-1-

Juliana

You're now tuned into the motherfuckin greatest

Cody Grady’s garishly teal Dodge Neon, which he called Rollin’ Stoned, drove like it’s engine was dragging on the road.

He had assured  me that his  two semester of auto shop in high school taught him that nothing was wrong with the 17-year-old car and the best fix for the grating sound was to just blast the radio over it. 

His left hand hung out the open car window to keep the cigarette smoke away from me and the wind  blew his dirty blonde hair messily around his head. He nodded his head lazily to the beat of the music and turning to me he started  mumbling the wrong lyrics to the chorus.

In most of the halfway houses, the women kept their radios on at night to drown out the noises. The clearest stations were almost always Top 40. I’d woken up and gone to sleep to Jay-Z more times than I could count last year.

From bricks to Billboards, from grams to Grammy's The O's to opposite, orphan Annie

"...You gotta pardon Jay, for sellin' out the Garden in a day I’m like Marvin in his day--,” I mouth along to the song

Cody stares at me with his eyebrows raised.

“What the hell ?,” he smiles.

“I listen to the radio,” I tell him turning the sound up. He bumps his shoulder playfully into mine

“Got some dirt on my shoulder, could you brush it off for me?,” we sing together. “If you feelin' like a pimp , go and brush your shoulders off.”

He points to me.

“Ladies is pimps too, go on brush your shoulders off!,” we sing louder together

Cody laughs and flicks the end of his cigarette on the country road.

“Damn, you're still full of surprises,” he says.

Cody had made me nervous at first but he was a sweet guy and I could see why Rhett cared about him so much. Cody had found a holiday job glazing and wrapping hams at a store called Holiday Ham! in Southaven Mall. The small company believed in second chances and hired him despite his felony record and when they needed more help he recommended me.

It was far from the ideal job, but I needed to get out of the apartment and I wanted some of my own money. I didn’t have my own car and if Joceyln didn’t come by to get me in the morning to help her in the salon I just spent all day by myself waiting for Rhett to come home. 

And when I was alone my mind went to dark places.

Holiday Ham! only gave me 20 hours a week, but since Cody worked 40 hours I could always count on him for a  ride. Southaven Mall was 25 miles east of Freeport and we always had fun on the drive, occasionally swapping stories about being in the system.

Cody was always smart enough not to ask me what I'd been put in jail for and I gave him the same courtesy.

“Motherfucker,” Cody cursed, slamming his hand on the wheel. “Shit, shit, shit.”

 Cody pulls over and I see a whirl of red and blue police lights behind us.

“It’s okay, you were going the speed limit,” I tell him. Or atleast it seemed like he was. Something told me the car’s speedometer stopped working years ago.

A middle aged Louisiana State trooper walked around to the driver’s seat. His dark eyes dart to me and butterflies erupted in my stomach.

“Hands on the wheel,” the trooper tells Cody and then stares at me. “Put your hand where I can see ‘em young lady.”

Heat prickles the back of my eyes as Cody puts his hands on the wheel and I put mine on the console.

“You throw that cigarette out the window back there, boy ?,” the officer asks.

“My bad,” Cody drawls.

“Yes, it was 'your bad'.” the officer mocked. “Both of you out the car.”

I immediately get out, but Cody hesitates to leave the driver seat. The cop shouts his order again and Cody complies, cursing under his breath the whole time.

My face burns with humiliation as the officer directs us both to the side of the road and calls the license plate  into his radio. I try to wipe away my tears silently, but I end up sniffling.

 I exchange a look with Cody and he just looks pale. The officer looks me up and down and then turns to Cody.

“How many months is she?,” he asks.

Cody shrugs and looks at me. I’m 25 weeks, but I suddenly can’t speak.

“You know you got a bench warrant out for failure to appear in court?,” the officer asks Cody.

“Yeah,” Cody said looking down. “I’ll get on it, sir.”

“You should have got on it two weeks ago.” 

