Joy and Pain

 Joy and Pain

In another hotel room across the hall from where the unholy tryst was taking place, sat three other people who had one thing in common. They were all interested parties in the goings-on between the woman and the man who were currently engaged in sexual acrobatics in the California style king-sized bed.

Margaret Claudette Richardson and Stanford Morris Clayton Jr., had more than enough space to do anything they wanted to do. She was lithe enough to be manipulated and he was strong and virile enough to handle her mature lovemaking. As perverted as it may have seemed, it was indeed a great match because they fit together like pieces of a perfectly constructed puzzle.

But there was another scenario being played out in the room across the hall, and neither one of the lovers were aware that the other was being twice duped. In other words, Stanford Jr., did not know that he was being used as a means to get back at his own mother, and Claudette had no idea that one of the reasons he'd been so readily agreeable to their union was because he himself was a pawn in someone's else's game. He was being maneuvered by the master game player in a match for retaliation against his own father.

Let me explain. Some time ago, Helena Clayton was involved in a brief affair with a man named Griffin McCoy. At the time of the affair, Griffin was separated (but not divorced) from his wife Honor. The affair between Griffin and Helena lasted only a couple of months, but it was long enough for Griffin to fall in love with her. Griffin already had a grudge against Stanford Clayton that was the result of an encounter on the golf course. He had hoped that one day he could get his revenge. Initially, he began to come onto Helena (when she brought her Audi into the dealership for servicing) as a way to get his payback; but he had not counted on having real feelings for her.

Then, her husband found out, and beat her up badly. Griffin vowed revenge against him again for another reason...the violence against the woman he loved, and for being pathetic enough afterwards that she took him back. Honor McCoy wanted her own opportunity for getting satisfaction against Helena Clayton. And to have Helena's only male child having an affair with one of her own best friends was simply too delicious to pass up! But...how did she manage to finagle Stanford Jr., into the situation?

It's like this you see. Claudette hatched the master plan in her own sick mind. She approached Stanford one night at one of his local hangouts. She was able to persuade him easily enough into agreeing to sleep together because as part of his nature; he is like a dog in heat when it comes to sexy women, and let's face it...Claudette is one sexy gal. Okay...now Honor just happened to witness Claudette and Stanford together that night, and when she saw Claudette's hand coyly come to rest on Stanford's thigh, she immediately became suspicious. So, while they were in deep conversation and ignorant of being watched, she slipped into the booth behind them where she could comfortably eavesdrop.

She heard enough to know when and where they were planning to meet. She then contacted Griffin, brought him up to speed, and Griffin made a phone call of his own to the third interested party; a young woman by the name of Goddess Blessing. Honor had met Goddess when she had come into her boutique to shop. It seemed as if the woman had a bottomless purse. She spent a great deal of money and brought along several friends and her sisters who had limitless funds as well. Honor and Goddess became personal friends, and Honor's revenue from her shop skyrocketed to the top.

It turned out that Goddess was from a very, very rich old southern family who were the descendants of a prominent family who were pioneers in the mercantile business. She lived on a huge trust that had been left to her and her sisters from somebody that had died a long time ago. She and her sisters lived a for real jet set lifestyle and were used to having only the best in life as well as having their own way. Goddess was the last woman that had been jilted by our young buck, and was more than willing to take part in the plot. Now...admittedly...Goddess was partly responsible for the breakup, but hey; what can I say? A woman scorned...a rose by any other name...right?

So, Goddess was best friends with the woman who was head of HR for this hotel, and it was no problem for her to gain access to the room and provide a setup for the three partners in crime to do their thing.

Stay tuned next week to find out more about the goings on in the room across the hall, and more about what they plan to do with what they have witnessed.

Don't miss it!!

A Thin Line Between Love and Hate

Friends. Everyone needs them, and they can add so much to a person's life...support, encouragement, love, fun and a shoulder to cry on. Friends can do so much with so little; just by saying "I'm here for you". They can cheer us on when we feel like giving up and they can pull us up when the stuff of life drags us down. We trust them with our spare keys, our garage openers, our children, our secrets and our home security codes.

