CHAPTER 55: AND JUST WHEN YOU THINK THE DEVIL HAS FORGOTTEN ABOUT YOU… SURPRISE!!

DEB:

I storm into my borrowed home, thoroughly pissed off. I can’t believe Brian is giving that bitch a chance while still not forgiving me! After all I’ve done for him while she was drunk off her ass… But then for her to be so condescending to me… THE FUCKING NERVE OF HER!! And then that Jennifer, talking to me as she did. Just who the fuck does she think she is?! She forgets that it was me who took her son in when she had her head so far up her bigoted husband’s ass that he couldn’t even take a shit without her knowing about it! Instead of convincing Brian and Justin to forgive me, she’s hanging out with fucking Joan Kinney like they’re old friends. I’m so fucking upset, I...I…

“Whoa, Deb! What has your tits in a twist?” Vic asks me, as I enter the kitchen. The last thing I was expecting was to see him, Rodney, and Emmett crowding the kitchen at this time of day.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“I’ll tell you later okay?”

“That’s fine,” he answers me, and goes back to speaking with Emmett and Rodney like he didn’t just ask me if anything was wrong.

Ordinarily, he would stop whatever he was doing and come and talk to me immediately. “Well?”

“Well what?”

“Aren’t you going to come talk to me now?” Rodney rolls his eyes, and Emmett sighs, just as Vic does. What the fuck is going on here?

“I’ll talk to you when you’re actually ready to talk, Deb. I asked you what was wrong, you said you’d tell me later. I was adhering to what you, yourself said. And honestly, I don’t have the time, inclination, or patience to play guessing games, or better yet to deal with your version of being Mikey, Senior. Emmett and I are in a time crunch for an event we’re doing tomorrow. So no, there is no time to stop building my business for another episode of ‘Debbie Does Drama!’”

“Well excuse the fuck out of me!”

“You’re excused!”

I march out of the kitchen, but do not go too far. In fact, because of my inherent nosiness I stand on the side closest to the living room for an easy escape just in case.

“What do you think that was about?” Rodney asks.

“Brandon said it was because Deb got told off by Jennifer for her treatment of Joan. He was there registering for classes in Forensic Science.” Emmett tells them.

“Did you just say Joan?”

“Yes. Apparently, she and Big Bad have made their peace.”

“Wow! That’s his mother, right?”

“Yes, she is. And if I know my sister, and I do, she had a lot to say about the fact that Brian is so willing to give Joan a second chance, but not her.”

“Why should that even be an issue? The woman is his mother.”

“True, but between both of Brian’s parents… well they hated each other and unfortunately took it out on Brian, both physically and emotionally. Claire was basically left untouched, which was bullshit since she instigated most of the reasons Brian got smacked around. Deb and I took care of Brian, but there wasn’t much else he would let us do.”

“If it eases your mind any, Vic, Joan entered rehab after a near-death experience, and has been sober ever since.” You mean that bitch was telling the fucking truth! I think to myself, while still listening to Emmett.  “From what I know of the situation, Brian’s forgiveness, which he often gives freely but was a little more difficult for Joan, came because Brian had his own similar experiences. It’s a shame they had to find common ground through such circumstances, but it’s a start.”

“What do you mean that Brian had a similar experience?! Why wasn’t I told?!” I yell as I barge back into the kitchen.

“Why was it any of your fucking business?!” Emmett yells right back at me. “And here we all thought that perhaps being here in this house with a therapist was helping you to get over your entitlement issues! Get this through your head once and for all, Deb. No one- not ONE fucking one of us- owes you a fucking thing, especially NOT a way back into our lives! What you did was wrong. Hurling insult after insult at Joan Kinney did NOTHING but make you look as bitchy and as petulant as your offspring. You constantly ask where Michael learned his abhorrent behavior from… well take a look in the fucking mirror, since you are standing there pouting with your arms crossed, and tapping your foot as he often does when things don't go his way. Well congratulations, Deb. You were finally able to clone YOURSELF! Now that’s who you should be angry with; not Brian for giving Joan a chance to have a solid support system throughout her recovery. I’ll be back later!” Emmett says before leaving the house.

“I…”

“Don’t, Debbie,” Vic warns. “Emmett was absolutely correct in everything he said, and if you can’t see that than I can’t see that there is any hope for you.”