Another police car pulls up with a female cop at the wheel. I feel my heart start to pound faster and a headache coming on. I try to take deep breathes and  calm myself down, but I just smell  the trash on the side of the country road and it makes my stomach roll.

The two officers start searching the Neon and when I raise my eyebrows at Cody he gives me a pitiful look and mouths “sorry.”

Shutting the car doors, both officer’s approach us with their handcuffs out. The female cop has a small plastic bag  of white powder and a pipe. I feel everything collapse around me. Tears stream down my face

 I numbly watch the officer handcuff Cody. I start hyperventilating when the female officer approaches me with her handcuffs. I’m  terrified and against my better judgment I resist the arrest.

I  cross my arms in front of my chest and shake my head. I hear myself telling her no.

I can't go back. I can't go back to to jail. I had no idea he had drugs in the car.

“It’s okay,” the female officer says to me like she is talking to an animal. “Just calm down. We have to do this, I’m sorry.”

An invisible weight presses down on my chest; the police, the gravel, the cars and the handcuffs all feel like something I am watching in a movie.

I  feel my throat finally closing up and I  drop to my knees before I pass out completely.

 

***

-2-

I wake up in the back an ambulance, absolutely humiliated that I'd just passed out on the side of the road.

There are two EMTs sitting beside me, trading medical talk.

“Ms. Clark, your blood pressure is sky high,” the EMT tells me as the ambulance pulls into the hospital “We have to have you checked out by a doctor.”

“I’m okay,” I tell them when I see they plan to wheel me into the hospital on the gurney.

They ignore me and roll me through the waiting room and into the  Emergency Room bay.

A nurse around my age puts bandages on my knee from where I’d fallen. I’d been wearing a knee length jean skirt and white blouse like I did most days to work. They were both covered with dirt now.

An ER doctor comes to me almost immediately and tells me I seem fine but that she wants me to take some tests and see a specialist—which is code for I will be here all day. I lay back on the hospital bed and everything comes to me at once.

I need to call Rhett.

What happened Cody ?

Did I lose my job ?

“Juliana,” a voice calls.

I sit up to see Rev. Ellis Roads,  the reverend who married us. I must be in Southaven Regional Care, where he had mentioned he was the chaplain. Rev. Ellis looks polished in his professional black suit and badge. In his hand he has a little cup of cranberry juice with a foil top.

“Hi,” I manage.

“I thought you may want to talk,” he says.

“I think I need to call Rhett,” I tell him.

“He’s been called. Cody gave the police his number. Rhett called Jocelyn and she called me because she knew I worked here.”

I’d forgotten how fast news traveled in Rhett’s circle.

Our circle.

“Would you like to go for a walk?,” he asks. “I’ll bring you back.”

I nod and follow him out of the ER. He stabs a straw through the cranberry juice and offers it to me. We walk into a room labeled chapel and I feel like I’m in a whole different building. The room was small, but it had a beautiful stain glass wall that captured the sunlight and rows of cushioned chairs. It smelled like clean linen and the air was cool. He leads me to one of the chairs near the altar and we sit nearly knee to knee..

“You and Mr. Clark work fast,” he jokes looking at my swollen stomach.

I barely make a smile. It was better than people joking I had used the pregnancy to trap Rhett. They always said it was joke but I knew it's what a lot of people believed.

“Want to talk about what happened today?,” Rev. Roads asked

“I just had a little panic attack,” I admitted. “I’m fine.”

“I noticed you had the Bible I gave you in your bag,” he said. “...Would you be open to praying with me?,”

I didn’t really feel much like praying, but I knew praying is what he—and people like him—did when they wanted to help someone.

I nod and he cups one hands over mine before bowing his head. I follow suit.

 “We thank you for this sacred  little life carried by this woman,” he said. “Please renew this mother’s strength for the days to come. Grant her a heart that is kind, steadfast and generous. Sanctify her waiting and pain. Bless this joyful hope within her womb in your eyes. Amen.”

