Soulful Strut (33 page)

“I can start, Mrs. Issom,” he said to the
chairwoman.

When she nodded, he asked a series of
questions about Monette’s background. Then they asked about her
present life. Seemed easy enough, but Monette knew better than to
let that fool her. Tougher questions were sure to follow. Three
other board members joined. Monette answered each one honestly, not
holding back. Finally they asked her about the arrest that had led
to her prison sentence. Monette told them the entire story—how
she’d been a party girl who’d had an affair with the district
attorney. Ending that affair had infuriated him enough to frame her
for a crime she hadn’t committed. As she spoke, Monette paid
attention to the one board member who stayed silent, a white woman
with neatly styled blonde hair. The woman frowned when Monette said
Winn Barron’s name. Her thin mouth pursed, and she made notes, only
glancing up on occasion.

“Mrs. Lockwood?” The chairperson looked at
the silent woman.

“I think we’re all familiar with the
notoriety of this case. However, the FBI refused to investigate,
because if there had been a federal crime committed, the statute of
limitations had run out. There is no direct evidence that confirms
your story.” Mrs. Lockwood put down her ink pen.

“I was hoping Mr. Barron would confess, but
somehow I don’t think that’s gonna happen,” Monette said. There was
a collective gasp from a group behind them. When Lucy kicked her
beneath the table, Monette shot her a heated sideways glance.
Before she faced the board again, Monette saw Winn staring at her.
She lifted her head and turned away.

The board members fidgeted nervously. Some
wore expressions that implied they wanted to be anywhere but in the
hearing room. A wave of murmuring rose from the audience.

“This is a serious matter,” the chairperson
warned. “I’ll clear the room if I have to.”

“So, Ms. Victor, your behavior in no way
played a part in your conviction?” Mrs. Lockwood raised her voice
as though to emphasize what she already thought. The other board
members seemed to lean forward in anticipation.

Lucy cleared her throat to get Monette’s
attention. When Monette glanced at her, she saw a sheet of paper
with one word: Careful.

Monette had grown sick of apologizing only to
get kicked down again. “If you’re asking if I’ve made a lot of
mistakes in my life, the answer is yes. Going to prison is bad
enough. Sitting in prison for something you didn’t do is a form of
hell I wouldn’t wish on anybody, including the people responsible
for sending me there. You may disapprove of the way I’ve lived my
life. Sure, I could have done a lot better. But I did not commit
those crimes and that’s why I should be pardoned.”

The chairperson raised a hand to forestall
another comment by Mrs. Lockwood. “Thank you, Ms. Victor. Your
answers have been very informative.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” With that Monette stood
up and walked out of the hearing room. The chairperson invited
others to speak, but Monette kept going.

Jim came through the large double doors
before they whisked shut. “Barron is going to speak now. You want
to hear what—”

“I know what he’s going to say. He’s going to
say my story was made up. He’s going to remind them of my record of
misdeeds as proof that I’m a liar.” Monette took in a deep breath
and let it out. Then she faced Jim. “See, he’s got money and the
family name. Nothing I say can take that. He’ll do and say whatever
it takes to restore his reputation.”

“I agree,” Jim said and put an arm around her
shoulder. “But I’m going to tell them the truth. Remember, we got a
whole lot of people to listen before.”

Monette straightened her blouse and stood
with her shoulders back. “He’s done his worst to me. What he
doesn’t know is I’m not done with him yet.”

“Exactly. Show him this fight isn’t over.”
Jim gestured for her to walk ahead of him back into the hearing
room.

With a nod, Monette braced her nerves to hear
Winn’s cultured Southern voice spinning a web of treachery. When
she entered, Winn had his hand over the microphone as he whispered
to his attorney. Monette and Jim exchanged a glance.

“Ahem, those allegations have never been
prosecuted, much less proven, Madam Chair,” Winn said smoothly.
Still, beads of perspiration made his forehead shine under the
fluorescent lights in the ceiling. Fine lines etched into his skin
made him appear older than his fifty-seven years.

“Precisely. There is an old joke that says
there are no guilty people in prison. According to the inmates, of
course,” Mrs. Lockwood said.

