Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 24098 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 120(@200wpm)___ 96(@250wpm)___ 80(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24098 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 120(@200wpm)___ 96(@250wpm)___ 80(@300wpm)
We stand as the middle-aged woman approaches. I can see that there are new lines and wrinkles around Jeannie’s eyes and mouth, but otherwise, it’s still the same woman.
“Hi Mom,” Cleo says in a hesitant voice. “It’s nice to see you.”
Jeannie doesn’t hesitate, pulling Cleo into a hug.
“Hey you,” she says in a strong voice. “I missed you! You too, Brody,” she says before letting go. “Now let’s bust this joint because I’ve been here long enough already.”
With that, we exit the prison and get into my truck. Jeannie straps herself into the backseat, and then we’re off to a nearby diner for lunch. It’s a little surreal, really, because I’ve made love to both women in the vehicle, and yet it doesn’t feel wrong. I guess my marriage to Jeannie was so long ago that it almost doesn’t matter anymore.
Soon, we’re settled into a booth at the diner, and that’s when things begin to feel a little stilted. I mean, how do you ask about someone’s prison stay? Cleo shifts awkwardly as she tries find something to talk about that’s not too heavy.
“So Mom, how are you? Are you healthy?” Cleo questions quietly, hesitation dripping from the words as if she’s afraid to venture too far.
Jeannie smiles, waving her hand.
“Don’t be scared, sweetie, because prison wasn’t so bad. I learned a whole lot while I was in there, and hell, didn’t Martha Stewart serve time too? Come to think of it, I think everyone should spend some time behind bars just for the experience.”
Cleo is quiet for a few moments as she picks at an invisible piece of lint on her jeans.
“Right. So did you get enough to eat in there?” she asks, grasping at potential topics of conversation.
But Jeannie is totally comfortable and laughs, nodding her head. “Yeah. I can’t say that the food was a five star dining experience but there was enough of it to go around. And it wasn’t so bad. Most importantly, I had some time to contemplate what I’ve done wrong in life, and I promise, I’ll make it up to you, sweetheart,” she says in a fervent tone, taking Cleo’s hand.
My girl immediately looks up, eyes startled.
“Oh, you don’t have to make it up to me, Mom. I’m totally fine. Brody took me in for Christmas break, and he’s been a huge support ever since.”
Then, my sweet girl shoots me a panicked look because we don’t want to reveal our relationship to Jeannie just yet. The woman just got out of prison, and deserves some time to acclimatize herself before we drop that bomb.
But Jeannie merely nods and smiles.
“Good, good. I’m glad you guys were there for each other because I’ve realized that friends can make a huge difference in life. I made some friends while I was on the inside as well,” she says in a meaningful tone. “You have to, to stay alive at a place like Lockwood.”
Oh shit, where are we going with this?
“You mean, gangs?” asks Cleo hesitantly. “Because it’s dangerous on the inside, right?”
Jeannie nods.
“Yeah, definitely. A women’s prison is no walk in the park, honey. You got to protect yourself, but I learned how. I made some friends, I worked out, I got a couple new tattoos, and I used my secret weapon.”
We both stare at her.
“What do you mean?” I ask in a careful tone. “Like being friendly with some of the guards? Trading credits for food?”
Jeannie lets out a bark of genuinely amused laughter.
“No, this,” she says, searching around in her pocket for something before pulling out a small vial of grayish liquid.
Cleo immediately pulls away, gasping.
“What is that?” she demands. “Heroin? Fentanyl? What?”
Jeannie rolls her eyes.
“No, nothing like that, but there is a black-market trade in the women’s prison—”
“OMG, Mom,” Cleo gasps. “Please tell me that you’re not some kind of prison drug lord now—”
Jeannie waves her hand while chuckling.
“Oh, relax. Don’t go getting your panties in a twist!” she admonishes. “No, this isn’t like that. I mean, it’s a drug, but nothing crazy or anything.”
This time, I step in.
“Okay, so what is it? MDMA? Ecstasy? Adderall?”
Jeannie snorts.
“You two are so fucking suspicious, you know that? No, it’s just laxatives, you know the stuff that makes you take a shit. It’s great for spontaneous bowel movements.”
We stare at one another before looking back at the middle-aged woman.
“This was your secret weapon?” Cleo asks in a slow voice.
Jeannie nods happily, her ponytail bobbing.
“Hell yeah! It’s all homemade too, using just a bit of sweet potato skin, some fiber supplements, and my secret ingredient,” she winks. “I’d cook it up in my cell, and trust me, this stuff is the serious ju-ju.”
Cleo and I are still staring at the middle-aged woman.
“But how did you use it?”
Jeannie shrugs.
“Whenever someone would diss me or try to start something, I’d just force-feed them these laxatives. You know I got jacked at the prison gym, right? So it wasn’t too hard to force their mouths open, and then you just pinch their noses until they have to swallow.”