We Were Us (4 page)

I had meant to go in for a kiss but at the last second chickened out. Instead I slipped my arms around his waist and pressed my cheek to his chest. The woody scent of his cologne invaded my nose leaving me longing for more than just a hug. His hands moved around my back and tangled into my hair. I looked up at him still pressed against him. He wasn’t looking at me, but staring off into the darkness. I rested my chin on his chest. He looked down at me and kissed my forehead. My mouth was jealous.

“Goodnight Jenna,” he said softly in my ear.

I shivered. Did he know how much I still liked him? How much I still wanted him? I had barely been here a week and I was already falling back under his spell.

CHAPTER FIVE

Dad called me to tell me that someone would be out early next week to hook up the cable and internet. I loved him for doing this for me. I’d feel connected to the world again. Not that I minded being tucked away happily oblivious to what was happening elsewhere, but I missed TV. I missed Supernatural and schmexy Dean Winchester. I could watch him all day. Sometimes I did.

He also mentioned that Mom had called him. She’d heard that I was back in Riverview and she wanted me to go see her. I rolled my eyes several times during that conversation. I really didn’t want to do see her. I’d severed all ties with her the day I’d left, I hadn’t written, called her, or contacted her in any way since then. He told me I really should, or at least go to the jail and change her contact number from his to mine. He was able to answer the phone this time, but didn’t want to think about what might happen if Linda answered next time. That would have been catastrophic.

I threw on jeans and a white tank top, slipped into an old pair of silver flip-flops and headed to the county jail. I’d been there once. It was the day after she’d been caught with the mayor. I’d spent the night in protective custody at the police station after several hours of questioning. The social worker thought it would be good for me to visit one last time. It hadn’t gone well. She had accused me of setting her up and said I was the real slut and drug dealer. Of course, no one believed her.

At one time, my mom had tried to be a good mom. Really. She’d provided for me the best she could. But I either became too much for her to deal with, or the drugs just took over every aspect of her life, that it made it impossible for her to think about anyone or anything else. When I turned sixteen, it had gotten ten times worse. At first, she wanted me to join her because apparently a mother/daughter team could make much more money. Of course, I said no. I was a good student and I actually wanted to attend college. I did not want her life or to be stuck in this small town forever.

After my refusal, she was bitter and nasty. She insulted me any and every time she saw me. My clothes, my hair, my body, school; anything was a target for her. Her words cut deep, but Michelle was my savior, my voice of reason. I’d cry on her bed and she’d comfort me. She’d tell me I was beautiful and smart. Michelle would let me stay with her as long as I wanted. I’d leave early for school and pick her up along the way, then stay late at her house after school and softball practice. Sometimes I’d have to sneak in and out so her parents wouldn’t see me.

Eventually I learned to ignore my mother’s words. They held no value for me and I was determined more than ever to not become like her and leave this town.

I pulled into the unkempt parking lot trying unsuccessfully to avoid the potholes. Grass grew in the giant cracks on the sidewalk leading up to the door. The building itself was in decent condition, white stucco. It probably covered a broken brick façade.

The door didn’t open when I pulled it. It must be locked. Duh. There was a small red button just to the left of the handle so I pushed it.

“Marion County Prison. Who are you here to see?” The voice crackled and clicked.

“Um. Kim Teller. I’m her daughter. Jenna Mitchell.”

“Pull the door when you hear the buzz.” An atrociously loud buzz sounded. Birds fluttered away from the field across the way. A volcano probably erupted. I pulled open the door and walked in. There was another set of doors that was locked, but as soon as the door behind me shut, another buzzer sounded so I pulled on the second set of doors and it opened. There was a huge 1970’s inspired reception desk in front of me. Dark wood paneling, a Formica top.

“Can I help you?” The bored receptionist inquired.

“Yes. I’m Jenna Mitchell. I’m here to see my mom Kim Teller.”

“Do you have an appointment?”

“Oh, no. I didn’t know I needed one. My dad told me she wanted to see me, so I just drove over here.”

