Read Woman at the Top of the Stairs Page 21


  Chapter Twenty One

  Gina

  After I talked to Mac and thought about some things, I’ve come to the conclusion that I am willing to risk just about everything to rectify a few situations. I’m tired of all the stuff that’s been going on. I hate to admit it, but I’ve thought of at least 100 ways to take Mac out. It all boils down to whether I just want to hurt him or get rid of him altogether. If I just hurt him, maybe it would be a wakeup call that he needs to change his wicked ways. Maybe he would see his recovery as a second chance to get it right. Hell, maybe I would be doing him a favor by giving him that second chance. But then I started to think about it some more. Mac doesn’t deserve a second chance. He has all the chances he’s going to get. By taking him all the way out, I am really doing my civic duty by ridding the world of a monster.

  Getting rid of Mac is going to be a bit riskier than helping Zenobia to off Percy since I don’t know a lot about what’s been going on with him here as of late. That has the potential to create a problem in the future. Nobody’s going to miss Percy’s ass when he’s gone, but there may be a few people that will miss Mac. I need to get as much information about his situation as I can and figure out what my next move is going to be. Should it be quick or should it be torturous? Personally I like the idea of torturing his ass like he tortured me. But that will take a whole lot more preparation than just putting a bullet between his eyes and letting the cops try to sort the shit out. Whatever I decide to do, I have to make up my mind soon. Time is definitely of the essence. I have to learn about his habits all over again and move from the fringes of his life to smack dab in the middle. Getting him to trust me completely again will be easy. Stomaching his ass won’t be. That’s why I need to get my plan down quick cause I can’t take too much of Mac.

  Trying to keep things as normal as possible has to be a priority as well. I am at work now, but my mind is somewhere else. I can’t afford to be slipping at work because that will draw too much attention. One thing I know I need to do is keep my eye on the locked medicine cabinet. There are some things in there I need, and I have to make sure that when and if I need them, no one will be the wiser. I’ve got some ideas for Mac and the hospital’s medicine chest has just the thing I need. I will likely need to get creative. I might have to do a little schmoozing, but I’ll get it.

  Things are a little quieter in the Emergency Room than I expected. Now is a good time to check in on Yvette and see how to work my plan for Mac.

  From the looks of her, I can already tell it’s not good.

  “Yvette! I haven’t seen you all day. What’s good?”

  That simple question caused Yvette to break out in tears right at the nurses’ station.

  “Gina, I can’t…I just can’t.”

  Damn, I just got a page that I’m needed stat in triage.

  “I know you can’t talk right now, but maybe after the shift?”

  Yvette’s eyes were so sad. Although she was not pleading with her voice, everything about her begged me to find the time to talk to her.

  “As soon as shift is over I’ll meet you right back here. We’ll go have a drink or something, okay?”

  She shook her head affirmatively as a single tear fell from her eye.

  “You gone be okay? I can get someone to cover for me so we can talk now…”

  “No, no,” Yvette protested swiping vigorously at the tears starting to fall more readily from her eyes. “I’ll be okay. Keeping busy helps…midnight…straight up, okay?”

  “Not one minute past,” I assured her. “I don’t care what’s going on. I’ll meet you right here midnight on the dot.”

  I felt bad having to leave her, but that’s just how it goes in ER.

  I promised Yvette I was going to meet her and I intended to keep that promise. I hoped my relief would arrive on time to handle the overnight shift. As I finished doing vitals on what I hoped to be my last triage patient for the night, my replacement tapped me on the shoulder and told me she was here to take over. I finished the blood pressure reading I was taking, jotted the results in the client’s file, debriefed my replacement, advised my patient that she would be in good hands and made my way back to the nurses’ station just in time to see Yvette rounding the corner from the other hallway.

  She looked relieved to see me there.

  “Let’s get you away from here so we can talk.”

  I thought it best to drive considering the circumstances. We jumped in Berta and headed to Scores, a local bar and grill not too far from the hospital. I didn’t think Yvette was in any condition to drive, and she didn’t fight me on it.

