What Goes Around (9 page)

“Thank you so much for coming in this evening,” Dr. Mitchell greeted Sydney at the door of Better Day Women's Shelter with a tight hug. “I was worried you weren't going to make it.”

“No problem, Dr. Mitchell,” Sydney said as she stepped into the common area of the shelter and took off her lightweight D&G studded leather jacket. “I apologize for being late. There was an accident on Piedmont, and traffic was at a standstill for at least twenty-five minutes.”

“Oh, I hope no one was hurt,” Dr. Mitchell mused as she closed the door.

“Well, from what I could see, no one was being taken away in the ambulance that arrived at the scene,” Sydney said as she hung up her jacket in the closet. She turned and
looked at the slender middle-aged psychologist who served as both on-site therapist and den mother to the shelter residents. “So, where did they decide to hold the meeting—in the rec room or the conference center?”

“I do believe everyone is gathered in the rec room,” Dr. Mitchell answered. “After discussing it with Shirley, we both felt that it was important that the setting be informal enough for all the women to feel comfortable sharing.”

“Good point,” Sydney concurred with a nod as she smoothed her hot-pink DKNY V-neck T-shirt. “I'm really excited about these new weekly roundtables. I think discussing their individual experiences and problem solving with other survivors will really help a lot of the women. After all, no one knows what it really takes to make it out more than a fellow survivor.”

“Exactly. And, you know, the long-term goal is to eventually get women who have come through the shelter and are now successfully independent of their abusive partners to come back and speak as well,” Dr. Mitchell added.

“Oh, that'll be amazing,” Sydney said as she stole a quick glance at her vintage black-faced Movado watch. Jason expected her to be home for their customary good-night call by 8:30
P.M.
If Sydney intended to make that deadline, the meeting needed to get started ASAP. “Did the food arrive okay?”

“The delivery guy just left about ten minutes ago,”
Dr. Mitchell said with a smile as she adjusted her black-and-white textured suit jacket. “He even set up the table, which I thought was so nice. I tell you, everything looks great.”

“Perfect,” Sydney said happily. “I was a little worried because I wasn't here to direct the setup but I'm glad that it all came together.” Dr. Mitchell nodded in response. “So I'll just head down and see if they've started,” Sydney said as she began easing away from Dr. Mitchell.

“Okay, dear. I'll be down just as soon as I finish locking up the admin office. If they haven't already, please tell Shirley I said it's okay to start without me,” she responded with the signature smile that had put many a frazzled and frightened woman at ease when she first arrived at the shelter.

Sydney nodded as she turned and walked down the hall. As she neared the rec room, she could hear the voice of the senior resident assistant asking the ladies to have a seat and prepare to begin. “Ladies, ladies, we have a lot that we want to cover, so let's get started,” Shirley said in her booming voice. Almost immediately, there was the sound of chairs scraping the floor as everyone grabbed a seat. Even though she was barely five feet tall, when Shirley spoke, people listened. Sydney entered the room from the back. She waved to Shirley as she headed up the side aisle toward the front of the room. “First of all, I would like to thank you for coming
out to our first weekly 'Sister Share' meeting,” Shirley greeted the diverse-looking group of women. “As you know or may have figured out by now, Better Day is a temporary living facility for survivors of domestic violence.”

“No, really? 'Cause I just thought we all liked living in a dormitory for grown folks,” responded Rita, a longtime on-and-off-again resident who seemed to have a knack for always finding boyfriends who liked to use her as a punching bag. She and her cohorts exchanged a round of high fives and laughs.

“Okay, enough from the peanut gallery,” Shirley continued with a patient smile. “As I was about to say, the goal of Better Day is to serve as transitional housing where survivors receive the services and support they need to start their lives over. And perhaps the biggest part of that process is the emotional healing. So in addition to one-on-one counseling, we are now offering group sessions where survivors can share their experiences with other women in a safe space. Our hope is that, together, we can help ease the pain and problem-solve new and different ways to avoid going through the drama again.” There was a short round of genuine applause from the ladies. Shirley looked at Sydney. “Now, before we begin tonight's session, I would like to take a moment to thank one of Better Day's favorite volunteers, Sydney Duke. Thanks to Sydney's constant campaigning, Better Day just secured
another
corporate donor. Hence, from now on, Sister Share session dinners will be exclusively provided by our favorite local Kroger.” This time Shirley led the loud round of applause.