“Hang on.” She picked up the tan colored phone and relayed the information I’d given her. She pushed the horn-rimmed glasses up on her nose while she waited for the information on the other end. Did we go back in time? Was this 1970?

“Have a seat,” she said motioning toward the plastic chairs lining the adjacent wall.

I didn’t wait long. A fat police officer waddled through a door I hadn’t noticed before.

“Ms. Mitchell?”

“Yes.”

“Follow me.”

We walked down a long white hallway with doors and windows. I peered in some. People sat in high back chairs and stared at computer screens. Offices I guess. We went through another set of doors that required us to stand uncomfortably close while we waited for them to unlock.

“This way.” He motioned for me to follow him.

There wasn’t any other way to go but straight. I followed him to the end of the hallway, then right into a room with old school desks and a few tables and chairs. Another police officer sat behind a huge metal teacher’s desk. Only half the fluorescent lights were lit, casting a dim glow over the room.

“Have a seat. We’ll bring your mom in.”

Okay then. I sat at a small table with two chairs opposite each other. Last time I’d seen my mother she was on the other side of some Plexiglas and spoken to her on a phone.

“Last time I had to talk to her through Plexiglas. I don’t have to do that now?” I asked the officer at the desk.

“No. Her restrictions have changed since then. She can have supervised visits in a visitation room.”

“Gotcha.”

A million years passed before the fat officer returned to the suffocating room with my mother in tow. She was hidden behind him at first then he moved to the side and I was met with crazy. My mother looked crazy. She kind of always did, but she kept herself neat and presentable for the public. I mean, as presentable as a drug-dealing whore could look. Now, her normally sleek ringlet curls were a spirally, tangled mess. She was rail thin, and her skin was thin and pasty.

“Jenna. You came. You look fat,” she croaked. Like really croaked. She sounded as awful as she looked.

I just sighed heavily. Not even thirty seconds in and she had already flung an insult at me.

She hobbled over to the table and sat in the chair across from me. A pang of sympathy passed over my heart as I watched her struggling to pull out the chair. My mother was in her early forties, but she looked as though she was pushing eighty. She didn’t seem to be bothered by her appearance though. She looked over at the desk officer and winked at him. I rolled my eyes.

“Well you look…” I couldn’t be mean. Well I could, but the sight of her blocked my brain from thinking of anything else but how awful she looked.

“I look like shit Jenna, but at least I’m not fat.” Good lord I had better make this visit quick.

“Okay then.”

“Why are you back in town? There’s nothing left for you here.”

“I’m just back for summer break. I’m in college now Mom.”

“Yeah I heard that. Why?”

“So I can be better than you.”

“You are a quippy one, aren’t you?” She sat back in her chair and winked at the officer again.

I wondered if she was hoping I’d failed at whatever she’d thought I’d been doing for the last year and a half and wanted me to start up in the ‘family business. Well, I had news for her. Not only was I not failing, I was thriving. I was at the top of my class at Brookhaven College, I was starting first base player for their softball team, and I had two great friendships there too. My life was far from failure.

Not that I could tell her any of that and she would care. She’d say I was showing off. I studied her for a minute. I had her eyes. They were once a bright hunter green color, but they had dulled and were sunken into her face, half hidden under her eyebrows. While her hair was blonde and natural curly, I’d gotten my board straight, brown hair from my dad. I stared at her, but she barely looked at me. Her eyes flitted around the room looking at everything but me. She winked at the officer assigned to babysit us. He was tall and thin with dark hair and bright blue eyes. He reminded me of Andrew except for the eyes. He was sitting behind the old metal desk, leaning back in the office chair with his legs propped up on the desktop.

When she winked at him a second time, I slammed my hand on the table between us. I was not here to watch her flirt with her prison guards.

“Mom,” I said loud enough to focus her attention back on me.

“What? He’s cute. And young.”

“Oh God mom. Is that all you think about?”

“Honey, I’ve got nothing better to do in here than think about all the things I’d like to do to these fine young men.” She winked at the officer again.