But sadly, there is too often a darker side to some friendships. Sometimes a person will cross over the line and breach that trust and that unity that we take for granted. Sometimes the reasons are obvious; then again they are obscured from view and from understanding.

The very best of friends have occasion over the course of time to disagree and actually argue about differences of opinions and other things. They have "falling outs" among them. The good news is that more often than not these disagreements are proceeded by a reconciliation with no residual hard feelings and life goes on.

Not so in the case of the "falling out" between two of the Grandmother friends. After all is said and done, one of them will decide not to forgive or forget and will harbor ill feelings that quickly escalate into something ugly and potentially dangerous. One will be the perpetrator and one will be the immediate victim; but the bond of sisterhood that previously existed between all four Grandmothers will have suffer serious fallout.

Will they choose up sides like children in a playground fight? Will this be the beginning of the end of the twenty-five year friendship? Will there much finger-pointing and accusations?

It's a "thin line between love and hate", and that's not only for love affairs gone wrong either. Many believe that the opposite of love is not hate but indifference. That indifference can become a deadly accessory when used as an insulator for a cold and uncaring heart.

Betrayal and Revenge

We've all heard these words before..."To err is human, and to forgive is divine". And these words could hold as much truth as they do wisdom. But, they could also be easier said than done especially when the person on the receiving end of the natural side of the forgiveness is one of your best friends. Treasured and loved like a sister.

Revenge is sweet. Revenge is a dish best served cold. "Revenge is mine"...saith the Lord. But when you're on the receiving end of the betrayal...it's easier said than done.

What happens when friendship turns sour? What events can make a tried, tested and true friend become a turncoat? How do best friends cope with betrayal from one of their own?

We'll see just what has gone down between two of the best friends in The Real Grandmothers of Charlotte, and what the resulting repercussions of the foursome's friendship are along with the effects they will all have to learn to live with. 

It's time to keep it real.  

It's An Elementary Murder, Holmes

The police had been to question her, or perhaps she should call them precisely what they are; Homicide Detectives. Although she was very sure that they would come, and that it was certainly a routine part of any murder investigation; to question everyone that could even be remotely involved or would have any information relative to the investigation. But, she had to admit that they certainly did not waste any time coming round to see her. Alexis had maintained her calm and answered their questions with an honest clarity. She simply told them what she herself had been told by Abigail Vanderberry during that life-changing phone call yesterday. Really? Was it only yesterday that all of this had happened?

Yes, it was only yesterday as far as her part in this was concerned, but the murder of Bryce Meyers had taken place two days ago. Forty eight hours from meeting his bride-soon-to-become-his-wife at the altar, forty year old Bryce Alexander Meyers had been been the victim of a fatal close-up gunshot to the heart, dealt him by that same bride-soon-to-become-his-wife.

Alexis had met Bryce on several occasions when he and Abigail had come to her office to discuss and finalize the wedding/honeymoon plans that required them to make decisions as a couple. He made a good impression on Alexis; not because of his deep pockets, but because he seemed to be a genuinely nice guy. He wasn't an in-your-face type of guy. He was sort of quiet with impeccable manners and a soothing persona. Physically, he was tall and just average looking. He wasn't a very handsome guy, but he definitely possessed a confidence that was attractive in itself, and he had a strong magnetism about him that was almost palpable. He had never given Alexis any hint of a dishonest streak. This is exactly what she had told the two officers who had come to question her.

Detectives Mercer Holding and Artie Callahan had looked at her and then at each other with a smugness that bordered on arrogance. They were already to wrap this case up and charge Abigail with first degree murder. Detective Holding had snapped her laptop closed with a finality that she expressed in words as she stood to leave. She had said that it was probably an open-and-shut case, and as she looked to her partner for confirmation, she made the remark, " It's an elementary murder, my Mr. Holmes!" Detective Callahan nodded in agreement. He then added that "We have got your client, Abigail Vanderberry dead to rights. We've even got the smoking gun." I swear they both laughed as they prepared to leave.