“Ms. Victor was convicted by a jury, twelve
levelheaded citizens of Pointe Coupee Parish. They considered the
evidence. Nothing said by Ms. Victor, her attorneys with The
Justice Project, or the media has proven that their verdict should
be voided. Neither should this board. Thank you.” Winn stood and
left with David Harris. Several reporters scurried after them.

“Thank you. We’ll consider all the
information and notify Ms. Victor of our decision,” the chairperson
said.

Once they were in the hallway, Jim pushed a
path through a crowd of reporters all talking at once. Monette put
on her sunglasses. For the first time in years she did not want to
play to cameras or answer questions. All she could think of was
getting far away from Winn Barron. Lucy stayed close by her. While
Jim stayed behind to give comments, Lucy and Monette went to her
car.

“Good job.” Lucy hit the remote on her key
ring, and the Honda’s horn beeped as Jim approached.

“About as good as I could do. I was hoping
they would make up their minds today.” Monette clenched her teeth
in frustration.

“Not unusual, so don’t take that as a sign,”
Jim said. “I know what you’re thinking.”

“Seems like Winn is one stupid mistake that
will haunt me more than any of the others.” Monette started walking
again to work off her building anger.

“His reach isn’t that long anymore. Like Jim
said, Barron’s fall from grace pretty much finished his influence.”
Lucy did her best to sound reassuring.

“Yeah. Well, I’ve been through a lot more
with that man than either of you. His family name and money mean a
lot.” Monette made her best effort to cast off bitterness. She had
to keep moving forward and stop looking back. “Whatever. No matter
what, I’m rewriting my script.”

“That’s the spirit. You are going to hear
good news. Okay?” Jim smiled at Monette.

“If you say so.” Monette put on a happy face
in an effort to think positively.

“Stop looking for reasons to feel sorry for
yourself.” Jim pointed at her. “Now go back to fighting for truth
and justice.”

“Easy for you to say,” Monette called out.
Jim continued to walk away, merely lifting a hand in response.

“If the big guy says it’s a go, then you
should be planning your party.” Lucy looped an arm through
Monette’s.

“Yeah, well pardon me if I don’t print out
invitations just yet,” Monette tossed back. She gave a weak half
smile when Lucy groaned at her bad pun. Despite the ordeal of
seeing Winn, Monette’s steps were lighter going out of the building
than they had been when she had entered. Just getting through the
hearing lifted a heavy weight from her back, yet the sick feeling
in her belly would probably not go away for days.

Chapter 17

Two days later Monette sat next to Jayson in
his apartment sharing a huge bowl of popcorn. His section of the
sofa had a built-in footrest, which was extended. Monette worked on
her book while Jayson watched a baseball game between the New York
Yankees and the Texas Rangers. When the Yankees got a run, Jayson
clapped his hands loud enough to make Monette jump.

“That’s what I’m talkin’ about.” Jayson
hooted and gulped down Barq’s root beer to celebrate.

“Traitor. You’re rooting for them damn
Yankees against a Southern team.” Monette shook her head. “Humph.
Where’s the loyalty?”

“I’m a Yankees fan. End of discussion. Since
when did you care about Southern solidarity or sports?” Jayson
threw a piece of popcorn at her.

“I’m for the underdog every time. You should
know that about me by now.” Monette put aside her AlphaSmart. “Is
the game almost over?”

Jayson hit the mute button. “We gonna finally
talk about the Pardon Board hearing? Cause I’m ready to
listen.”

“I’m trying not to obsess about it. Look at
the game and I’ll work on this next book outline. Just a relaxing,
normal Saturday afternoon.” Monette picked up the word processor
again and tapped the keyboard.

“Like an old married couple.” Jayson took one
of her hands and squeezed it. Monette’s heart thumped at the look
in his eyes. She decided to tease her way out of a serious moment
that she wasn’t ready for yet. “I’m mature, well preserved and on
the good side of being middle-aged. I’m not old.”

“Yes, ma’am. At least you didn’t object to
the couple part.” Jayson moved the bowl to the table and snuggled
against Monette’s shoulder as she typed.

“Couple of what is the question. Careful you
don’t miss your precious team getting beaten.” Monette nodded
toward the big-screen television.