“You should do him. He’s cute. You might be too fat though. No one likes a fat whore.” The officer grunted and shifted again.

“Mom. Stop. I came to see you because Dad told me to. There’s a reason I haven’t visited you since you were booked and you’re displaying that reason now.”

“Oh Jenna, unwind your panties. Take them off and air them out for a while.”

I hung my head in embarrassment and shame.

“Are you living in the house?” she asked me quietly. I picked my head up and looked at her. She’d leaned close to me on the desk and hunched her shoulders.

“Yeah.”

“Have you gone in my room?” She whispered.

“No,” I said back in a normal voice.

She leaned in closer and wiggled her finger at me to do the same.

“Under my bed is…”

“I don’t want to know.” I knew exactly what she was going to tell me and I didn’t want to know. “It’s going in the trash!” I hissed at her.

“You will not. It’s a grand’s worth at least. Probably more now.”

“Trash. It’s going in the trash and we’re done.” I stood to leave. The grunty officer stood too and moved around the desk.

“Jenna please. I’ll get it out of the house, just don’t get rid of it.”

I didn’t want to hear anymore. I don’t know what I was expecting when I visited. I was fine with the insults, I’d learned to ignore those, but asking me to participate in her twisted life by passing along some kind of drug mule was unacceptable.

“I’m done. Take her back.”

The fat officer met me at the door and we walked back down the sterile hallway. All kinds of scenarios raced through my mind. I didn’t even want to think about drugs hiding in my house. I had to get rid of them before something bad happened. Would my mom make a phone call and tell on me? Surely, I couldn’t get in trouble for this. I didn’t even know it was there. I hadn’t even been in her room! I hated that I was sleeping in that house. Who knew what else was in there.

I got up to leave after my mom had been taken out of the room. The tall, thin officer followed close behind me until we were in the hallway.

“Sorry about my mom.” I said to him.

“It’s okay that kind of thing happens all the time.”

“Prisoners flirt with you all the time.”

“Yes.” He laughed.

There was a shuffle at the end of the hall and we both turned to see what it was.

“Jenna!” She yelled from the end of the hall. “You are my daughter. Please…”

“No. No.” I didn’t even let her finish. I stalked off in the opposite direction leaving her and the tall officer behind me. I needed to get out of here quickly.

I burst through the front doors of the jailhouse completely ignoring the receptionist when she said bye to me. Even though the air outside was stiflingly hot, it was not as suffocating as the air inside. I took a few deep breaths before getting into my car.

The drugs were on my mind the entire way home. I slammed open the door to the house and stomped to her bedroom door. I stood there in front of it like an idiot. I couldn’t make my hand open the door. My mind raced back to the times I’d be curled up in bed and I’d hear her escapades through the wall. I moved my bed to the opposite wall. It didn’t really help. Eventually I bought an iPod with earphones and learned to sleep with music blasting through my brain.

Ugh. I forced my hand to turn the knob and push the door open. It swung wide knocking loose some cobwebs. Great, spiders. I loved spiders. Not really. I surveyed the room from the doorway. It was surprisingly clean. Dust had settled on everything. Her bed stood on a frame only, no head or footboard. The comforter was scrunched to the end of the bed. She’d probably been with someone before she went to the mayor’s house and hurried them out. I knew that she and Michelle’s dad were found at his house though so it wasn’t him.

The carpet was stained like it was in the rest of the house. I didn’t even want to begin to think about what each stain could be. I’d have to touch the carpet if I wanted to see what was under the bed. No. I quickly ran to my room and searched for some gloves. I found some flimsy cotton winter gloves in my sock drawer. Good enough. I didn’t want my fingerprints on whatever was under there anyway.

I returned to my mom’s room and walked right in. The cigarette smell was strong in here. I hadn’t aired it out like the rest of the house. I knelt down at the foot of the bed and looked under the bed. I didn’t see anything. I pulled out my phone and turned on the flashlight and shone it around the edge of the box spring.