From the Ashes of Disaster

Sandy takes a deep breath. Dives into the horrors of the last few weeks, while J. was dying.  Weeks of hospitalization.  A hospital in the city nearly an hour away.  Endorra and Sheila prohibiting her from going to the hospital with the girls, even to comfort them as their father lay dying. And now, she can not be with them when they view his body one last time.

Who makes rules like this?  Were they so interested in showing Sandy who is boss that they would deprive the girls of their mother's comfort and support in their worry and then their loss? 

I can't believe they could still hate her when I had gone and made a yeoman's effort at trumping any offense she may have committed.

"Oh they still hate me. But they may hate you more."

I tell her of the words I exchanged with Sheila when months after I'd sent J. packing, he came into my house. Hacked into my computer and phone records. Called unfamiliar numbers. (Like my assistant!) Denied the whole thing. All after showing up at Girls Weekend, which alone is punishable by castration, frankly.

She retorted, as only the woefully inexperienced arguers will, with some lame statement that his life was in ruins because I welshed on the deal and didn't marry him.

Oh right. That would have solved everything.

But to continue, I mentioned that I'd called her after summoning the police, who were on the way at that very moment. I let her know that despite what he'd told them, I was not a part of his pathetic little life anymore. He was their cross to bear. And make no mistake: If he trespasses on my property I will have him arrested and press charges. He's crazy and has no boundaries. And has a bizarre life-sized tattoo of my face on his leg to prove it.

"Oh. I'd forgotten about the tattoo."

Some of us find it easier to forget than others, evidently.

I check the bathroom door for eavesdroppers and tell her about my panic attack. That the very people who will bury him and have been told to hurl me out of the service on my ass will get a nice view of the ridiculous tattoo on his scrawny leg before he and it are forever laid to rest.

And suddenly we are laughing like old friends.