“That a threat?” Aunt Lulamae asked.
“Nope,” Mitch answered.
“High and mighty cop, you think you got the system on your side,” Mom stated, her lip curled. “But we got ourselves a lawyer, Lulamae, Jez and me. And he says the system likes to place kids with blood relatives, the closer, the better. Not some second cousin, but a Momma or a Grandma. And Jez here, now she’s all set to move into a trailer close to me and Lulamae so those kids got all sorts of family close by to take care ‘a them and see they got what they need.”
After she said this, her face changed and I knew that change. I knew it because I’d seen it often in my life. And I knew it heralded her doing something that was not just her normal ugly but her vastly more hideous nasty.
And I would be right because she went on to say, “And, Jez here bein’ Billie’s Mom and all, we’re happy just to have the girl. You can have the boy.”
My heart clenched so hard I feared it would rupture and Mitch’s arm spasmed tight around my waist.
They had a lawyer.
And they were happy to break up the kids.
They had a lawyer and they were happy to break up the kids.
“I see you’re not just not all that smart. You’re plain stupid,” Mitch returned quietly, his eyes locked on Mom.
“Got a lawyer who don’t think the same way,” Aunt Lulamae fired back.
“No,” Mitch replied, his gaze slicing to Lulamae. “You got a lawyer who’s happy to take your money on a case he knows he has no hope of winning.”
Mom shook her head. “See you’re not too smart. Don’t you see? We’re offerin’ you a deal. We take the girl. You want him, you can have the boy. Everyone’s happy.”
The girl.
The boy.
Why did her calling Billy and Billie that hurt so much?
I started having trouble breathing.
“You’re not taking Billie,” Mitch declared.
“Jez is her Momma,” Aunt Lulamae stated. “And my boy gets to pick who he wants to raise his kids and he picks Jez, Melba and me.”
“Bill doesn’t get to decide shit,” Mitch shot back.
That was when Aunt Lulamae’s expression went from ugly to nasty.
She had something, I could tell by the look in her eyes. She was saving her ace and was about to play it.
I braced and she played it.
“He didn’t when he was facin’ all them charges. He does now, seein’ as he’s talkin’ with the DA to make a deal to provide testimony in return for immunity,” Aunt Lulamae returned fire, I stopped breathing altogether and felt Mitch’s body get tight.
Mom smiled in a way I clutched Mitch’s shirt at the back.
“He’s got good stuff. So good, they’re willin’ to give into all his demands. And one a’ those demands is he gets to say where his kids’re gonna be. Now, you’re smart, you deal. We’re willin’ to give you the boy but we take the girl,” she said.
I knew Mitch was preparing to speak but he didn’t get the chance.
This was because, in a flash that lasted a nanosecond, it all came to me.
Jez didn’t care about Billie. Whether she was moving into a trailer close to them or not, she was there because she was getting something out of it. What, I had no clue. But whatever she was getting, it wasn’t her daughter that she wanted.
And I had no idea how Mom and Aunt Lulamae were paying for an attorney. They had no money and neither did Bill. Whatever it was was probably taken out in trade and I knew whatever they were giving some sleazebag lawyer to get him to take their case would lose its luster and do it quickly.
And there was no judge in the land who would take two children from a woman who gave them a stable home, food, clothes and good people in their lives and plant them in a trailer two states away to live with women of proven bad character.
And Bill knew this.
But he didn’t care.
He just wanted to fuck with me. Probably with Mitch too. But definitely with me.
And he was using his children to do it.
But that flash I had wasn’t just understanding what was happening right then in my apartment. It was understanding what Mitch had been telling me, what people who knew and cared about me had been saying and showing all my life.
I was not a Two Point Five. Behaving the way they behaved, speaking the way they spoke, making the threats they were making would not occur to me. I would never, not in a million years, do any of that.
Because that was not me.
And it never had been.
So when the reply came, it was me who gave it.
“Get out of my house,” I said quietly and all eyes turned to me.
“What?” Mom asked.
“Get out of my house. Now,” I repeated with an added directive.