“But…”

“You just can’t stop pushing, can you?!” Rodney explodes. “And you wonder why no one wants to have a conversation with you right now? It’s because you just MUST have something to say, even when it’s completely evident that you were wrong. When are you going to learn to take responsibility for your actions, and understand that people do not have to sit back and take your abuse?!”

“I don’t abuse…”

“You don’t? Abuse is abuse, no matter how much you want to term it ‘love’ in your one-track mind. You’ve mentally and emotionally bullied everyone around you for years in your quest for your son to love you. IF they can forgive you for it, they will. But you don’t get to BULLY them into doing it!”

“Rodney…,” Vic whispered to him, while I stood there fuming with tears in my eyes. I can’t believe that he continues to put Rodney and the rest of them before me. It fucking HURTS! “Let’s go calm you down. You know what the doc said.”

Oh my God! I’d forgotten he had an appointment earlier today. I feel like shit. “What did he say?”

“You don’t get to know. And even if I wanted to tell you, I don’t want to talk about it now. Can you handle that? Can you understand that? Can you resist the urge to bogard your way into MY business?”

Vic takes him by the hand and leads him to the back terrace. And although I know that he is right, it is hard not to want to push for information. But I have to question just why I want it… and it’s now that I understand fully what Alex and Stephen were trying to tell me. I got my roles reversed somehow. While I smothered Michael, I browbeat the others into submission by assuming the roles of their mothers. When I think about it, and remember hearing the stories of how their own moms treated them, I finally realize that I was just like them, only much worse. Whereas their mothers were physically and verbally abusive, I took their love and used it as a means of control.

I can’t even lay this all at my own parents’ door, because we all have choices of whether to become what we’re taught, or to find our own way. I think it’s definitely time for me to forge my own path. Before when I said it, I thought I was truly ready, and yet at every opportunity, I fell into old habits as today’s behavior and arguments have established. But this time I really mean it. I have to, otherwise I won’t even be left with my brother in my corner. Like it or not, Rodney is the most important person in Vic’s life. And until I grow and change, I’m doomed to be the very thing I’ve always feared. I’ll be alone.

MICHAEL:

I wonder how Ma is doing. It’s been strange not having her hovering. I guess she’s still upset with me, but she should be over it by now, right? She hasn’t answered the house phone, and every time I tried to call her cell, it tells me that the number I’ve reached no longer accepts collect calls. I feel fucking alone here! Every time I make what is perceived to be a wrong move by my cell mate, my ass is punished in some way. I tried to get out of this cell and into another one, but that shit didn’t work. Instead, once it got back to Bubble, I ended up with sore ribs and a loose front tooth. No one is listening to me at all when I complain! I almost have to wonder why that is…

“Novotny, mail call,” the guard calls out for me, and I almost run to retrieve my mail, but again Bubble beat me to it.

“I’ll make sure he gets it, Officer,” he tells him. I want to protest the invasion of my privacy, but I dare not do so. The last time I did, I ended up in the infirmary for over a week, and yet they STILL sent me back here. Granted, Bubble just made me pull my jaw out of socket by forcing a light bulb into my mouth, but he told them that I did it on my own instead of telling the guards that it was either do that, or suffer the indignity of having my head put into the toilet again, after he used it. “This looks official,” he says, twirling the envelope in his hands, before breaking the seal on MY letter.

“It is,” Officer Hendricks tells him, but is smirking at me. I don’t have long to find out why.

“Well, Novotny, it looks like they’ve sent an accounting of your entire collections of children’s books and toys, along with a billing sheet.”

“First, they aren’t childrens’ books and toys. They are COLLECTIBLES!”

“And you’re raising your voice at me. Need I remind you of what happened the last time you did so?” He narrows his eyes at me in warning, and whether I like it or not, I feel the frisson of fear race throughout my entire body.

“No.”

“Good, so to continue, it gives me great pleasure to tell you that they partially decided on your embezzlement case.”

“What? What do you mean?” I move to snatch the document out of his hand, but he moves it out of my reach. “Please… please tell me?!” I just barely swallow the whimper I’m tempted to let out at the anxiousness I feel.

“So far, Justin Taylor has been given those items as partial payment by the person who holds your power of attorney.”

“Fuck!”

“Problem?”

“I’d forgotten that I switched it over to my uncle after Brian and I had a major fight that resulted in us not speaking for a time. It was done years ago, and I just never changed it back although I meant to.”

