Black Mariah: Morris, Indiana (Black Mariah Series, Season 1) by Marie D. Jones & Black Mariah Collective

Author:Marie D. Jones & Black Mariah Collective [Jones, Marie D.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781645481058
Publisher: Black Spot Books
Published: 2021-07-08T22:00:00+00:00

7

Siri walked into the kitchen, yawning.

Jolene sat alone at the table and waved at Siri to sit down.

“It’s about time you and I cleared the air, Siri,” Jolene said.

“Do you really think now is the time for this, Jo?” Siri asked, her voice trembling.

“Oh, gee, Siri, I tell you what. Let’s wait until all this is over and we are back in our homes, safe and sound, and then I can tell you over coffee how fucking much I hate you for sleeping with my husband. Would that work better for you?” Jolene’s voice rose, high pitched with rage.

“There was a lot more to it than that, Jo, and you know it.” Siri’s voice was level, but barely above a whisper.

“Tell me how much more to it there was? You fucked my husband while our son lay dying in a hospital. You fucked my husband while our son lay dead in a casket. How much more to it was there, Siri? How long were you guys going at it, anyway? Months? Years? Did you have any sympathy at all for me or my child?” Jolene hissed.

Gordon stood in the entryway, folding his arms.

“You two, this may not be the best time to hash things out. We need to stick together and the little one is just in the other room,” Gordon said, eyeing the two women.

“You know what, Gordon? You can all go fuck yourself. I’m out of here,” Jolene said, getting up so quick her chair went flying back into the cabinets behind her. She stormed out of the room and down the hall into an empty bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

Jolene slumped to the floor, shaking, fighting back tears. Her face was red with rage and shame and disgust. She grabbed some toilet paper and held it to her eyes, sobbing, letting the tears come now.

There was a timid knock on the door, more of a tap, tap, tap. Jolene stopped crying and looked over at the door handle, half expecting Gordon or Siri to come in without asking.

Someone slipped a piece of paper under the door. Jolene heard footsteps walking away, small footsteps. Mags.

She reached over for the piece of paper, which was folded. She unfolded it and put her hand to her mouth, stifling more sobs as she looked at a picture of Mags and her doggy holding Jolene’s hand, walking down a street. At the bottom, Mags had scrawled, “Jo and Me.”

Jolene held the drawing to her chest and cried.

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