Their enthusiasm seemed to be out of place and their eager-beaver attitude to see Abby behind bars  was almost obscene. No matter the circumstances, a man was dead. He had family who loved him, ...and oh mercy...his poor mother! This was the first time Alexis had thought about his mother.  Megan Meyers must be beside herself with grief. There was no imagining the anguish she must be feeling; the helplessness and the pain of knowing her son had been murdered.

Alexis had wished for the thousandth time that Abigail had told her more during that phone call. After Claudette had come over, and she had poured enough brandy down her throat to revive her into a semblance of reality, Alexis had tried to call Abigail back on both her cell and her land line phone. Of  course there had been no answer on either, and surprisingly, the voice mail greetings had been erased.  She had had no other chance to contact Abby, having seen news of her arrest on the morning news earlier today.

It appeared that the noise from the gunshot had been called in to 911 by an "anonymous" person who didn't wish to be identified, and when the police arrived they found Abby at the scene, sitting on the floor beside the body of the love of her life...her soul mate who was dead from the .9mm bullet that went straight through his heart.

She was still holding the gun in her hand. Sherlock and Holmes must have wet themselves with glee.

Sin and Redemption

When the music has stopped playing, when daylight has replaced the night, when silence is all that can be heard and when there's no place left to hide...what remains is glaring reality.  Revenge and its reverberating after shocks has been celebrated realized. The strange effects of a well-played and falsely gratifying act of betrayal has turned into a hollow victory that has left a sour taste and an empty feeling where the rhythm of a normal beating heart once was. Her world had shrunk down to the dimensions of her master suite from which she had left only a few times to make quick trips to the kitchen for coffee, and to answer the door to accept the pizza deliveries.

Claudette was completely alienated from her friends. What did she expect after all that she had done? But, you see therein lies the caveat. She didn't expect anything from them.  She knew that her actions would alienate her from the women who had been her friends for twenty five years. At least one of them had probably been her true friend. There were others in Claudette's world who had been more than happy to report back to her about the overheard conversations, and snide remarks whispered behind closed doors that they had covertly been privy to. These fair weather friends had gleefully attached themselves to her and behaved as if they were doing her a favor by bringing her information. She truly regretted having to distance herself from Bonnie though, but there was no help for it. Her friendship with Bonnie ended up as collateral damage.

As far as Alexis was concerned, she was fully aware that they only tolerated each other for the sake of appearances, and although Claudette didn't exactly dislike Alexis, there was definitely no love lost between them either. and she fully realized that by sleeping with Stanford Jr., she had crossed all lines and had broken so many trusts that now as she resided in her own private hell, all shreds of self respect and common decency had disappeared.

It had been a full week since the last part of the destructive plan had been played out. She had been sure that her absence wouldn't take long to detect when she had slipped away from Bonnie's house. To make things seem normal and not to arouse suspicion too early, she had followed the crowd down to the garden where the main party event was being held, carefully being nonchalant and chatty as they strolled across the lavish lawn where so many people were mingling, eating and drinking gaily. No one had an inkling of what was to come.

Honor's arrival with Goddess and her sidekick was precisely timed. Claudette had stood behind Alexis and watched the planned scene unfold until the predetermined moment arrived for her to slip away unnoticed was when Helena had everyone's attention and was acting out her part just as if she was on a Broadway stage that Claudette silently turned and walked away; weaving through the crowd that had gathered to watch the drama.

She had gone straight to her home, and gone underground. Fortunately for her, La Monica (her youngest daughter) was to be away for two weeks, making it easy for Claudette to seclude herself without having to make any conversation or explanations for the recent tragedy of events. Now that the week was coming to a close, she'd had an excess of time to gloat, to pat herself on the back, to try and reassure herself that what she did was justifiable, and now that she had run the gamut of celbratory self denial, other feelings were creeping in her subconscious.

These feelings were jockeying for first place in her mind. They wanted to be prominent and upstage the previous feelings she'd managed to enjoy for a few days. The fact that she'd feel victorious and jubilant when Helena finally got what was coming to her was the only thing that spurred her on to see this malevolent plot through to the finish. In her twisted mind, Helena had become the enemy that must be dealt with, in the most harshest way possible.