“Amen.” I repeat. A warmth settles over me at his words. I still didn’t think of myself as a mother. The baby didn’t feel real.

“Jocelyn mentioned to me this pregnancy has been hard on you.”

“A little,” I admit.

“I know moving to a new place can be difficult socially. If you’re interested I work with a network of young women  near your age who would love to take you out some time. I think it’d be good for you to build a support network.”

I nod. Jocelyn must have told him I needed to get out of the house.

We sit silently for a few moments and a few more tears slide down my face.

“Where is she ? How do you lose a god damn patient!,” I hear a familiar voice yelling in the distance.

Rev. Roads and I exchange a look and without a word to him I wipe my eyes and walk out of the chapel to see Rhett raising his voice to a woman in a suit and the young nurse who had bandaged my knees.  Rhett was still in his Coast Guard uniform, he was supposed to keep honorable when he was in uniform, but he looked wild.

“Rhett-,” 

 When he turns and sees me his face softens and he closes the distance between us. He pulls me into his embrace, kissing me quickly.

“Are you okay ?” 

“It’s fine. I’m okay.” 

“No you’re not” 

Rhett hugs me again, running his hand through my hair and softly bringing my head to his chest.

“We gotta figure this shit out, baby,” he whispers in my ear. “Today.”

Giving Rev. Roads an acknowledging head nod Rhett leads me to a row of chairs in the waiting room and holds my hand as we wait for the specialist. I don’t feel like holding his hand after watching his almost outburst with the hospital staff, but I do it anyway.

That was what our entire marriage had been. We did things we didn’t feel like doing and  pushed until it fit; we did the things we thought married people did until they were just things we did.

Sometimes I made dinner and sometimes he brought me flowers. We went on walks at night, grocery shopped and paid bills together.

We were intimate.

I could count the number of nights we went to bed without making love on one hand. I sometimes had a hard time reconciling the man who held me at night with him during the day. Rhett was always busy and moving at 100 miles per hour in the day, but in our bed all his attention focused like a laser on me and my body. It was unnerving at first and I had to learn to adjust before it really felt normal.

That was the nice part of living with him.

The bad part was I couldn’t hide anything. 

“I’ve got you records from your OBGYN, Mrs. Clark. I’d like to know what happened today,” the prenatal specialist, Dr. Shah asked.

We were in her pristinely decorated office now. She had framed collages of babies on nearly all her walls. Her desk overflowed with thank you cards.

“Nothing happened, I’m fine. I’ve just  been on anxiety medication for the last few years,” I explain. “I’m still adjusting from not being able to take them with the pregnancy….I just think I reacted because the whole event was just triggering. I’m usually fine.”

“She’s lyin’,” Rhett says.

“Rhett--,” I start. I knew he would do this. He tells everyone everything unless it’s his own secret.

“I ain’t comin’ back here,” he tells me and turns to Dr. Shah. “She needs to be back on her medication. She can't function without them. She’s gone days without gettin’ out of bed, she turns into a different person and she had a real bad panic attack last week but we didn't go to the hospital---”

I couldn’t believe he was telling her this.

 “No, I didn’t,” I tell the doctor. For some reason my voice sounded so panicky and I could see the doctor's hesitation.

“J, stop lying to her--”

“I mean...I just had one bad episode,” I admit. “But I only panicked because he had a gun--”

“I was coming back from the shooting range,” Rhett says quickly to Dr. Shah.

Dr. Shah starts writing and I feel my tears come back.

“It’s okay, baby,” Rhett says rubbing my back. “She’s going to help us--”

“No she won't! You’re trying to get our baby taken away from me--”

"Calm down, J--,"

"He's still mad at me for getting pregnant," I explain calmly.

He rolls his eyes at this, but he’d hinted at an abortion once more since the first time he did it in the pool. He’d warned me that  after 20 weeks it would be too dangerous for me to do it.

“See?,” He says to the doctor. “She’s acting so paranoid.”