  She flopped down in the passenger seat, closed the door, buckled her seatbelt and pressed her head back against the headrest as though completely exhausted. Yvette had been a nurse for as long as I had been. There’s a certain level of physical tiredness that comes with the job, but this was more than that. This was mental exhaustion.

  We drove in silence the few miles to the restaurant. Every now and again she would wipe at her eyes and sigh deeply, but she didn’t speak.

  Fortunately Scores wasn’t too crowded for a weekday night so we were able to be seated right away. The hostess sat us at a table near the back of the restaurant. It was secluded enough for us to talk without having to worry about someone overhearing. The hostess advised that our waiter would be with us shortly and gave us menus to look over in the meantime. Yvette was still quiet. She buried her head in the menu to the point that I couldn’t even see her face. I didn’t need a menu to know that I needed a stiff drink. I’m not much of a drinker - just wine every now and then - but tonight wine wasn’t going to be enough. I could feel it.

  Neither one of us immediately noticed the waiter when he approached. Yvette was still buried in the menu and I was people watching. When he cleared his throat and introduced himself, that’s when we both took note.

  “Good evening ladies. My name is Marlon, and I’ll be serving you tonight.”

  Before he could get the rest of his well-rehearsed introduction out, Yvette looked up, looked at him, read his name badge with her husband’s name spelled out in big bold black letters, excused herself and bolted from the table. What irony! I excused myself from the table - letting the waiter know we would be back - and followed her into the women’s restroom.

  Thank goodness the restaurant bathroom was empty. After locking the door behind us, I turned to Yvette and found her crumpled on the floor crying her eyes out. This staying to myself shit is not working out. It seemed like everybody was going through something. Damn!

  I let her cry; her body heaving and convulsing from the depth of the tears she shed. When she quieted some I asked her what was the matter.

  “Gina, you won’t believe this. I can hardly believe it myself.” Her words were choppy at first, but as she began to calm and take a few deep breaths, her speech became more succinct and clear.

  “Yvette, just take your time and tell me what in the world happened.” I grabbed some tissue, handed it to her and sat on the bathroom floor next to her.

  She began to speak. The tears continued to flow. “I was home yesterday by myself for a little while. My husband and the children were out running errands. It was nice to have the house to myself. With the long hours we work and everything going on at home, I was really enjoying the quiet. The phone rang. At first I was going to answer, but decided to just let it go to voice mail. It wasn’t a number I recognized immediately so I didn’t bother with it. A few minutes later it rang again from the same number. This time I decided to pick up.”

  Yvette took a deep breath like she had to get herself together to keep going. I didn’t press her. She needed to tell me whatever it was at her own pace.

  “When I answered the phone the other person on the other end of the phone didn’t say anything right away. I repeated hello a few times before they decided to respond. Then a woman asked for Marlon directly. It was something
in her voice and in my gut that made me press to see what she wanted. Gina, this wasn’t a bill collector or telemarketer or nothing like that. This was personal and I knew it. I just knew it.”

  Yvette tried to compose herself and fight back the tears. She kept shaking her head as if she couldn’t believe it even though she was speaking it.

  “I asked her what she wanted with my husband. At first she was evasive. I asked her again and that’s when the whole thing got real for me. She tried to apologize and get off the phone real quick, but I wouldn’t let her. After I asked her again what she wanted with my husband, she hung up the phone. Well I refused to accept that. I needed to know what the hell was going on, so I called her back. It may sound childish, but I called back and demanded she tell me what the hell was going on!”

  The disbelief and sheer shock of the situation resonated in Yvette’s voice.

