ALMA
"The rare one."
A gasp spilled from my lips, and my grip around the steering wheel hardened. It felt like I'd fallen on my face upon a rocky part, and now I needed time to be conscious again. My face drained off all color, and somehow, my mouth just wouldn't close. Breathing felt like such a hard chore, and I couldn't feel my face.
"It.. it's him?" I stuttered, slightly turning to Velma as the chilliness of the car that I once enjoyed became my worst enemy. Still, it didn't stop the beads of cold sweat from forming on my forehead and rolling to my neck. "You met that man?"
I didn't let Velma give me a response when I frantically typed CARL HARRISON in the search icon, and a couple of his pictures appeared. Handsome son of a bitch. I shifted and turned the phone to her face. "Are you sure you met this person?"
Her eyes reflected the light from the screen as she nodded excitedly. "Yes! That's him, mama! Is he famous?"
Yes, that's him, mama! No. No! No! How much more could words haunt one? These echoed relentlessly in my brain, and for a second there, I had no idea what I should do. I wanted to bang on the steering wheel and yell since my worst nightmare had already begun to liven. After five years of fortification, he just managed to bump into her? At a museum!?
God, this was not happening! I was physically trembling, and that rational voice in my head that always calmed me down and offered me logical solutions was nowhere to be found. It was dimmed and had completely vanished into thin air, replaced by the vile screams that filled my headspace.
"Mama?" I felt her little hand on my thighs. "Are you okay?"
No, no. I wasn't. I didn't appreciate Carl's sneakiness and how he'd managed to meet you at a fucking museum! I'd tell her all these if she were six and clueless as to what was going on. So I shook my head gently and did my seatbelt. "I'm fine, sweetheart. I am just great."
I began driving, and jeez, it took too much to be normal, to be sane! Despite my rage, I couldn't believe I responsibly drove all the way home without crashing into another car on purpose or one of those billboards with Carl's stupid face on it! How could he do that? Was he stalking me? Does he know where I stay?
A shiver raced down my spine, and I tensed up, pressed against the steering wheel as I drove into the parking lot, more than eager to get inside and plot how to sort out my Carl issue without, you know, becoming a murderer. The walk to the apartment was tense, the nerve-wracking kind of tense, and I resorted to nodding curtly to everything Velma said, in order for her not to suspect that something was wrong.
What if Carl had someone following me? Could he do that? He wasn't the kind of man to. "Shut up, Alma! He kicked you out!" I muttered to myself. How could I be defending him in this situation?
"Did you say something?" Velma intoned, and I looked down at her. Great. I was going mad.
"No, no, I didn't. Let's go in." Like today was a cursed day, I heard footfalls coming from behind me, and it was approaching fast, so I just held Velma and walked faster.
Did they get into my apartment? What was happening? My pace increased, and so did Velma's. My heart was pumping twice faster than it should. Just as the footsteps grew closer, I swung my bag hard, and it came in strong contact with the face of the person walking behind me.
"Ahh!" They grunted, and I was immediately hit with the familiarity of the voice. No, it wasn't Carl or his cohorts. It was Rodney! Oh, no!
"Jeez! Fuck!" I blurted as I dropped my bag. "I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry, I didn't know it was you. I panicked and..." I stuttered, my fingers all over his face as I tried to undo my mess. I must have forgotten that physical touch couldn't heal a red, swollen head.
I was a mess. "No, it's fine. I'm fine. I'm sorry I startled you." He paused and rubbed his forehead. "Nice grip you got there. I pity who that was made for!"
I looked at Velma, who was obviously having a lot of fun seeing me be a mess. Like father, like daughter, isn't it? I blinked slowly, an apological expression crawling up my face, and I linked my fingers, looking up at him. "I'm so sorry about that. I've been a little jumpy today, you know..." I squinted, and he threw me a similar look.
Of course, he'd seen the news.
"Actually, there's...something else you should know, Alma. Have you seen the news again, this evening, Ca--"
"Wait!" I cut in as my eyes widened. Velma must not hear about this, not even a glimpse. Rodney nodded, immediately understanding why I yelled. His hand still covered the part of his face that I'd hit. "I'm so sorry. Come on in," I ushered, "Let me treat that, and we can talk?"
"Yeah, definitely."
"Rodney, I made a new friend today!" Velma chimed, finally having her way with Rodney as I busied myself with opening the door. "He's smart, just like you!"
"Oh really?" Rodney looked at me. "That's nice! Did you know about this? My girl is making moves, yo!"
The wrong moves, probably. I let Velma run inside the house and turned to Rodney, then I mouthed. "You have no idea who she's talking about!"
