CHAPTER 87: SANITY IN SAVANNAH 

The first thing I noticed as I stepped off the plane was the sultriness of the air. Even indoors, it’s so different from this time of year in Pittsburgh. And although I’m sweating, I’m also breathing a little easier, knowing I’m away from everything right now. Stephen was right that I needed to get out of there for a while. The constant weight of Michael’s foolishness was wearing on me from all angles.

There was the list of his crimes: 

The first was the loft robbery, this happened a few years ago, which resulted in the first of the Grand Larceny charges. The second one is in accepting stolen goods from Craig Taylor; the third from his own partner, even though I’m not sure how that’s even possible. I mean, are they saying that all the money Ben had given Michael was stolen? Well, that makes no sense! Ben had a choice to say no, after all.

Attempted blackmail. Who?  As far as I know, Michael was the one being blackmailed by that fucking cunt, Claire.

Embezzlement. Well, okay, because Michael stole from Justin by withholding the money that rightfully belonged to him from his work on Rage. So, I can’t see how Michael could beat that charge.

 Accessory to voyeurism and stalking. Does that mean he was actually spying on Brian alongside that Lance guy? Or is this strictly about Michael’s preoccupation with Brian’s backroom exploits? If that’s the case, then half of Liberty Avenue would need to share in that charge!

Prostitution, both forced and coerced. Again, I’m not sure of that charge because of Hunter’s past.

Accessory to Rape… I mean, who the hell would my son have to rape? Admittedly, he’s no Brian Kinney, but Michael isn’t a troll. And according to Stephen and everyone else, more charges are sure to follow. 

But that still doesn’t explain any of the conspiracy charges against him, nor filing some false report. Shit! I can’t even lay all the blame at Lindsay’s door this time, because if it wasn’t for Michael getting caught, who knows what else he might have gotten me involved in? But the only question flitting through my head at the moment, beyond his chronic poor decision making, is the question of why. What was he really hoping to gain from all of that? And then to know that he was working with Craig, Lindsay, and Sapperstein to hurt Justin again… Why? And just where the hell does Gardner Vance fit into all of this?

I know that I really need to watch the interview Brian and Sunshine gave, again, this time without all the anger of being left out. During the flight here, I couldn’t help but think of all the reasons they did, especially while hearing Stephen’s words about me being the club Michael used to beat them back into submission. All I could feel was shame, as I had nothing else to do on the flight except replay and examine all my interactions with those I considered my children, beginning with Brian. But if I watch the interview again, maybe I can really get some answers to all these questions. But right now, my head is throbbing again, thinking about all this shit, even while I collect my luggage from baggage claim. 

Thankfully, where I am isn’t crowded yet, because Stephen was kind enough to put me in First Class for my flight here. I don’t think I could have handled jockeying for a position to claim what’s mine and be on my way if I had been in coach. As I move on, as the herd begins to descend, I look around to find the drop-off and pick up area. So far, this is the only thing that’s familiar to me as I watch people almost knock each other over trying to get to the nearest cab, even as airport security is trying their best to keep order. I suppose that’s one occurrence that goes along with travel, in addition to the cacophony of noise and inconsiderate people.  

It’s times like this I really miss Vic, because while I’m watching friends and family rush to and fro, I can’t help but remember the last time I did so with him by my side. But he’s made his choice, and sadly, it wasn’t me. I don’t know if I can ever forgive him for that. Anyway, I know that Stephen said that a driver should be waiting for me. So there’s at least some light at the end of a very dark tunnel for me.

As I round the corner where the limos are parked, I see a woman about my age holding up a sign with my name on it. When I approach her, she offers me a genuine smile before introducing herself to me and welcoming me to Savannah. While she was asking the driver to load my bags into the trunk, I took in her appearance. Blanche Blessingdale was in a classy pantsuit, reminiscent of ones I’d seen Jennifer wear. Her white hair gleamed from beneath the fascinator hat of the same blue as her suit and matching shoes. I couldn’t help but feel downright dowdy standing next to her. She was all class and elegance, while here I was, looking like the waitress I have always been. 

“Stop that,” she said, addressing me again.

“I haven’t done anything.”

“Yes, you have.”

“No, I haven’t,” I defended myself. I mean, who the hell does this woman think she is? She doesn’t know me from a can of paint!

“Yes, you are, Debbie. You’re standing there playing the comparison game and finding yourself lacking. I know the look, since I’ve been there myself a time or five.”

“I wa…” I didn’t want to admit that she was right, so of course I started to protest, but she cut me off.

“When was the last time you’ve eaten?”

“Huh?”

She chuckled. “When was the last time you’ve eaten?” She repeated. “I, myself, am due for a meal. So I figured we’d head over to Gertie’s before we get you settled in at Legacy. She’s like us.”

“What do you mean?”

At first, she didn’t answer; just got into the limo and waited for me to settle myself beside her. Once again, I felt so out of place because of the way I was dressed, in comparison to her. Next to her, I look like I should have been one of the people out there still fighting for a cab. I almost laughed aloud, hearing the theme song from the show “Taxi” playing through the speakers at the very moment I thought of that. But just as quickly as the humor bubbled inside of me, it died again as I again thought of Vic. He would have understood the reference of hearing “Angela” at a time like this.

God, I miss him.

Blanche reached out to pat my hand gently, as if once again discerning my thoughts, before placing it back onto her lap. “I meant that three of Gertie’s children are serving hard time in prison, as is my daughter. And just as your son will be.”

“But Michael… Nothing has been decided yet!”

