White Lines III by Tracy Brown Page B

on. She took Gladys’s advice to Mercedes, and took a deep breath herself. Opening her eyes, her voice was calmer when she spoke again. “It’s a good chance for us to have a talk about what’s been happening around here.” Mercedes left the room and ran upstairs to clean her face and to get her belongings. Marisol took the opportunity to address Sunny.
    â€œYou better have a talk with her, Sunny. Today! With no one else around. Just you and her, the way it’s always been. She needs to hear from you about what happened. She needs to be able to yell at you , and get mad at you , and tell you how she feels. So when she gets back here today, you make it happen. And I’m not fucking around, either!” Steamed, Marisol angrily swept up the glass, tied up the garbage, and marched upstairs to get her car keys.
    Sunny looked over at Jada and threw up her hands in defeat. “Well,” she said. “Guess who really fucked up this time?”
    â€œYou . ” Jada shook her head.

 
    8
    HEART TO HEART
    Once Marisol and Mercedes had gone, Sunny and Jada sat down on stools perched around the island in the center of the kitchen. Sunny opened the fridge and snatched the container of orange juice. She was clearly still upset. She slammed the juice down on the counter and grabbed two glasses out of the cupboard.
    â€œMercedes is all upset,” she muttered. “She has enough shit to deal with, and now these fuckin’ Douglases want to come sniffing around trying to get their hands on Dorian’s money. They kill me!”
    Sunny sat down, but her hands kept moving, busying themselves with sweeping up miniscule crumbs, straightening the napkins in the dispenser, repositioning the salt and pepper shakers.
    Jada watched her. Twisting the top off of the orange juice, she poured some into each of their glasses, her heart breaking the whole time. It was like looking in a mirror and seeing herself all those years ago when she was strung out but convinced that she still had it all under control. Jada had once believed that all of her troubles were someone else’s fault. Hearing Sunny singing the same song made her sad. When she was done pouring the juice, Jada sipped hers slowly while she listened to Sunny rambling. After a couple of minutes, she couldn’t stand it anymore.
    â€œSunny,” she said. “Calm down for a minute.”
    â€œCalm down?” Sunny repeated, incredulously. She scoffed as if the very notion was unimaginable. She had to keep going—and going fast. Because if she stopped and considered the enormity of her situation—her arrest, Malcolm’s abandonment, the shakedown by the authorities, the ambush by the tabloids, her daughter’s disappointment, her family’s judgment, the public scrutiny, Dorian’s family’s threat to fight for custody of Mercedes … If she allowed herself to calm down like Jada suggested, she might fall completely apart.
    â€œI can’t.” Sunny rubbed her arms, suddenly cold despite the warm June temperature.
    Jada watched her closely. Sunny stared absently at her hands while she chattered on about the conditions in the Mexican jail. She knew Sunny well enough to discern that she was unraveling. Jada had never seen her like this. She was angry, anxious, scared to death, and fighting for control all at once. Gone was the fun-loving life of the party Sunny had once been. In her place was a woman broken by her own choices. Jada stared at Sunny until her gaze bore into her. Sunny looked up. The friends locked eyes, and Sunny saw sympathy in Jada’s brown eyes.
    Jada offered a weak smile. “You know I’ve been there,” she said.
    Sunny laughed a bit too loud. “You’ve been in a Mexican jail cell?”
    Jada wasn’t laughing. “No. But, I know exactly what you’re going through.”
    Tears welled in Sunny’s eyes. She let out a long sigh to fight them