Surprised and slightly embarrassed by the mention, Sydney waved away the praise. “Honestly, it's the least I could do,” Sydney stated modestly when the ladies quieted down. “You guys are an amazing group of women, and I just want each and every one of you to see that in yourselves.”

“Hopefully, these gatherings will help with that,” Dr. Mitchell stated from the back of the room when she had finally entered.

“I agree,” Shirley co-signed. “And with that said, do we have any volunteers to, as Rita is so fond of saying, jump things off?” An immediate hush fell over the room as the women started looking every which way, reluctant to be the first one to talk about what landed her in the shelter to begin with. Finally, a hand timidly raised in the back of the room.

“I'll go,” asserted a small voice. All heads turned in time to see Mary, a particularly introverted and almost reclusive petite woman in her late twenties, stand up.

“Why, thank you, Mary,” Dr. Mitchell said approvingly.

Noticeably uncomfortable, Mary cleared her throat for
an extended moment. “Um…I was, um…my boyfriend hit…I was abused by my boyfriend.” Mary struggled momentarily to form the words. “My boyfriend, Shane, physically abused me for five years.” The woman sitting next to Mary reached out to touch her arm sympathetically. “Whenever he got angry, Shane would smack me, twist my arms, shake me, punch, and one time he even kicked me,” she continued as the tears welled up in her eyes. “Shane got angry at least three times a week.”

Sydney struggled to keep her face neutral. Whenever she heard these stories, she was always so shocked. She couldn't imagine anybody, least of all a boyfriend, ever laying his hands on her. She looked down at her watch again.

“But it wasn't always like that. In the beginning, he was the most loving and protective boyfriend a girl like me could ever imagine,” Mary asserted. There were several agreeing grunts and head nods from the girls in the group.

“I know that's right. It always starts out really good,” an older woman from Mississippi named Lucy chimed in.

“Or maybe I just missed the signs,” Mary continued, her voice growing stronger. “The first time, he questioned me about an outfit I was wearing. It was just a regular sundress. But he made it seem so scandalous, the very next day I gave it away to my best friend…I really liked that dress. But I didn't want to upset him.” The women in the
room all nodded in agreement. “Then the paranoia. He was constantly accusing me of trying to play him out. From the very beginning, he was so suspicious. He warned me that if I ever played him out, he would lose his mind.” Mary paused and looked at the women with a wry smile on her face. “I guess I should've believed him, huh?” The room erupted in a chorus of “You ain't neva lied” and “Preach, my sista” catcalls. Looking up from her watch, Sydney softly gasped. Every word Mary said felt like a direct jab to her gut.

“Are you okay?” Shirley leaned over and whispered in her ear with concern. “You look like something just struck a chord.”

Sydney struggled to plaster a smile on her face. “Oh, no, it's, um, I just remembered that I have a geometry exam in the morning. And I totally forgot to study,” she replied, hoping her lie sounded halfway believable to the extra-perceptive mother of three.

“Mmm-hmm, okay, if you say so,” Shirley said with one eyebrow cocked. “Well, then, you probably should get going, huh?”

“Yeah, I should probably go,” Sydney whispered without looking Shirley in the eye. Luckily, the entire room was now so focused on Mary's story that they hardly noticed Sydney creeping along the side of the room toward the back entrance. Just as she closed the door gently behind her and
turned to walk away, the door reopened and Dr. Mitchell stepped out as well.

“Leaving so soon?” she asked. “I was hoping that you might be able to stay and have dinner with the ladies. They always enjoy your company so much.”

“Oh, yeah, I, um, just remembered that I have this test tomorrow,” Sydney repeated her lie. “So I really…I just can't stay…” Sydney twisted her oversized silver hoop earring around and around.

“I see.” Dr. Mitchell nodded her head gently. “Well, let me say thank you again for all your help, it really makes a difference. In a way, you've become a role model to some of these women.”