Well, it had worked out precisely the way she and Honor had visualized and planned for. The look of absolute shock followed immediately by a look of so much hurt and disbelief that had shown on Helena's face was tragic. Claudette had felt exulted when she first watched these emotions play across her former friend's face. That same exultation had sustained her for three days. But when she woke up this morning from a night filled with bad dreams and plagued with horrible images of Satan and hell fire, she began to feel regret and remorse. She realized with a heavy thudding of her heart that she would no longer be able to keep these self-recriminations at bay. They were about to surface  in a thundering second act.

Everywhere she looked she saw shapeless images that played a stealthy game with her; advancing and retreating. She had begun to hear noises and strange sounds. She had begun to be wary of the shadows in the corner of her room, where she saw the accusatory faces of her friends. She could still smell the cloying odor of the sex she'd had with Helena's son. She saw his unsuspecting face when she looked in the mirror.

Redemption. Is that what she needed? Would she ever find it? Did she deserve it? So many questions; she felt as if her brain would explode. Collateral damage, sinner, whore, slut, sin...the awful stench of what she had done was overpowering her. What would she do and where could she turn?

Walk on By...

She stared down at the book in her lap, unseeing and having her mind going at breakneck speed in twenty different directions. She may as well have been carved out of stone because her body was as rigid and as still as a statue. The page in the book she held had not been turned for a time. Was it only yesterday that this book had held such interest for her? It was picked up and then opened to the bookmarked page all out of an automatic reflex to touch something...do something that would keep her mind from spinning out of control. Speaking out loud to the empty room as she stumbled about...nearly losing her balance trying to find her way in the dark, she was grasping at anything to make her forget if only for a while.

The pain had to be dulled. If it didn't surely she would die. She almost wanted to die. There were still a few Xanax left in the bottle, and if not her script was good for a refill. One refill would do it if it came to that. All of these disconnected and jumbled thoughts vied for attention in her mind as the old throwback soul ballad "Walk On By" sung by Dionne Warwick played on a loop in the background. Unaware that she was doing so, she began a pitiful rendition of the song, singing in an off- key barely above a whisper voice. "If you see me walking down the street...and I start to cry each time we meet...walk on by...walk on by. Foolish pride...that's all I have left so let me hide...the tears and the sadness you gave me when you said goodbye". Empty, unseeing eyes and an invasive cold vise squeezing her bruised heart, stripped of pride...all of them the products of a shattered dream...this was the picture she made.

She did not want to think or to feel any emotions right now. Nothing at all. She willed her mind to become blank and for the most part it was starting to happen, but lingering on the fringes was the bitter regret she felt because of her recent actions. Although the longed for relief of a blanked out mind was welcome to her, she had no doubts about the guilt that was even now festering away at her soul and would come soon enough at her in a full body slam.

It had not gone well between her and him. It was nothing at all the way she had dreamed it would be. For many nights she had lain awake or been awakened from the little sleep she managed to get with thoughts of the two of them spinning around and around in her head. Pushing out any other everyday mundane thoughts until they dominated all logical reasoning and she was drowning in her desire for him. Spiraling down deeper and deeper into a personal hell where she may never climb out of.

This should not have happened. None of this was right; it was all wrong. He'd made promises to her and he'd given her his word that she was the woman for him, and that it didn't matter not one whit to him what others may think or say. He was in love with her. He SAID...he PROMISED!! Oh my God...what am I going to do? A feeble part of her asked this question while almost simultaneously the tiny remaining cognizant corner of her psychosis ridden mind chastised and reminded her that the loving, kind and perfect God she had once served would not be listening to her.

Then, almost as if a high wattage jolt had hit her body, she jerked herself upright, and immediately snapped out of her pathetic reverie. What had suddenly occurred to her was a frightening...yet oddly comforting thought. REVENGE! She convinced herself that she didn't have to take this treatment form any man...didn't have to roll over and play dead like a trained dog. She'd been hurt, scorned, used and left for dead, but oh no! Ain't nobody got time for that! She'd pay him back and she'd do it good...real good.

What are your thoughts and comments? Next week...the Big Reveal and the identity of the characters will be unveiled!! Be sure to come back.