I wasn’t paranoid, but I know Rhett is good at getting people on his side. He had his uniform on which mean they'd always believe him over me--even about my own body and well being.

I decide not to fight.

I just glare at them and don’t say anything else until we leave Dr. Shah’s office 20 minutes later with a low dose anti-depressant prescription and a pamphlet on holistic treatments for anxiety.

“Can you take me to  HolidayHam! ?,” I ask Rhett when we get into his truck. “I think I can still make half my shift--”

“I called and told them you ain’t comin’ back,” he said.

“Oh,” I say. “Why ? Did Cody have to go to jail ?”

“I don’t know. I don’t give a fuck about Cody.” Rhett spat. “Even if his folks are dumb enough to bail him out--which they are-- you ain’t gettin in a car with that asshole again. I swear to God if I see his ugly face I’m going to fuck him up--”

“He just made a mistake--”

“No he fucking didn’t, J.” Rhett said. “He knew exactly what kind of shit he had in the car. He promised me he wouldn’t fuck up with you in the car and he did. What if the cops thought that shit was yours ? Then what ? You want to go back to jail ?”

“No," I say, the thought making me shiver.  "But I want to work--”

“So, go work for Mama--”

“I want to work for money. I can’t take profit from your mom.”

“Look, J, you don’t need a job right now--”

“We share a bank account,” I remind him. “We live paycheck to paycheck. Every little bit counts. Maybe if you can drop me off in the morning at the mall before you go to work--”

“I’d be going 30 miles in the opposite direction of my job,” he counters.

“Maybe I can ask your Mom if I can borrow her--”

“And what’s she going to drive if something comes up with Savannah ?,”

“Well…Maybe we can buy something cheap ?”

“You just told me how we live paycheck to paycheck,”

“Don’t you have good credit ?,” I ask him.

“I’d like to keep it that way.”

“I’ll figure out,” I tell  him taking his cell phone off his belt and flipping it open. “I’m going to call and ask for my job back--”

He takes the phone and throws it in the backseat.

“Damn it Juliana, you don’t need to work,” he yells.

I wasn’t used to being around men who raised their voices and it always disoriented me when he raised his voice. It takes me a minute to think of a come back.

“You know, Savannah would say you’re being sexist--”

“No I ain’t,” he retorts. “You literally don’t need a job to get money.”

“What do you mean ?”

He sighs and shakes his head.

"What--"

“Why don’t you ask your Daddy ?,”

***

“Raleigh Cameron speaking.”

“Hi, um, it’s me Juliana Reese--”

“Isn’t it Clark now ?”

“….Yes, actually but I didn't think you knew---”

“The answer is yes, I do know a good divorce lawyer,”

“Funny.”

“What’s up, Juliana Clark.”

“Um…Rhett told me the other day that my parents owned the land on the commune and got money from it--”

“That son of a--sorry. Look, I  can't disclose that kind of stuff. It’s not not true is all I’ll say.”

“Okay.”

“Okay ?”

“Have you spoken to my Dad about his plans for the money ?”

“No.”

“Do you think my Mom owned some of it too ? ”

“She did, there was a will--”

“There was ?”

“The will was null. Everything went to Caine. A public lawyer gave all her assets to your Dad.”

“Um, okay. It’s just…this is all news to me. I didn’t even know there was a will.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“What do you think of my Dad, Raleigh ?”

“Well...I don’t really know him, Juliana.”

“Apparently neither do I.”

***

-3-

“Do you remember this is where you were conceived?” Rhett says in a baby voice.

“Don’t say that,” I chastise him, lightly slapping his hand away from my stomach.

It still disturbed me how unchanged Rhett’s childhood room seemed. It looked exactly how teenaged boys rooms looked in movies; plaid bed spread, misplaced road signs on the walls and trophies on the shelves.

Jocelyn had gone out of town again and we were spending another weekend at her house with Savannah. We were in Rhett’s bed and I was laying between his legs. I’d put a pillow on his hard chest so I had something soft to rest my head on as Maroon 5 played softly from his stereo.