  “She knew who I was, Gina. She knew that normally I wouldn’t be home that time of day. She kept apologizing, but she wouldn’t say for what. But I already knew why. After I asked her about the apologies the bitch had the nerve to get smart with me and tell me all I wasn’t doing for my husband and how she feels sorry for him. She told me everything he said about me. She believed it without even really knowing me. That’s the part that made me sick to my stomach. I confronted her on that and she tried to get quiet again. What kind of real woman does that to another woman? Is there no respect? No sister-to-sister connection? He’s a man for Christ’s sake! Don’t you think he’s only going to tell you his side of the story and use you to get what he wants? I was hurt. But then I got pissed when I thought about how stupid the both of us were for believing his bullshit and copping to it like we owe him something.

  The anger and disgust penetrated her voice as she continued.

  “Before I hung up, I asked her had she slept with him.”

  “What did she say?”

  “She said no. I would like to believe her…I really would. But what snake is going to admit to the real shit they do in the dark? I really didn’t need confirmation from her. I needed confirmation from my husband.”

  “Did you get it?”

  “I tried to handle it as tactfully as I could. When he and the children returned from running errands I didn’t say anything. Just like always, I pretended that everything was fucking peachy keen. Excuse my language, Gina. I normally don’t curse like this but…”

  “You don’t have to explain, Yvette…”

  “So like I said, I tried to be as tactful as possible and wait until after dinner and the children were safely tucked into their beds. I didn’t confront him outright. I just told him he got a call today that I was sure he was expecting. Immediately he looked all kinds of guilty. That let me know that this little phone thing has been going on for a while. I didn’t need to bother with snooping around with phone records and shit like that. His face said it all.”

  Yvette pushed herself up off the floor and dusted the dirt from her scrubs. I joined her, not sure if she had more she wanted to say.

  “So did you ask him?”

  “Yeah, I asked him had he fucked the bitch when I saw how guilty he was looking. And I knew…I just knew that bastard was going to deny it.”

  She paused shaking her head vigorously from side to side.

  “But you know what? You know what that slimy bastard did?” She walked closer to me and we stood there nose to nose. “He got this close to my fucking face and said yeah I fucked her and I’ll fuck her again!”

  The intensity in her eyes and the tears brimming on the edge forced me to look away. She realized how close we were and apologetically took a step back.

  “Damn, Vette…I’m so sorry…”

  “Gina, I didn’t know whether to spit in his face or slap the living shit out of him. But truth be told, I was completely paralyzed by what he said. I know it’s been hard on him lately, but it’s been hard on me, too. But I didn’t turn to the first thing swinging. Guys step to me all the time, but I have always proudly told them I’m flattered, but I’m married. Not once did I think about cheating on Marlon! Obviously he doesn’t have the same kind of conviction I do. He crushed me, Gina. He pissed me off and crushed me at the same time…”

  She turned away from me and toward the wall-to-wall mirror in the bathroom as she took another tissue to dry her eyes. We stood in silence as she tried to regain her composure – losing it over and over again as the unbelievable sorrow she felt poured out. It was hard to watch.

  “So what are you gonna’ do, Vette?”I wondered if this was her rock bottom or whether she would be willing to suck it up and give Marlon another chance.

  “That’s the problem. I don’t know what to do. I know what I want to do, but I don’t know if it would be the right thing to do. Oh God, I sound like an idiot!”

  Vette took a deep breath, leaned over the sink, splashed some cool water on her face and tried to refocus. She continued after patting her face dry with a brown paper towel from the dispenser attached to the wall.

  “My feelings are all over the place. The good Christian side of me says, as his wife I am supposed to be understanding, to forgive and forget and try to work things out. The rational part of me says that I have more to consider than just my own feelings. We have children - small children - who love their father. If I leave him or put his ass out that changes everything - not just for me, but for them as well.”

  Yvette began to wipe her face more slowly; much more methodically. Her typically bright eyes became slits as she peered at herself in the mirror.

  “But the other side of me…the woman in me…the bitch in me….says enough is enough...”

  I had seen the look in her eyes before. It was the same look I saw in Zenobia’s eyes when she decided she wasn’t going to be a victim anymore. It was the same look I see every time I look in the mirror and think about what Mac has done to me. It’s THE look – the one that says I’m tired and I ain’t taking this shit no more…