His Third Wife

“Stop it!” Jamison went to the steps to come between the women. “You know you haven’t been feeling well. You don’t have any business being out of bed—let alone out here starting something. I told Val she could get her things.”

Mrs. Taylor pointed at Jamison like he was a boy. “No way she’s coming here.”

“It’s not that serious. You’re acting like I’m here to steal something,” Val said. “Ain’t shit in here I want but my stuff.”

“How do I know what you want and what you don’t want?” Mrs. Taylor said. “Might get a case of the old sticky fingers like your mama.”

“Don’t you say nothing about my mama!”

And those were fighting words. Val had cocked back her fist and she had every intention of punching Mrs. Taylor in her mouth.

But the baby boy was there to hold the blow.

“Ya’ll stop this, now!” Jamison said. “This is crazy. It’s my house and I am not having this.”

Val tried to pull away from Jamison, but soon she was calmer.

Mrs. Taylor wasn’t budging though. She’d balled her fists and was ready to rumble.

“I ain’t moving,” she said to Jamison. “She ain’t coming up here. She might’ve made a jackass out of you, but now she’s at the bull and the bull gonna charge.”

“Mama!” Jamison let go of Val’s hand and pushed himself between her and Mrs. Taylor. “Look, what if we compromise?”

“What? How?” Mrs. Taylor asked.

“I can get Val’s things for her and she can wait downstairs where you can see her,” Jamison suggested. “That work?”

“Humph.” Mrs. Taylor rolled her eyes to show she was still annoyed but softening.

“Val?” Jamison turned to Val.

“I just want my stuff,” Val said. “I don’t care if a blue leprechaun comes in here to get it, I just want all of my stuff.”

“Okay.” Jamison turned back to his mother and her rolling eyes and muttered expletives. “Mama? You okay with that?”

“I suppose.”

Before going up to the bedroom with three trash bags, Jamison shored up his arrangement by leading Val to the couch and making his mother promise him she’d stay at the top of the stairs. It wasn’t the best idea, but being a man who wanted this to just be over, it was all he had to work with.

Before he could get one bag filled, Mrs. Taylor found something she couldn’t resist saying to the woman at the bottom of the steps. She felt it was okay to share her thoughts, no matter how ugly they were, as she hadn’t broken her promise to Jamison—yet.

“Funny how you’re making an escape in a car my son bought. Seems like you’d have your own car to drive off in. Was your name even on the lease for that car?” Mrs. Taylor teased.

Val didn’t respond. She was becoming familiar with the bait.

“Oh, you don’t have to respond, dear. Trust me, you don’t. I’ll find out. And I’ll make sure my baby gets that car right on back.” Mrs. Taylor laughed. “And where are you going?” She paused for a response, but only gave it a second. “Probably right back to the strip club where Jamison found you. Or maybe with the man in the gray car. Or maybe that man in the gray car is taking you to the strip club! Wasn’t he your pimp?”

Something inside of Val came crumbling down when faced with a secret she’d whispered to Jamison when they were alone. The little comment took her right to her past. Put her back in that place where she felt like she was never going to get what she expected or deserved. Kept her believing she’d never been enough and never would be.

Mrs. Taylor was laughing loudly and going hard at Val about whatever came to mind and might tick the woman off.

“Yeah, you can sit down there and act like you don’t hear me if you want to, but I’ll tell you what, I made good on my promise, didn’t I?”

Val didn’t respond.

“I told you that night that I was cleaning house. Sure did. Didn’t I?” Mrs. Taylor laughed. “Couldn’t have my baby up in here with this bullshit. Had to make things right. Get things in order. That’s what a real mother does. Guess you’ll have to wait to find that out.” Mrs. Taylor lowered her voice to something above a sigh, and Val thought she heard her say, “Glad I took care of that.”

“What did you say?” Val shouted so loudly Jamison almost heard her in the bedroom. And had he been paying attention, he might’ve taken that as his cue to stop packing and take whatever he had in his hands downstairs to get Val away from his mother as quickly as possible.