He leans down and kisses the top of my head, my nose and finally my mouth.

“You’re trying to distract me,” I tell him, playfully hitting his nose with the workbook.

“So ?,” he says.

Rhett was getting some kind of leadership certification at work and I was trying to help him study for his exam on Monday, but he was in a silly mood.

Outside his bedroom door I hear Jocelyn’s KitchenAid whir and the shrieks of Savannah and her friend, Casey. They giggle for a lot longer than seems necessary. Before I can stop him, Rhett moves me over and walks to the closed door squinting through the crack between the door and the hinge.

Savannah and Casey had invited Caleb and another football player, Connor, over to make chocolate chip cookies for the church bake sale tomorrow. Savannah had begged that Rhett and I make ourselves disappear tonight, so they could be alone.

“Let’s fuck with them--” Rhett says.

“No.” I tell him. "You have to study-"

“C’mon,” he says. “You need to go out there and pretend being pregnant sucks so they don’t get any ideas.”

“I don’t have to pretend,” I remind him. Everything in my body ached. I experienced heartburn for the first time in my life.

“Well, I need another beer,” he says.

I groan. The smell of anything with yeast had been making  me extra nauseous lately.

Rhett opens the bedroom door and the teen’s conversation in the kitchen quiets down at the sound of the squeaky door hinge. I pull myself out of the bed and  follow Rhett into the kitchen because it seemed like he needed some supervision.

“What are you doing in here ?,” Savannah says to Rhett in a tone so annoyed I can hear her eye roll.

“I’m a grown ass man I can go wherever the hell I want,” he tells her, taking the six pack he’d bought before we came over out the fridge. He  turns to the football players. “Hey, ya’ll want one ?,”

“Ignore him,” Savannah says quickly before they can answer.

Rhett opens the bottle using the side of the counter and sits down at the dinner table that was stacked with empty pizza boxes from earlier in the night. I can see Savannah shooting daggers with her eyes at Rhett before turning to me with a pleading look.

“Let’s go sit outside on the porch,” I say to Rhett, pulling his arm. Instead of standing he pulls me down into his lap. The smell of his open beer makes me gag.

“Nah,” he says putting his hand on my waist so I couldn’t move from his lap. “Let’s hang out with the young people while we still can,”

“Uggghhh,” Savannah says, but part of me suspects she kind of likes that he’s here.

“You see the game last night ?,” Caleb asks Rhett.

“J and I had to go to see her doctor but I heard it on the radio,” Rhett explains. “Coach could make you QB by senior year.”

Caleb smiles at this. Caleb was handsome in a boy band way with short blonde hair and brown eyes. Savannah turned into all smiles when he was around and I wondered how official he was with Savannah. I was never a romantic, but I thought it was really cute what they had.

Caleb and Connor start talking football and workout regiments with Rhett. They both want to play in college or join the army so they can get out of Freeport. Savannah’s annoyance with Rhett fades and she joins in their conversation when it turns to professional sports.

I was going to miss some of this when I left.

Rhett’s story about the workouts he had to do during his freshman year at the Academy is interrupted by a knock on the door.  I look at the kitchen clock, it’s almost 11:00 PM.

“Are you expecting someone else ?,” I ask Savannah.

She shakes her head and Rhett presses a hand to my hip and I stand so he can go to the door. People had been living in his neighborhood for generations and  were always dropping by to borrow things. I don’t think anything of  the late night visitor  until I hear the door slam loudly.

“I WANNA TALK….COME ON, MAN!,” I hear Cody shouting outside. He sounds drunk.

 Rhett walks back to the kitchen and I can tell he is fuming. His neck is turning red and his hands are clenched in fists. I’m impressed he walked away from the fight.

“Oh my god. How did he get out ?,” Savannah shrieks and Casey giggles.

I shrug. It had only been a week since the arrest and I hadn’t heard a word from Cody.