“Well, too late now. The amount in tangible products covered about half of what you actually stole from him…

“I didn’t steal…”

“No you just embezzled, right? WRONG! It’s pretty much the same thing since he owned half of the business, whose share of the profits you withheld from him, dumbass. Jesus, how did you ever walk and chew gum at the same time?! Anyway, the rest of what’s owed and requested in restitution will be decided at your trial.”

“But that… that will leave me without ANYTHING!”

“That’s right! No job, no property, no money… Honestly, you’ll be better off in jail. At least you’ll have three hots to eat and a cot to sleep on, although I would be careful of who I offend where you’re going to go. I hear the roof leaks on the upper floor. In fact, you should practice silence right now. Your voice alone is enough to annoy God, and we all know that He’s forgiving. Human beings… not so much.”

With what Uncle Vic just did, I can’t even afford an attorney, especially since all of MY assets have been frozen already. I can only hope the legal aid lawyer they have to give me will be on my side and believes my side of the story, regardless of what Boy Wonder says. Yeah, it’s his word against mine, and he’s already been proven a liar. It’s about time his penchant for playing fast and loose with the truth is brought out into the open.

LINDSAY

“Peterson, let’s go,” Officer Mills tells me as she steps into my cell. It still aggravating as hell how they can come and go as they please in here without even a simple courtesy, like knocking. But, then again, they all seem pretty common to me so maybe they were never taught the finer points of etiquette.

“Where are we going? I don't have an appointment in the infirmary today,” I say, still lounging on my cot.

“You're due in court within the next hour.”

“What?”

She smirks at me. “You heard me. You’re dumb, yes, but certainly not deaf.”

I deliberately disregard her insult, but will record it in my notebook of staff infractions later. As soon as I’m out of this mess, I intend to file a lawsuit against the State for my continuous mistreatment.  “Be that as it may, I didn't receive the proper notice.”

Instead of answering me, she walks over to the small desk in the corner. Thankfully, I have the journal underneath my mattress as I had recorded the fact that Justin was wearing a microphone without my knowledge. There has to be a law against that. As she pulls out two stacks of envelopes, I suddenly find myself feeling lightheaded. One stack of letters were personal correspondence from my father, advising that he will be assisting the prosecution in giving the full story as he knows it. He berated me for Craig and I using his name and connections to get my car back to the house Melanie and I used to share on the night of Justin's prom. In retrospect, it was stupid, but considering Brian was in that parking garage, Craig couldn’t pretend to be him as we'd originally planned.

The other stack of papers are all the official court documents that I, at first, refused to open, and then had just forgotten about entirely. WIth everything that's been going on since my arrival, who could blame me? She continued to sift through the stack until she found the one postmarked three weeks ago and was addressed to me from some attorney whom I’d never heard of or paid attention to if I had.

“Ah, here you go, Peterson. Well, you’re certainly having an interesting day. Today’s hearing is about the “Alienation of Affection” lawsuit, which was brought against you by one Amanda Auerbach.”

“Well tell them I can’t make it! It’s not my fault that I had no foreknowledge of this so I could hire an attorney.” I stare at her to silently make my meaning clear and to demand her immediate cooperation.

“Nice try, but not gonna happen,” Mills tells me. “So I guess that means you’re going dressed as you are?”

I take a look at the orange jumpsuit they require we wear when we don’t have visitors, and shake my head in disgust. I rub my stomach, which is still flat, but hey… why not try to play for sympathy from woman to woman? “I’m really not feeling well. As you’ve said, it’s been an eventful day.”

“I said interesting, and furthermore, as a mom of six, I’m not buying the whole aching belly routine, especially when there really isn’t evidence of a protruding belly thus far. So what’s it going to be?”

I roll my eyes as I move over to what passes for a closet in this cell. Moving as slow as I can to stall for time, I pick a piece, examining it fully, before putting back in favor of another item.

After about five minutes, and no doubt amusement at my tactics on her part, she says, “Peterson, I don’t care if we leave the facility with you clothed in a bra, tube socks, and the granny panties you are wearing right now. You have five seconds to pick an outfit and five after that to put it on. After the ten seconds are up, whatever you’re NOT wearing will be too damn bad. Now MOVE IT!”

Looking back at her over my shoulder, I can see the seriousness of her words, and decided on the red pantsuit I arrived here in. I really can’t believe that bitter bitch is really suing me for fucking Sam. And as I make my way down the corridor hurriedly, but fully dressed, I vow to find a way to get even with Cynthia for giving the press, and ultimately, Amanda Auerbach, my name. Making her life hell is a punishment LONG OVERDUE!