” I said in my best adult voice.

Still looking at me distrustfully she shrugged and changed the subject, so I assume I was pardoned.

“My dance teacher says I’m almost ready
,” she said in the most animated voice I had heard in a while.

“That’s great Jules, when are tryouts?”

“Next month for the following fall.”

An actual conversation.
Well, blow me to pieces.

After dinner Ben and I settled in for our time together on the back porch just talking and rewinding our days and planning for the next. It was a nice time of day that we both valued, our time together on the porch.

It was getting late when I realized we hadn’t taken care of Drew’s pool and that in fact, I’m not sure anyone had in the week since his death. If you know anything about living in Florida is that pool maintenance was key, one week could turn your pool colossal green in no time flat. I grabbed the key and Ben and I headed over. We went in the back way since it was silly to tramp through the house when you
could just as easily go in the side gate and into the screened-in porch. As
it was we didn’t even put the light on since we could pretty much see what we needed, a scoop here, some skimming of the net there.

Ben was lifting the last scoop of chlorine into the pool when we saw it.
A light. Inside the house. Instinctively we both ducked down and whispered “did you see that?” “Is someone there?”

Ben decided to run around the front of the house and left me to spy through the kitchen window and sliding glass doors but also left me with special instructions to run if someone came outside that wasn’t him. He really did not need to tell me to run, that one I could figure out all on my own, thank you very much.

Keeping to the side wall, so as to not be seen, I could see a shadow in the hallway but couldn’t make out who might be in the house and I was wondering if Ben already had gotten in. And that’s when I heard a series of thuds and heard Ben scream out. Panic raced through me and I ran faster than I thought I could ever run around to the front
of the house, just as I reached the door a figure bounded out of the front door and ran into me, shoving me aside. But getting to Ben was the only thing I could think about and I quickly got up and ran inside, towards the hallway where I thought I heard the thuds. And there he was, my big strong Russian, laying on the floor in an unnatural position.

“Ben, Ben” I said nudging him by the shoulders. I checked for breath and heard and saw his chest going up and down but my head was having such a hard time working. What do you do when the strongest person you know is out cold? I felt his head and there by his left ear was a little trickle of
blood.I gasped and ran next door to call an ambulance, I must have been screaming because both Julie and Yaz saw me as I entered the house, panic on their face. I grabbed the phone and dialed 9-1-1and was muttering and talking fast to the operator to get her there. After giving the address I gave the girls some instructions to calm them down.

“
Yaz go get a pillow, Jules get a towel, come and bring it next door.” And I had said it so authoritatively they both jumped into action. By the time I reached Ben he was moaning. Thank god for moaning I thought. It means he’s conscious.

“Ben, Ben can you hear me? Are you ok?
Baby?” I was nearly crying I was so upset. So much for keeping your cool in the face of crises. The girls showed up and both gasped when they saw their father, I probably should not of had them see this, but the truth was, I needed them there, needed something other than my big strong husband lying prostrate on the floor to focus on. I put the pillow gently under his head and put the towel over and around his neck.

“Daddy, daddy
,” said both girls.

“Girls, touch his legs, touch his legs to let him know we are all
here.”

“Honey, can you hear me?” l said looking down closely at his face.

Just then he moaned loudly and opened his eyes. “What happened?” he said.

“I don’t know honey, I think you were hit, didn’t you see who was in here?”

“No, no” and he mumbled and closed his eyes
.
I heard the sirens and knew the ambulance and fire trucks would be here soon.

“Girls, go wave the firemen and paramedics in here
,” I had mistakenly given our address since I knew it so well and wasn’t exactly sure of Drew’s address, was it two digit is less than ours, I didn’t know and so gave the 9-1-1operator ours for expediency sake.

The paramedics and firemen came in and took care of my husband who was by now awake and not happy to be taken care of. At least he was getting back to normal, I thought. They’d have to take him to the hospital to run some tests, especially since it seemed to be a head injury of some sort.

I had both girls come with us, they were just too upset by the whole thing to stay on their own. Ben and I didn’t like them to be on their own too much anyhow, one of us always tried to be home with them. Sure Julie was 14 but was 14 going on 10 and Yaz was ten going on eleven but in reality was more like an eight year old. Maturity level rarely matches actual age, you just have to look at me for an example of that (I was forty going on 30 at least).

The police followed us to the hospital to get a statement from Ben on what happened. We were certainly getting quite a tour of duty of all the cops in Palm
Bay, this was now our 4th cop in so many days
.
None of them as good as Officer Krumpke, I kept expecting to see him again and was wondering where he was in the midst of all this. Even the policeman that was there commented, “didn’t you just file a report this
morning.” God was that this morning. What a day this had turned into. I
was certainly ready for some serious down time.

Turns out Ben was
just fine. Got a good knock on the noggin, but nothing was broke, he might have a slight concussion but that was it, thank goodness. All of his girls stood around his hospital bed and just poured love and affection on to him, in a way, I knew, he was loving the
attention and we were loving giving it. Sometimes it takes a little bit of a crisis to be thankful for the small family moments you do have.