“I'm hardly a role model,” Sydney muttered as Mary's words rang in her ears.

“Oh, but you are,” Dr. Simmons countered. “Even as old as some of these women are, they look at you, the life you're leading, the healthy relationship choices you make, and they aspire to find that strength within themselves.” Sydney felt sicker by the minute. She prayed her face was doing a better job of behaving normally than her flip-flopping stomach. “But I don't want to keep you,” Dr. Mitchell concluded as she put her hand on Sydney's shoulder. “Thank you again for getting Kroger to donate the dinners; it really makes all the difference. I will see you next Saturday, bright and early?”

“Yes, ma'am,” Sydney squeaked out.

“Get home safely,” Dr. Mitchell offered as she turned back to the door and left Sydney standing frozen in place.

From the other side of Lauren's semiclosed door, Sydney could hear the sound of Mariska Hargitay yelling at someone to freeze before she blew his head away. Sydney raised her hand to knock and then hesitated.
What am I doing,
she thought, miserably. If she went inside and told her sister what was said at the session, not only was she violating the trust of the women, but she was also voluntarily putting her relationship issues with Jason on front street. And Lord knew, Lauren was hardly the person she wanted passing judgment on her when it came to relationships.

Sydney turned to walk away. Halfway down the hall, she heard Lauren's door open. Sydney turned around to see Lauren shuffling out into the hallway. “What's up, Syd,” Lauren greeted as she stopped to scratch her right arm. “When did you get back?”

“Oh, hey, L,” Sydney returned the greeting. “About five minutes ago.”

“Hmm, true,” Lauren said lazily as she turned to look back into her room at what Sydney presumed was a crucial scene in the episode. “I was just chilling out, watching
L&O
as usual. But I think I'm getting my period 'cause I'm really
craving something sweet.” Lauren looked back at her sister. “Wanna join me?”

Accepting the invitation as a sign from above, Sydney didn't hesitate. “Yeah, actually, I would,” she agreed with a nod.

“Really?” Lauren said, somewhat surprised that her calorie-conscious twin wanted to scarf down dessert. She stopped to wait for her sister to walk back to her so that they could head downstairs together. “So, can I tell you, I saw Dara the other day…” she started hesitantly.

“Ugh, who hasn't? I feel like every time I turn a corner I see her gloating face,” Sydney grumbled.

“Yeah, but let's just say she wasn't exactly looking so great when I saw her,” Lauren mused quietly as she remembered the pathetic look on her former best friend's face.

“Really?” Sydney said excitedly. It was good to know she wasn't the only one going through it.

“Yeah, she was actually pretty sad looking. I guess she's having morning sickness or something…I haven't the slightest. But it didn't look fun,” Lauren answered as the two descended to the lower level.

“Why do you sound like you feel bad for her or something?” Sydney questioned defensively.

“Oh, no, not at all,” Lauren quickly clarified. “It's
totally what she deserves. I'm just commenting. You know I have absolutely no love for her.”

“Oh, okay,” Sydney said, giving her sister the serious side-eye as they entered the kitchen.

“Good evening, Ms. Sydney and Ms. Lauren. Do you need help with something?” Edwina asked as she jumped up from the kitchen table, where she was flipping through a copy of
People en Español.
Prepared to put together whatever the young ladies' hearts desired, the petite woman hurried behind the floating island.

“Hey, Edwina,” the two girls greeted their longtime live-in housekeeper.

“Lauren's greedy butt has the munchies,” Sydney teased as the two headed over to the table and sat down.

“Call it what you want, but there's a bowl of Chunky Monkey with some warm caramel sauce that has my name on it. Right, Edwina?” Lauren said as she lazily stretched her arms above her head and then adjusted the mint-green boxers she was wearing.

“Coming right up,” Edwina replied as she turned to the double-door Sub-Zero refrigerator.

“So are you still down to share?” Lauren questioned Sydney with a mischievous gleam in her eye.

Sydney could feel her booty getting bigger just talking about the calorie-filled dessert. “Um, maybe I'll just take a couple of bites of yours,” she said with a cautious smile.
“We can't all be future
KING
magazine cover candidates up in here.”