[Wednesday, April 17]
I wake up to Alla gently caressing my cheek. Smiling at her, I ask, “What are you doing awake?”
She grins at me and says, “Watching you sleep. You are so damn cute when you’re sleeping.” Getting up, she walks over to the desk, gets my meds and some water and comes back over to hand them to me. Sitting up, I take them.
Setting the bottle on the nightstand, I say, “Thank you, though it’s no fair watching me sleep.”
She shrugs. “What can I say, I like looking at you. Other things too, but we can’t do anything about that right now.”
Pouting, I reply, “That’s wrong on so many levels. You shouldn’t tease me when you know I can’t do anything.”
She giggles, kisses me, winks and says, “You know that goes both ways.” She gets up and stretches. “I’m going to go run us a hot bath. Do you need to use the bathroom?”
I nod and she helps me stand up. After holding on to her elbow to steady myself, we make our way to the bathroom. I then take care of my business as she starts the bath filling. Then she turns on the shower to allow it to warm up. Once I finish, we shower together. Afterward, Alla winds our hair up, pins it into place, climbs into the tub and helps me sit between her legs. Sighing and closing my eyes as I lean back against her, she slides her arms around me and gently holds me.
The hot water feels amazing, so between it, my pain pills, and the feeling of Alla’s soft body, I’m feeling great. With all that going on, it’s no wonder that Mom had to come up and tell us to get out of the bath since breakfast will be ready in a few minutes.
Getting out of the tub, Alla blow dries and brushes out our hair. She helps me slip on a fresh pair of panties and a nightgown and we head downstairs when Alla finishes dressing. As we arrive, Mom is setting breakfast on the table.
Mom teasingly says, “Girls, ladies are never late, so try to manage your time better.”
I laugh, but both of us roll our eyes at her statement, since we both know all too well that she’s just teasing us. After we eat, Alla helps Mom clean up and Mom states, “Andie, I’m heading out for work, but if anything happens, give me a call and I’ll come right back home. The Mayor already knows what’s going on so he has no problem with me leaving if I have to.”
Both of us nod and she then heads off to her bedroom to finish getting ready for work as we park ourselves on the couch and turn on the TV to watch the news. Cuddling against Alla, we watch the morning news. Once Mom’s dressed, she comes back in, kisses my forehead and tells me, “I love you baby girl. Make sure you rest today. I’ll see you girls later.”
I tell her, “Bye, Mom. I love you too.”
Alla says, “See you later, Mariam.”
As she’s heading to the front door, I see a news report comes on with a camera shot of our house with a ‘Live’ caption on it. Tapping Alla’s arm, I say, “Tell Mom.”
Alla calls out, “Mariam, wait! There are a bunch of reporters outside!”
Mom comes back into the living room, looks at the TV and says, “Damn it! I was afraid this would happen.” Moments later, I see a shot of several reporters walking up the door and one of them rings the doorbell. Sighing, she heads to the door.
[Mariam’s POV]
As I open the door the reporter out in front greets me by saying, “Good morning, Mrs. Williams, we were hoping you would allow us to speak to you and your daughter about what happened with her father?”
I closed my eyes briefly before glaring at the reporter. I muster up the best passive-aggressive tone I can think of, “No, I will not be discussing this with you, and Andie will most certainly not either. She is still recovering from her injuries and the trauma of what happened to her. I’m asking that you please leave us in peace. Thank you.”
Stepping back from the doorway, I begin closing the door when several of them begin yelling out, “Mrs. WIlliams! Please, just a few words!” I immediately close the door, lean against it and let out a sigh. Rubbing my temples, I pull out my phone and call the mayor to tell him about what’s going on.
He tells me, “I’ll ask the sheriff to come over to clear them out. They should know better than to try to interview a minor. If they give you anymore trouble let me know. Mariam, why don’t you take the day off and spend it with your daughter?”
“Thank you, I’ll do that. I’m more than a little worried that even after the sheriff runs them off they’ll still come back and try again. Andie is under enough stress as it is, she damn sure doesn’t need this on top of everything else.”
He tells me, “I’ll call the networks and papers and ask that they leave you alone. I don’t know if it’ll help or not since it all depends on how rabid they are to get the story.”