“THINK YOU FUCKIN’ BETTER THAN ALL OF US!” Cody shouts so loudly I can hear him through the  closed window.  “YOU AIN’T SHIT…YOU STILL HERE TOO, YOU STILL FUCKIN UP. ASSHOLE!”

Before I can say anything Rhett turns abruptly and heads back the front door.

“Rhett. No,” I say, but he ignores me.

 I follow after him, walking as fast as I could at 6 months pregnant.

Savannah follows after me.

Rhett moves fast and in less than a second he is off the porch and in the street. He grabs Cody by the collar of his HoldiayHam! shirt and punches him in the face. Cody pushes Rhett away and Rhett comes back for him. The grapple in the middle of the road and after a short struggle Rhett easily pins Cody down on the gravel and balls his hand into a fist.

“Stop it!,” I scream and try to pull him off. “Enough.”

“Shut up,” Rhett says holding up a hand to push me away. 

Rhett stands and drags a flailing, bloodied  Cody to his feet.

“Please don’t  hit him,” I tell Rhett. I wanted it to sound like a command, but it came out more like whining. "Rhett don't hit him--"

“Go back in the god damn house,” Rhett barks at me.

I don’t move. I cross my arms and watch as he lets go of Cody’s collar. I can see curtains pushing back and doors opening as the neighbors start to get curious.

“Look, Juliana I just got out and the first thing I wanted to do was come say I’m so sorry--,” Cody starts looking past Rhett to me.

“It ain’t her forgiveness you have to beg for,” Rhett tells him. “You’re a selfish asshole. You almost hurt my kid and you don’t give a fuck. Shit like this is why you’re fucking nothing, Cody. The reason I ain’t beatin’ the shit out of you is because you ain’t worth mine or anyone’s time--”

“Fuck you, man. You think cause you got a fancy job, that fancy rank and bitchass car you better than me ?,” Cody slurs. “You could still end up like your daddy--,”

Cody's low blow cut off by Rhett's closed fist connecting with his face. Cody ducks away from the next strike and starts fighting back, grabbing Rhett’s neck and twisting. I'd never seen a fight this close before. It's ugly. Before I can think of what to do, Coach Grady, Caleb, Connor and a few other men from the neighborhood I don’t immediately recognize run out to break up the fight. One of the men has to sit on Rhett’s chest to keep him down.

“I take it you boys don’t want me to call the police ?,” One of the men asks as a warning.

“Come on, son.” Coach Grady says, pulling Cody back to their house.

“Ya’ll need to stop bailin’ his ass out all the time,” Rhett yells after Coach Grady.

“That’s enough, Clark,” Coach Grady shouts as he tightens his grip on his son.

“Get the fuck of me, Marty.” Rhett says to the man holding him down.

When Marty lets him go, Rhett stands and walks back to the house like nothing happened. When I try to take to  his hand he shakes me off.

I wasn’t going to miss this when I left.

 

---

-4-

I pushed on the lock one more time to make sure I had secured Jocelyn’s   front door. I’m sure it really wouldn’t have mattered if I forgot to lock it. Most  of the doors in the neighborhood were always unlocked.

I grabbed the handle of the yellow rolling suitcase  and rolled it down the porch steps and to the waiting taxi cab. The driver stacked my suitcase on top of the knockoff Vera Bradley duffel Jocelyn had gifted me and closed the trunk.

I look back at the little yellow house once more and feel hesitant.

“I just want to check the house one more time,” I call to the cab driver.

He nodded his head and I sprint inside.

 I walked to Rhett’s bedroom and just looked around for a second.  I walked back to the living room and look around. I knew I hadn’t left anything. I was just stalling.

I walk out the door, check the lock once more  and then walk toward the cab.

“Hey, chickeadee! ,”a hurried female voice calls to me.

