BRODY
“Take a deep breath, honey,” I soothe in a low voice, patting Cleo’s hand as I park my truck near the entrance of Lockwood Correctional Facility. “It’s fine. Your mom will be happy to see you.”
Cleo nods, her brown eyes wary.
“I hope so,” she says in a quiet voice. “It’s just this is my first time seeing my mom since she first went to lock-up, and I’m not sure what to expect. What if she’s crazy now? It does happen, you know.”
I nod.
“It does, but only occasionally,” I acknowledge. “Besides, prison does funny things to a person, so maybe Jeannie’s changed for the better.”
With that, we get out of the truck and stroll across the parking lot. I take my girl’s hand and squeeze in a show of support. After all, Cleo and I haven’t figured out a way to punish her old suitemates just yet, but we will. It’s merely a matter of when because I don’t let people walk away from a shitstorm without feeling some serious pain.
In the meantime, Jeannie’s getting out of lock-up, and we’re here to pick her up. Maybe my ex will walk the straight and narrow after her experience as a jailbird. Or maybe she’ll be exactly the same, and resume her old habits straightaway. God, I hope not, and for her daughter’s sake, I’m praying for a change.
Cleo takes one last breath before we enter the dull grey building.
“I hope this works out okay.”
I squeeze her hand again.
“It’s going to be fine, sweetheart. I’m sure Jeannie’s a changed woman.”
Cleo merely sighs, her shoulders slumping.
“Changed, as in now Jeannie’s two hundred pounds, bald, and a complete thug? Or changed as in she’s spent her time in prison attending church and now she’s extremely religious and refuses to go anywhere without a Bible, while speaking strictly in psalms?”
I laugh at her joke as we step into the prison, and the first thing that strikes me are the glaringly bright fluorescents. I literally have to shade my eyes as we approach the front desk.
“Don’t worry, it’s going to be fine, sweetheart. You’re not going to know what your mom’s been up to until she comes out, and there’s no sense in getting all worked up about it until then.” With that, we go through what feels like hours of paperwork before being sent to a waiting area with orange and red plastic chairs bolted to the ground. But then, a heavy door opens, and who but Jeannie strolls in.
I blink because actually, my ex looks good. She appears healthy and fit, with her brownish-gray hair pulled into a tight ponytail. She’s wearing street clothes that were probably what she had on when she was nabbed for the crime, but they’re clean and not wrinkled or dirty. Sure, there’s a new tattoo on her hand, but it’s fine.
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.