She sighed. “Debbie, I’m going to be completely honest with you. Now, the first reason for that is because I think you need it.” As I started to protest, she held up her hand, much like I’d seen Jennifer and Justin do whenever they had a point to make. I quieted. “The second reason is because you have choices to make, and you need all of the information so that you can choose wisely for yourself as a person, and just simply not as someone’s mother.”

I took a few moments to absorb what it was she was trying to tell me, before I agreed to hear her out. “Okay, I’m listening.”

“As I was saying, from what I understand, your son is going to jail. The only thing to be decided at this moment is for how long. Not if, not even when, Debbie. But for how long. I understand where you are emotionally, probably even better than you do, since my own daughter will be 175 years old before she will be released from prison, and she is only 25.”

“How long has she been in?”

“This November will be three years since she went in. I’m going to tell you this, and yes, you may think me heartless for saying so, but I’m glad she’s there.”

“How can you say that?” I ask, not understanding how she could be so nonchalant about her daughter being in jail.

“I can say that because the person I raised is not the one who deliberately committed crimes that would have had me sitting in prison while she was still left to roam free and terrorize at will. She would have continued to lie, scheme, and scam her way through everyone and everything; doing the exact opposite of what she was raised to do, while laughing at the people she’d hurt in the process, including me. Not only that, but the lives she took or caused to be taken, all so she could live a life she didn’t earn honestly…”

I gasped as all of what Blanche was telling me suddenly began to mirror my own situation with Michael. Was that Michael’s ultimate goal? I thought back to the words that Detective Horvath and Joanne Carver said to me about how close I’d come to sitting in a cell beside him if I didn’t tell them everything I knew. How Melanie advised that by me signing the house in Palm Springs over to Brian it absolved me from being charged as an accessory to embezzlement and fraud… The knowledge that Michael was setting me up became all too clear in that moment, and it was simply overwhelming. 

And all so he could have Brian Kinney exactly where he wanted him, without interference!

Blanche nodded at me. “Ah. I see all the puzzle pieces in your head just clicked, didn’t they?”

“More than you know,” I murmured. “But why? I mean, no, I wasn’t the best mother. I couldn’t do so many things that other parents could do for their children. But I tried to be the best for him. Tried to give him the things he needed, and the things he wanted, when I could.”

“I would imagine that included people, too?”

“Yeah,” I said, really understanding Brian, Justin, and the rest of their points of view right now. “How did you know?”

“Because I tried to do the same for my daughter. She was much like your Michael, always wanting people to treat her like the pampered princess she saw herself as, instead of working for what she wanted in life the right way. No, she would rather everyone else do the heavy lifting for her, and when that didn’t work, she would call me in to put them in their place and remind them of their duty to us as their chosen family. It didn’t help that they tried to tell me what she was doing, and I kicked them out of our lives for a time, not wanting to hear anything that made her look bad.” 

Blanche fell silent for a few moments, tears falling down her cheeks. My heart went out to her then, because just as I had suffered, so had she. As put together as she looked, one would never know that beneath the fancy clothes and flawless makeup, there lay a wound as big as my own. “What happened?”

“One of them ended up dead because of her shenanigans.”

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry.”

“Not as sorry as I was and still am.” She dabbed at her eyes, before continuing. “At first, she tried to tell me that it wasn’t her fault, that she was just an innocent bystander to the armed robbery that took three young men’s lives and wounded six other people. I believed her. I mean who would have thought that the girl who was all of 5’2 and looked as if she was born of pixie dust would be a stone-cold killer?

“But when I heard the whole story from the people who were there, those that witnessed the shootings and saw her press the smoking gun into her accomplice’s hand afterwards, what kind of defense did I have left? It was then that I really began to see who my daughter was beneath the innocent facade she portrayed to the rest of the world. And that’s when she turned on me. Prior to that, there wasn’t much I didn’t do to make sure she had whatever she wanted or needed, much like you did. But when I looked around and really took stock of what she was costing me, I found that I could no longer pay the price for being her mother.”  

“Why would Michael set out to betray me like that?”

“The surface answer would be that he’s a malignant narcissist. The common name for that is a psychopath. At least, that’s what was told to me after I had listened to the testimony given by some psychiatrist who was refuting the insanity plea my daughter was trying to give. Turns out that although the murders were the most significant of her crimes, they didn’t even begin to scratch the surface of the charges against her. I asked her defense attorney what it meant for her case, and he told me then that she would be tried to the fullest extent of the law. But I think there was more to it than that simple answer. The bottom line though is that Michael knew right from wrong, he just didn’t care. Now you have to figure out if being Michael’s ‘Ma’ is really worth what it has cost you thus far.” 

“That self-inventory Stephen was talking about?”

“Yes!” she exclaimed and then laughed. “I swear, being around Stephen can sometimes be like having free sessions with Alex.”

“You’ve met them?”

“Of course. Stephen is the one who introduced me to Gertie, who, as I’ve mentioned, has been through what I have, and what you’re about to go through. Considering his own history, I don’t think we could have a better guide to creating our own happiness, post-family trauma. Do you?”

I shook my head. “He’s been amazing throughout all of this.”

“And I suspect he will continue to be so. I can’t tell you what to do, Debbie, but if you’re really ready to write a new chapter in your own story, I can tell you from experience, that although I miss the person I thought my daughter was, I don’t miss the lack of peace of mind that came with her. I don’t miss the need to weigh all of my decisions on how sure I was that she would throw a tantrum I would ultimately end up apologizing to her for. I don’t miss having my self-worth dependent upon her whims… On whether today would be the day she treated me like I mattered. But most of all, I don’t miss having to put myself last in my own life in order to keep my sanity.”

I don’t think anything else could have driven home the point she tried to make than that last statement. Because ultimately, that’s what being Michael’s ‘Ma’ has drained from me. 

My Sanity.