A few minutes of aimless walking and Velma running around and screaming praises of her new friend passed, and I successfully found Rodney an ice pack while he was seated on a chair in the kitchen, perched behind the table. I took a seat next to him, observing his face. "Are you okay? I'm so sorry about that. I got so jumpy, and I just--"
"No, it's fine, alright?" he cut in. "There's something way more important than the bump on my head, Alma." Rodney reached into his pocket and fished out his phone. "You have to see this." I scanned the screen, and it was an article in Carl's name, and I flinched involuntarily; his name was scattered all over my face.
Apparently, he'd held a conference in his company to clear out all rumors, but that didn't seem to be the problem here. "A minute?" Carl said as he scrolled down and clicked the video. It showed that it had almost been watched to the end, but right before it actually ended.
I heard Carl say, "And Miss Alma Jenkins had agreed to a meeting with me before the reporters to further clarify the rumors. The date shall be communicated to you. Thank you all so much."
There and then, it ended, but his voice wasn't the only thing that died. I did, too, burning into complete silence. I agreed? When? Was there another Alma Jenkins aside from me?? The words were caught in my throat, and I just gawked at Rodney with a flustered expression.
"I'm guessing you didn't agree to do the meeting?"
Agree? "Of course I didn't!" I yelled, ruffling my hair. "I didn't even see that basta-" I glanced at Velma. She was too preoccupied with the TV to hear me, so I took my cussing up a notch. "The son of a bitch at all! I didn't see him today, and suddenly, a press conference?!"
"He must be trying to draw you out then. Is that it?" Rodney suggested, and I blew out my cheeks, feeling the exhaust from too much anger weigh on me.
"I don't know what he's trying to do, but I'm not having it," I ranted. "First he meets my daughter, now this? What sort of madness even is this?!"
"H-he met Velma!?"
"Yes, that's what I was trying to tell you! Carl...is the new friend she's talking about. She met him at the museum today, and I'm just supposed to believe that this was a coincidence? Rodney, he should be the one with that bump on your head right now. Fuck, I'm so pissed! Why is he trying to frustrate me so much?"
It'd be a lie if I said I didn't see the twinge of disappointment dawn on Rodney from the moment I mentioned Velma meeting Carl, and I couldn't fault him for it, honestly. I anticipated he'd react this way.
"For him to do this..." Rodney's voice trailed as he squirmed in his seat and moved the ice pack back to the table. "Then I guess you still have unfinished business. Try talking to him, Alma. A man this desperate...should be given a chance to at least talk, or it might get dangerous."
"Talk?" I winced, feeling disgust crawl up to my throat. "I'd rather die than talk to that dirty cheat! Do you not remember what he did to me, Rodney?! I do not want to have anything to do with him!"
I watched his eyes drop back to his phone that shone the article. "It doesn't seem like you have much choice, though. I mean, people are waiting!"
"I don't know what to do!"
"I think you do, actually."
I grinned, folding my hands across my chest. "Uh, commit murder and end in jail?"
Rodney grinned. "That's not a bad option, but let's do the easy one first. Try talking to him, warn him if you have to. He has to know that you actively want him to back off." He glanced at Velma. "For Velma's sake, too."
I stayed silent, not knowing how to respond. Rather than address the topic at hand, I suggested gayly. "How about some evening drinking? Please stop me before I get drunk."
*
Barge had never had more meaning as I kicked my way into Carl's office with his secretary shortly behind me, yelling and pleading for me not to just go in, the same way he just happened to mention my name on national TV and signed me up for a meeting I had no idea about.
The same way he'd just met my daughter at the museum? Oh, please! I was fuming too hard to even be rational. Call me a mad woman; in fact, I needed excuses to actually prove that I wasn't all okay up there. Well, till I stormed my way in and sighted a surprised Carl, who stood up immediately he saw me.
A knowing smirk appeared on his face, and he was quick to usher his secretary out immediately, as if he'd been expecting me to do exactly what I did. Did I mention how much I hated him? I hated him so much!
I hated his face, and I hated that chiseled jawline and chin! I hated how fucking green his eyes were! I hated how they raked over me as though he calculated everything I had on, after which his smirk widened. My heels were rooted to the marble floor, and my tongue, well, the phrase 'cat got your tongue?' have never met more meaning. I gritted my teeth and sauntered towards him, who had his hands tucked in his pockets.
"What did you do?" I fired immediately, trying not to be distracted by that devilish smirk he had on. "What was the news about?"
Carl half shrugged. "What any reasonable person would have done." His eyes flicked to my lips then to my eyes again. "Is that so surprising, Alma?"
I faked a giggle. It was so dry that it basically ripped out of my throat. I stood before him and, without mincing a word, responded. "Actually, it is. You and being reasonable don't get along well, so pardon my surprise."
His eyes twitched. Unlike before, where I could almost never tell when he was or wasn't hurt, in that moment I could tell that I hurt him, gravely.
Carl cleared his throat and walked closer. "Can we finally talk now, Alma?"