“I appreciate it. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Ending the call, I walk back into the living room to see Alla holding Andie as they watch a reporter talk. “…outside the home of the girl who was brutally assaulted by her father. As you saw, we did talk to her mother for a few moments. She refused to allow us to speak to the girl.”
The anchor asks, “Why do you think she refused to talk to you or allow you to talk to her daughter?”
I reach over, pick up the remote and mute the TV. Sitting beside Andie, I hug her as well. Quitely, I tell her, “It’s okay, baby girl. We’ll keep them away from you.”
[Andie’s POV]
I whisper back, “Thank you, Mom.” We sit there in a group hug, until I see a car pull into our driveway on TV out of the corner of my eye. Looking, I see the minister from our church step out. I point to the TV and say, “Mom, look.”
Mom looks at the TV and growls out, “You've got to be kidding me!” She stands up looking furious, yet thoughtful. Suddenly, she grins maliciously and says, “The news pukes want a story? What do you say that I give them one?”
Without waiting for a reply, she turns and goes over to the door. When I hear her yank open the door and then slam it behind her, I unmute the TV as we watch and listen to what is going on outside.
One of the reporters comes over to where Mom standing on the lawn to ask why Mom is glaring at the minister. “Mrs. Williams, what is going on? Why are you looking like you want to kill that priest?”
Mom looks at her, points at the minister and says, “You want to know what’s going on? I’ll tell you. It’s that assholes fault my daughter was almost killed by her father!”
Looking confused, the reporter looks at the minister, then back to Mom and asks, “How is it his fault?”
“By preaching his sick agenda of hate for anyone who might not be straight and her father bought into it, hook, line and sinker.” Realizing what she might have just intimated, she continues, “Her father accused her of being a lesbian because she spent the night with a friend and then beat her while screaming, ‘I’ll kill you before I let you become a lesbian.’ This idiot poisoned her father to the extent that he would rather beat her to death then let her spend time with her friends because it might make her a lesbian.”
The minister tries to defend himself by stating, “The Bible is very clear on this! Woman was made for man and it’s an abomination to be with the same sex!”
Mom yells, “So, your saying that anyone who isn’t straight deserves to be murdered?!”
He flushes, looks at the reporter, then back to Mom and quietly says, “No, that’s not what I’m saying.”
Mariam says, “Is that so? Then why have you repeatedly stated that people who aren’t straight are sick and evil?”
He stammers out, “I-I’m so sorry that happened to Andrea. I never meant for anyone to get hurt. I just want people to live a righteous life.”
Mom looks disgusted as she says, “Tsk… It’s not your place to judge who is or isn’t sick or evil. That’s for God to decide. Whatever, you need to leave now. I don’t want you around us and I damn sure don’t want to hear of you coming close to my daughter. If you do, I’ll have the sheriff on you so fast your head will spin.”
Without another word, he nods. Turning around, he climbs back into his car and leaves.
The reporter asks, “Mrs. Williams, is your daughter gay?”
Mom rolls her eyes and says, “Who cares if she is or isn’t. No matter what, she’s my daughter and I’ll love and protect her. Regardless, if she was, does that make her being almost murdered alright? Does it make her any less of a person? People are people. Why bother focusing on who someone has sex with? It’s really no one else's business. Would it hurt anyone else if you have sex with a girl?” The reporter shakes her head. “Right, and they shouldn’t care either.”
As Mom walks back to the house, the reporter turns to the camera and says, “And there you have it. The young lady was beaten over being accused of being a lesbian. If this doesn’t fall into the realm of a hate crime, I don’t know what does…”
Muting the TV cuts off what she’s saying, I snuggle against Alla, who holds me as tears trickle down my cheeks as I think, ‘Mom may have created far more problems for me than she just solved.’
Once Mom comes back in, she comes over and hugs me. Kissing my cheek, she says, “I love you, baby girl.”
“I love you too, Mom.”
The rest of the day is fairly straightforward, with no more drama, thankfully. Mia and Brittany come over with our homework after school and visit for a while. After dinner, Alla and I do our homework, then take a long hot bath. Donning our nightgowns, we crawl into bed and it isn’t long after she kisses me that I snuggle up and quickly fall asleep.
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