“I can watch replays. Besides, I’ve accepted
the inevitable. So, your lawyer thinks the hearing went well.
That’s a good thing.” Jayson took another stab at discussing the
hearing.

She did not want to talk about the hearing or
Winn. Not with Jayson. Monette hit the mute button, but not before
the roar of the crowd bounced from the television speakers. “Yeah,
well it ain’t over til it’s over, as the saying goes. Whoa, the
Yanks are making a comeback.”

“What?” Jayson forgot to probe. He
transferred his attention back to the game, but a commercial came
on. “Damn it”

“Told ya. The replay won’t be as
exciting.”

Jayson fingered the bottle of root beer in
his hands. He studied the screen as a leggy model tried to sell
beer. “You keep shutting me out. I don’t like that, Monette.”

“Don’t talk crazy. We’re together every
weekend if you’re not working. I’m even going to spend my first
overnight stay with you instead of my family. Not that it’s a big
sacrifice. But still.” Monette kept her tone light in hopes of
downplaying the subject.

“You can talk to me about that part of your
life, Monette. I wanna feel closer to you than thousands of people
reading your book.” Jayson covered her fingers as she tried to keep
typing.

“I don’t know why you’re trippin’, man.”
Monette slapped at his hands gently.

“Fine.” Jayson pulled away to sit on his side
of the sofa again. He took the bowl of popcorn from the coffee
table and put it back between them on the sofa. Then he stuffed a
fistful into his mouth.

“I’m not trying to push you away.” Monette
glanced at him. His tight expression did not loosen.

“Um-hum,” was his terse reply around a
mouthful of popcorn.

“Between the book, reporters and the hearing,
talking about my past is wearing thin. I’m just trying to get on
with making something good out of these last years I got on earth.
I’m no kid, ya know.” Monette hit his bulging bicep with her fist.
“Hey, that’s the part where you tell me I’m still young and I still
look hot.”

“You’re young and you still look hot. Happy?”
Jayson sat with his arms crossed as he stared at the television
screen.

Monette let a few minutes tick by. She
debated getting her own attitude, but that would only make things
worse. “Look, Jayson. Please don’t think I want to shut you out.
Some of the stuff that came out ain’t so pretty. There’s a lot I
didn’t put in my book.”

Jayson let his arms fall, and he took his
feet from the coffee table. “You’re afraid if I know more then
maybe I’ll walk away.”

“Your life has been like one of those
old-time family shows—a tough but loving father, sweet mother who
stopped teaching to raise the kids, church on Sunday, family
picnics in the park.” Monette shook her head slowly. “Let’s just
say mine hasn’t been any of those things.”“Neither one of us picked
the families we were born into. Do you believe I care about you?”
Jayson turned around to face her.

“Sure.” Monette grabbed an extra cushion from
the sofa and twisted one end of it “I hear a ‘but’ in your voice,”
Jayson said quietly. “Okay, now’s the time to say it I love
you.”

“Oh, God.”

She had longed to hear those words said with
the right tone, the right inflection. Jayson had just made a dream
come true. So why wasn’t she melting into his arms? Monette put
both hands over her face.

“That wasn’t the response I was hoping to
get.” Jayson pulled her hands away after a few seconds of gentle
tug- of-war between them.

“Crying is such a mess. My nose gets stuffy;
my eyes turn red and swell.”

Monette let the tears fall. She had no
choice, since Jayson held her hands. When he pulled her against his
shoulder, Monette sobbed into his blue cotton T-shirt. Jayson
combed his long fingers through her hair and rocked Monette like a
child, the way her mother never had, the way no one had ever
comforted her that she could remember.

“It’s okay not to be tough all the time,
honey,” Jayson whispered.

She lost track of how long he was content to
hold her. Jayson smelled so good. The feel of his strong embrace,
combined with the clean scent of his skin, made Monette feel safe.
He didn’t push. All he wanted was to be part of her the way no one
else had been. No family member. No lover. With all the hype about
her tell-all book, Monette had only revealed what she’d wanted to.
Talking about her partying or even her affairs, including the one
with a powerful white politician, had not been hard for her at all.
Jayson had guessed as much. He also knew that what she hadn’t told
was most important. Eventually she stopped crying and started
talking.