On the Road to Perdition...Part One

Myranda Clayton Rice felt and looked the worse for wear. She had been out fall night partying with some people she was friendly with because she certainly could not call them friends. The word 'friend' in its definitive term did not factor into her vocabulary because truthfully she did not know of one single solitary soul she could pin the word to. At the ripe old age of thirty-eight, she had very little to show for her life on this earth. So very different from her la-DE-da younger sister Regina, or her bourgeois older brother Stanford Jr.

Her life had been on a steady downward spiral for the past two years. And typical of people with her particular brand of personality and who possessed the long list of disorders that she did always put the blame on others. They did not take responsibility for their own actions and out of an exaggerated sense of entitlement never failed to see their wrongs as a conspiracy against them. The world was to blame and all of the more fortunate folks in it had conspired to hold her and those like her who were down on their luck back from achieving any kind of a better life.


Why should she have it so hard? Ever since that bastard Palmer got into trouble and went to prison she had not been the same. Sure, she realized that she had some problems...who wouldn't have after going through what she went through? Losing her financial freedom, losing her husband (who she discovered was a liar, a cheat and on the down-low as well to add insult to injury) and most of all having to leave her own children. While she was in rehab the first time right after all this happened, her parents took the kids to care for. They didn't exactly turn them against her, but when she got out and tried to put her life back together, they acted like she was a stranger. That hurt like hell.

The men and women with whom she caroused the night away with were a rag tag collection of losers made up of druggies, prostitutes and some cons on the run from the law. She didn't care anything about their backgrounds. All she cared about was where and how she'd get her next fix or drink. Long as they kept coming, her companions mattered little to her. They were just disembodied faces with no names.

Thankfully, her sister Regina sent her money once a month that was supposed to be going toward her education expenses for the courses she had enrolled for at the local community college. Her classy, upstanding parents would not hand over a dime in cash to her, but agreed to pay for books and class essentials, but Regina's money was meant for her personal use. She had started classes and was aspiring to be a gourmet chef, but after only one semester she had dropped out. Naturally, Helena and Stanford soon found that out, but it was a miracle that Regina didn't know.

It wasn't a loss of interest that caused her to do so, it was because she had met up with this guy (lets' call him Dwayne) who convinced her that she'd be better off working as an apprentice of sorts and getting her training on the job. So, he introduced her to another guy (lets' call him JT) who worked as a chef in a mid-town restaurant and he agreed to speak to the manager on her behalf. It was all on the up and up with the chef guy. He was really intending to help Myranda get a job in his restaurant, but Dwayne was planning on running a con game.

Well, Dwayne told her that his chef friend JT was looking to strike out on his own and if he did, she could probably be co-owner with him. Trouble was, he needed some investors to help him get his business off the ground and if she could manage to raise five thousand dollars she could get in on the ground floor.

Long story short, Myranda managed to raise the five grand by selling an heirloom piece of jewelry she lifted from her mother's house on a rare occasion she went to visit. The diamond studded brooch sold for seven thousand five hundred dollars and she promptly handed over the five to Dwyane and tried to save the rest. That did not last long. As soon as she found out that she had been scammed, she sank into a depression so deep she wanted to die. In fact, she had been placed on suicide watch for the first month of her committ,ment. Once again, Helena and Stanford took Julia and Kirk home with them.

Palmer's parents; Walker and Ruby Hendricks and Steve and Linda Rice (his father's second wife is Linda) tried to get involved. Of course Myranda's parents were more than agreeable to visitation and keeping the kids familiar with both sets of their fathers parents. Only the second time around, Palmer's mother Ruby thought that she and her husband should share equal custody with the Claytons. It got to be one big royal pain to deal with, but they were no match for Stanford and his legal eagles, so Julia and Kirk remained with Helena and Stanford.

Two years went by, and Myranda was released into the care of her parents. For a while all was fine, and she seemed to be making remarkable progress. The setback came when Regina admitted to her that she had had an affair with Palmer before he met her and that she was the one to break it off. This breakup had sent him running into the arms of her sister, and that every time they were thrown together Palmer missed no opportunity to tell her that Myranda had been second choice....


Stay tuned for Part Two!!