“He’s good with her,” Jersey defends, so unlike her when it comes to formidable men. “At first, I was skeptical because he’s an intimidating man, but with her, he’s a teddy bear. So kind, caring, and patient. When she asks questions, he helps her find the answers for herself. It’s an attribute I’ve come to admire, even if he still scares the crap out of me.”
“But you knew him when you were younger, didn’t you?” Zoey questions.
“I did. Somewhat. I latched onto him because he made me feel safe. I knew if I was in the same room as he was, he’d never let those stronger than me hurt me. I didn’t need to be his friend for him to protect me. He didn’t even know that’s what he was doing because I didn’t want him to. I was petrified of him finding out that it’s what I needed from him back then. Now, I’m afraid of letting him know that I was vulnerable and used him for that.”
“He’s a good guy, he just doesn’t know how or care to show that to outsiders,” Letti says, joining us at the table. “He helpedme get over all of the things that were holding me back from becoming who I am today.”
Jersey, now enthralled with Letti’s story, leans forward, asking, “How so?”
“My parents aren’t good people. They did deplorable things to me, my siblings, and other unsuspecting people. After I was taken and violated, I was lost and blamed myself for everything I survived. I thought I did something to cause everyone to come at me. I believed with every part of my soul that I was unlovable, and hated every patch of skin that covered my bones. I felt like a quilt that had pieces of flesh stitched together so my outside wasn’t as ugly as my inside was. I wanted revenge on everyone that ever touched me, but my viking, he helped me see that living my best life where I’m happy is the best revenge of all. Because they’re all still miserable, living in a ramshackle shed while I’m swimming in the pot of gold at the end of a rainbow.”
“So your sweet revenge is the fact that you’re happy,” Jersey surmises.
“Yes. I have a family that cares about me. Down to their core. A man who’d lay down his life for me and only wants to see a smile on my face when he comes home each night. Friends who’d stand in front of me and fight battles that aren’t theirs. All of that means I’ve won. Don’t y’all think?”
“I do,” I admit, swiping the tears from my face that fell when she was describing how she’s become a better person thanks to all the people who’ve taken her in and made them part of this family.
“We all do,” Zoey states as she reaches across the table and lays her hand over Letti’s. “You’re so damn strong, Letti. And you’reright, you won without having to lift a finger. All you had to do was love yourself and the people who love you back.”
“That’s the revenge I want,” Jersey whispers.
“And you’re on the right track to getting there,” I remind my friend. “Look at every woman at this table, Jersey. I’m not the only one here who cares about you. I’m not the only one who wants to see you succeed. We’re all here for you, with you, and we each have a set of pom poms in our hands so we can cheer you on.”
“Thank you,” Jersey cries, covering her face with her hands. “I want to be strong. I really do. So why do I feel so weak and pathetic?”
“Because you’re going through two stages simultaneously,” Van pipes up and says as she bounces little G in her lap. “Grief and anger.”
“Grief?” Jersey inquires, wiping her cheeks off with the hem of her top.
“You’re grieving what could’ve been if you’d had good parents, Jersey,” Van explains.
“Mama!” Elodie shouts as she stands at the mouth of the kitchen, fists planted on her hips. She looks like she’s in beast mode which has me hiding my smirk. Her eyes volley between us as she asks, “Why’s everyone crying? If someone made you cry, Miss Jersey, I’ll get Uncle Icer to beat them up!”
Jersey giggles before commenting, “I made myself cry, Elodie.”
Elodie’s hands fly up in the air as she announces, “I’m glad I’m not a grown up. Y’all are weird.” She gives us all a narrow-eyed stare as she turns around and starts marching out of the room.“My show is over, I need another one to watch. Who’s gonna fix that for me?”
“I’m gonna shoot Indiana,” Zoey claims, scooting back her chair. “She kept watching the same show over and over again so he told her she wasn’t allowed to touch the remote. Guess what that means?”
“That you’ve become the remote?” Van asks, looking amused.
“Ding, ding, ding,” Zoey chants as she marches out of the room behind her daughter.
“Some days I can’t wait until little man can talk, and then days like this happen and I hope it doesn’t for a very long time,” Van muses.
Since the men went straight from their meeting to outside, the women and I decided to make it a girl’s day. We kept Elodie amused with videos, coloring books, and games on her tablet as we painted our toenails, applied masks to our faces, and gossiped like old hens.
I never experienced something like this before, other women made me wary, most of the women I’ve known were during my high school and college days, which means if you weren’t part of a clique, you didn’t exist and they were bitches to you for it.
It was a cycle, a toxic one that I never wanted any part of. But this group of women, they have zero judgment and accept you for who you are, not for what you can give them and that’s a breath of fresh air.
Right now, we’re playing a game where the narrator questions and you have to fill in the blanks with a card in your hand that you drew from a stack. I’ve never laughed so hard as I am right now from some of the responses. They’re quacky, just as they’re intended to be which means there’s not a dry eye between any of us.
“My stomach hurts,” Jersey announces, clutching it with her hands. “I can’t believe you answered that with a high heel, Van.”
“I couldn’t resist using it,” Van replies, laughing.
“It was a good choice,” I utter. “How much longer do you think it’ll be before the guys get back?”