I look up to see a woman I don’t recognize scurrying across the lawn and right towards me. She had gorgeous waist length brown hair in a messy low ponytail, she was dressed in dark green jogging pants and an orange tank top hanging off her shoulder--- she looked like she had just rolled out of bed to come talk to me.

As she got closer I ran through the list of neighbors or family members she could possibly be but came up blank. I looked up to see which house had a door open and it dawned on me. I didn’t recognize her because in the 7 months I'd been in Freeport we’d never met—she was  Ann Ashby, Ray Ashby’s wife. I’d seen Ray a few times but never her.

She looked tired but, she was younger than I would have thought. She usually never left her house and I began to worry something was wrong.

“You finally, flyin’ outta here with your little baby bird?,” she smiles catching her breath.  She put her hands on her small hips. “ We  saw that fight Saturday night.  Good for you, knowin’ when enough is enough.”

“I’m sorry ?,” I said, not understanding  her.

“You so young and pretty,” she tells me. “You find somethin’ better back up North. Hell, girl listen to me… you don’t even need a man,”

I  could barely make sense of what she was saying. I could smell alcohol on her breath.

“Oh, I’m not leaving leaving” I explain. “I’m just going to visit my Dad for a while to um, catch up.”

That was the nicest way I could say it. The truth was I was going to finally tell him I was pregnant and ask for some money.

She paused and moved her thin bangs out her face, I notice a yellowing bruise above her eye and try not to stare.

“Oh,” she said, ”Well, I just assumed cause you had a cab--”

“Rhett had an important exam today and Jocelyn is out of town ,” I explain. “I’m only going to the small airport in the next town over.”

She pauses again

“Well, chickadee,” she says. “I won’t blame you if you don’t come back. I’m sure pretty thing like you got options. Even with that cute little bun in your oven.  I can tell you deserve better.”

“I don’t need options,” I tell her.

She just stares at me and my eyes land on another fading bruise on her neck.  “Um, you know Ann there are  options  for you… if you want to leave. I can ask my Dad’s social worker when I’m --”

“What ? Me ? Hell no.” she says with an exaggerated laugh. “Ray is good to me….well. most of the time. We been together for  9 years—damn near a decade. He may get angry but, I mean what man don’t ? Don’t mean I leave the fool.”

This conversation is over my head but I tell her the things I’d heard the women say to each other in the halfway house.

“Oh. Well.. it’s not my place or anything,” I tell her.  “But, if things are bad you don’t have to take it,”

“I ain’t taken nothing, chickadee,” she responded, “ I do as I please, my man comes home to me every night and provides for me. So what if he got a temper ? So do I.  I’m tough but, you ain’t baby girl.  Won’t be too long before that army man starts taking his little troubles out on you,”

“Stop talking about Rhett like that,” I tell her in a firm tone and she looked wounded.

 How could she talk to  me when all anyone ever gossiped about what how she never left the house because of  how controlling Ray was about her. It made me angry that she thought she of all people could say these things to me.

“You have no right,” I tell her. “Rhett isn’t like that....He even told me that your husband tried to fight Rhett when he was in high school--”

“I know about that fight. That Clark boy probably didn’t tell you the whole story. Those demon boys were breaking into houses stealing underwear from the women in the neighborhood. “ she snapped,” You know I  just came over her because I was being concerned-,”

“Please don’t be.” I keep my firm tone.” I am fine.”

She turns around without another word and heads back to her house leaving me with a chill from our confrontation.

I got in the cab and slammed the door.

“The airport, correct ?,” the cab driver said.

“Yes”

---

A/N

So this last section is lifted (with a few tweaks) from where we left off in OHG. Except in OHG Rhett and Julianna live with his mom, so I had to invent a reason why Juliana is taking a cab from there. Also, in OHG she really is leaving him an she's  not pregnant. I've been sitting on that for about 6 years so it was nice to work it in. There is only one more OHG segment that we are going to see and that is in the next chapter.

In my head Ann Ashby is basically Taryn Manning in OITNB. WHen I saw her on the show that was all I could think about.