Green Eyed Monster

Festering Wounds

Lola and I haven't seen each other since we fought. That was over three months ago. Mrs. Tolbert and I no longer speak to one another. Ernest has vowed to never speak to me again. Drake now seemingly has proof he cheated because I'm crazy. Trevor's conflicted. Pinky sided with Lola and stopped speaking to me as well. However, Lola refused to press charges. She told the police she hit me first, it's then our verbal dispute became physical.

Thanksgiving is this Thursday. Trevor's home, but he's spending Thanksgiving with his dad's family this year. Heading out, he kisses me saying, "You're going to be alright?"

    "Yes. I'm fine. Enjoy your family and I'll see you tomorrow." He nods and then leaves.

I look to see who's over to Mrs. Tolbert's today, but she's gone. I guess she went to her son's this year. I light the fireplace as I eat alone. Suddenly I hear a knock at the door. Peeking out my foyer window, I see it's Gypsy. I open the door to her smiling, saying, "Happy Thanksgiving. May I come in?"

    "Sure."

    "I come bearing gifts!"

She sets her picnic basket on my dining table then removes a duck, dressing, a pumpkin pie, green bean casserole, and homemade rolls. I drop my head and start crying. She hugs me saying, "There, there. All is well. C'mon sit down. Let me serve you."

I sit as she combines my turkey, macaroni and cheese, cranberry sauce, and cabbage with her meal. As she's fixing my plate she says, "And I'm not a phony. I'm not going to play stupid, or as if I'm psychic and just happened to come over today. Mrs T gave me her version of the story, so only if you want to talk about it, I'm anxious to hear your side of the story."

Instantly I stop crying and ask, "What'd she say?"

    "She acts as if you're just so psychotic over her grandson. You're new to the neighborhood, but I've been living next to Mrs T more than 15 years now. She knew my husband and I well. She's been obsessed with King since he was a child. I met him when he was only 14. He was a cute little boy, well mannered, but Mrs T's affection towards him just seemed unhealthy to me. She praises his mother today, but while she lived she called her Satan like she does his stepmother now."

    "Funny you say that. It's like once he came I was nothing and my daughter became everything. It's as if she pitted us against each other through her grandson."

    "Interesting observation. I remember the first day King saw Lola. Mrs T told me how beautiful he thought she was.

Gypsy says, "Hi Mrs T. I see King's vacationing with you. That nice."

    "It'd be nicer if he wasn't falling for this beautiful dummy next door."

    "Ha! Ha! ...Who Mae?"

    "No, that degenerate she raised. Her daughter, Lola! Why can't my boys fall in love with real women like us, Gypsy? They're always sniffing after some weak pathetic floozy, who doesn't know how to use neither her head nor twat to get what she wants. But oh well, let me go play nice with this talking bird in lovely woman's clothing."

    "You're horrible Mrs T. Talk to you later."

I sit listening to Gypsy peeved. Learning this old decrepit sow I've been falsely complimenting trying to keep her from committing suicide because she despises being old, has been badmouthing my daughter and me all this time, makes my blood boil. Gypsy stays over past midnight. After all the painful gossip, I still enjoyed her company, grateful I didn't have to spend the holiday alone. I then go to bed.

It's Friday afternoon. Trevor still isn't home so I drive to the beach. I get there and soak in the solitude. The near frozen lake looks picturesque. I hear laughing and to my right, there's a couple huddled up. I watch for a  moment and then look away. I'm getting cold so I head back to my car. I look a few spaces down and I see Solomon's white Mercedes. I'd know my own daughter, and that's not her! I slam my car door and sprint back to where the couple is. They're now headed my way. Bracing up, I call out, "Solomon!"