were dead. Why didn’t you contact me?” Apple said, laughing to keep from almost crying.
Apple cared for Thelma’s husband, because during their brief affair, he didn’t treat her like a piece of meat. He listened to her when she spoke about her childhood. She remembered everything that had been done to her and he really listened and tried to convince her she hadn’t done anything wrong.
“It was not her fault, you were a child,” he would say.
Thelma looked up at the woman addressing her husband as if they were still lovers.
Her eyes bored through Apple’s but her question was directed at her husband.
“Aren’t you going to answer the woman?”
Martin couldn’t speak. He couldn’t believe Apple was there, making a scene like that.
Apple stumbled past Thelma to sit in Martin’s lap. Before he could do anything, she planted an open mouthed kiss on his lips. “Why didn’t you call me?” she asked, cradling his head in her bosom.
Before Thelma could dive in their direction with her one leg, Dexter bolted out of his seat.
He put one hand on Thelma’s shoulder to keep her in her chair and the other he used to hoist his sister out of Martin’s lap.
“Come on, sis,” Dexter said, apologizing to Thelma with his eyes. “You’ve had enough, let’s get you home.”
Dexter decided then and there his sister was getting some help, whether she liked it or not. What their father had done to her and what their mother had chosen not to see was hurting her, eating her alive, and she didn’t even know it.
He thought about the comments he’d made to Cynthia. He was so caught up in his own hurt that he had neglected to be there, fully, for Apple. He didn’t realize it until that moment. He was her brother, and he would not abandon her. She was getting help, if he had to sit on her in every session.
Apple was a good person; she was just hurting, that’s all.
Thelma looked around as if she were looking for Carson. She didn’t want him to see the commotion.
“He’s playing in the side yard. I see him,” Cynthia said, coming to stand by her friend.
After Dexter drove off with Apple, Thelma began to talk. Martin sat in silence as his wife studied him.
The truth was, he hadn’t had any dealings with Apple that his wife didn’t already know about. And that was a long time ago.
“Thelma, you have to believe me,” he finally said. “I didn’t do anything.”
“I know,” she said. “I know that. But as God is my witness, I was planning to get rid of you on this trip,” Thelma admitted.
She felt lighter just saying the words out loud.
“What?” Martin finally spoke, staring at her in disbelief. “What do you mean?”
“I was considering killing you, Martin; you and eventually that woman, too. I had it all planned out, as God is my witness,” Thelma said, her voice low and achy, almost apologetic.
Cynthia thought about the Google cache.
“I don’t believe I would have gone through with it, but that crash was a blessing in disguise all the same.”
Martin was speechless for a long few seconds. “But I didn’t do anything,” he finally said.
“I know that now,” she said. “Not this time, but you did initially, and it still hurts.”
“I know,” he said.
“No, you don’t .” Her voice was filled with pain. “It’s still in there, and though we’ve moved on like everything is okay, I want you to know, it’s still in there , Martin,” she pressed her hand to her chest.
“I’m sorry, honey,” he said, reaching for her hand. “I’m not perfect.”
Thelma placed her hand in his. “I’m sorry, too,” she said looking at him. “You always remind me of that. Well I’m not perfect either. I’ve got some issues that I still struggle with.”
She thought about her mother and father.
Martin knew what she meant. His
Apple cared for Thelma’s husband, because during their brief affair, he didn’t treat her like a piece of meat. He listened to her when she spoke about her childhood. She remembered everything that had been done to her and he really listened and tried to convince her she hadn’t done anything wrong.
“It was not her fault, you were a child,” he would say.
Thelma looked up at the woman addressing her husband as if they were still lovers.
Her eyes bored through Apple’s but her question was directed at her husband.
“Aren’t you going to answer the woman?”
Martin couldn’t speak. He couldn’t believe Apple was there, making a scene like that.
Apple stumbled past Thelma to sit in Martin’s lap. Before he could do anything, she planted an open mouthed kiss on his lips. “Why didn’t you call me?” she asked, cradling his head in her bosom.
Before Thelma could dive in their direction with her one leg, Dexter bolted out of his seat.
He put one hand on Thelma’s shoulder to keep her in her chair and the other he used to hoist his sister out of Martin’s lap.
“Come on, sis,” Dexter said, apologizing to Thelma with his eyes. “You’ve had enough, let’s get you home.”
Dexter decided then and there his sister was getting some help, whether she liked it or not. What their father had done to her and what their mother had chosen not to see was hurting her, eating her alive, and she didn’t even know it.
He thought about the comments he’d made to Cynthia. He was so caught up in his own hurt that he had neglected to be there, fully, for Apple. He didn’t realize it until that moment. He was her brother, and he would not abandon her. She was getting help, if he had to sit on her in every session.
Apple was a good person; she was just hurting, that’s all.
Thelma looked around as if she were looking for Carson. She didn’t want him to see the commotion.
“He’s playing in the side yard. I see him,” Cynthia said, coming to stand by her friend.
After Dexter drove off with Apple, Thelma began to talk. Martin sat in silence as his wife studied him.
The truth was, he hadn’t had any dealings with Apple that his wife didn’t already know about. And that was a long time ago.
“Thelma, you have to believe me,” he finally said. “I didn’t do anything.”
“I know,” she said. “I know that. But as God is my witness, I was planning to get rid of you on this trip,” Thelma admitted.
She felt lighter just saying the words out loud.
“What?” Martin finally spoke, staring at her in disbelief. “What do you mean?”
“I was considering killing you, Martin; you and eventually that woman, too. I had it all planned out, as God is my witness,” Thelma said, her voice low and achy, almost apologetic.
Cynthia thought about the Google cache.
“I don’t believe I would have gone through with it, but that crash was a blessing in disguise all the same.”
Martin was speechless for a long few seconds. “But I didn’t do anything,” he finally said.
“I know that now,” she said. “Not this time, but you did initially, and it still hurts.”
“I know,” he said.
“No, you don’t .” Her voice was filled with pain. “It’s still in there, and though we’ve moved on like everything is okay, I want you to know, it’s still in there , Martin,” she pressed her hand to her chest.
“I’m sorry, honey,” he said, reaching for her hand. “I’m not perfect.”
Thelma placed her hand in his. “I’m sorry, too,” she said looking at him. “You always remind me of that. Well I’m not perfect either. I’ve got some issues that I still struggle with.”
She thought about her mother and father.
Martin knew what she meant. His
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