“We can work together. You’ll get what you want–”
“What do you want Sophie?” Asked Lynda as she stood in her doorway.
Sophie looked Lynda up and down. Her hair a wild grey halo around her head. She wore a torn nightgown like if she had been a fight. Was that blood at the corner of her mouth? Wondered Sophie.
“What do you want Sophie?”
“I heard you and my little girl finally had a falling out.” Sophie felt comfortable in getting what she wanted from Lynda. She had heard about the cuss out the two women engaged in earlier this week. Finally, everything was going her way. It took almost ten years, but the end was in sight. Sophie liked designer things and she will finally have all the money to continue to buy them. She was dressed in a slinky leopard skin dress with black stilettos. A big Michael Kors black handbag was slung over her shoulder. “I just want to help you get–”
“Help me get what?” Interrupted Lynda. “What kind of mother are you that you’re always planning your child’s downfall?”
“She stole from me!” Shouted Sophie. “You know how long I was working that angle, before she swooped in and stole everything from me?” The Bajan dialect slipped out. “She’s a thief! I’m not afraid to say it. We both know she’s a thief. Butter don’t melt in she mout’ my ass. She took my con and made it her own. He left everything to she.” Ranted Sophie. Her chest heaved up and down in agitation. “I tended that old shite, and then she swooped in and said some shit bout me.”
Lynda laughed without humor. Her eyes mean and beady behind her large spectacles. Her opened mouth showed a bloody tooth. “You think Traci stole that old man’s attention? If you hadn’t screwed around on him, and showed your daughter love instead contempt-”
“You think I showed her contempt?” It was Sophie’s turn to laugh. “I didn’t even have contempt for that child. I just want what’s mine. I been watching you, Miss Goody-Two-Shoes. You didn’t take Traci in because you felt sorry for her. You want the money same as me. I’m the only one who has the guts to admit it. I want my money! It’s long overdue. What about you?”
“I don’t want money. Good day to you!” The door slammed and the lock clicked.
Sophie stood outside the door. She felt the rage rise up. Her fists clenched and itched to rip the door off the hinges. Why everybody love that girl? What was there to love? She even stole my brother’s love. But I showed him that I can find people to love me as well. I hope he suffered. Him and his fat wife. If Lynda won’t help… Maybe her husband Scot would. What do they need? If not money, what? Everybody want something. I’ll find what they want. Finally moving off the stoop, Sophie vowed to find what Lynda and Scot wanted.
Lynda watched Traci’s mother until she got in a car on the passenger side and drove away. “How dare she think she could bribe me? You don’t have want I want bitch!” I’ll have it soon though. Moving away from the door and side louvers, Lynda surveyed the damage to her home. Overturned chairs, askew pictures on the wall, ripped sofa and armchairs, smashed clock, ripped out wall phone, smashed glass lamps, carpet burned in patches, and her husband Scot’s empty wheelchair. Walking through the mess, Lynda made her way to Scot lying at the bottom of the stairs. His hands gripped the banister, while his pale legs laid spreadeagled and useless on the floor. His thin body finally revealed in a white wife beater and black boxing shorts. His feet bare. He had been unable to pull himself up the stairs. After thirty-six years of marriage, Lynda did not even feel pity or sorrow for her husband. She just felt relief. You want to know what I want, Sophie? What I want, you can’t give me.