Good Woman Blues

  GOOD WOMAN BLUES

  LYNN EMERY

  All names, characters, stories, and incidents featured in this novel are imaginary. They are not inspired by any individual person, incidents or events known or unknown to the author. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is coincidental. GOOD WOMAN BLUES was originally published in 2005. This is a reprint.

  Copyright 2005 Margaret Emery Hubbard

  Smashwords Edition

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  Read the other three Louisiana Love Series: City Girls novels

  ~~~

  Tell Me Something Good

  Soulful Strut

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  Gotta Get Next To You

  More Novels by Lynn Emery

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  A Darker Shade of Midnight

  Between Dusk and Dawn

  After All

  A Time To Love

  One Love

  Happy New Year, Baby

  Prologue

  So, Erikka, how are you today?”

  “Fine, terrific, ready to go home,” Erikka said, in a rush. She even managed a smile for her jailers.

  Dr. Morrow studied her for several seconds, and then picked up her ink pen. “Good.”

  Erikka tapped her long fingernails on the cool surface of the conference table. At the other end Dr. Morrow sat scribbling notes. A social worker named Ellen Crane and a nurse supervisor waited respectfully. Along with the day shift nurse LaKeisha Duncan, they made up the clinical treatment team. The click-clack of Erikka’s acrylic nails sounded too loud because no one was talking. The only other noise was the whisper of pages turning as the nurse read through what Erikka assumed was another set of reports on her behavior. The psychiatrist kept writing, presumably adding to what they knew of one distasteful chapter of Erikka’s life story. Erikka had visions of feeding those pages into a large fire. Dr. Morrow put a period on the end of a sentence and glanced up.“Let’s talk a little about what’s been going on since you were admitted.” Dr. Morrow tilted her head, hair freshly styled, to one side. Her chocolate brown skin looked as though it had been buffed.

  “Sure thing,” Erikka said, forcing her smile wider.

  Bitch. Flaunting the fact that she’d been to the beauty salon. Erikka smoothed down her own tangled hair, badly in need some serious time with her beautician. Then she touched her face. The raised scars felt like the markings on a road map. She wondered for the hundredth time if people were staring at them. When she realized the social worker was indeed watching her, Erikka lowered her hand.

  Okay, she’d gotten herself into this mess, but she was damn sure ready to talk her way out of it. Or at least to try one more time. It had taken Erikka one week to figure out getting pissed didn’t impress them. The only reaction she got from threatening to call her lawyer was smart-assed LaKeisha’s bored “Keep that phone call to ten minutes. Rules.” The second week she’d learned the ropes. Terri, one of her roomies, had helped.

  Learned she had. The women’s psychiatric unit wasn’t that different from the corporate world. You had your share of paranoid conspiracy theorists always watching their backs. Then there were a few patients with delusions of grandeur. Tossed in was a helping of backstabbing lying sociopaths with drug problems. Except for the frankly psychotic shouting back at the voices in their heads, it was another day at the office. Come to think of it, Erikka mused, the screamers weren’t too different from Nadine, one of her former bosses.

  ‘Tell us how you’re feeling now.” Dr. Morrow folded her hands.

  “Much better. This experience has really been a wake-up call for me. I’ve had a chance to think about how I got here. I wasn’t too happy about being locked up, but it gave me a chance to reflect.” Erikka rolled out the answer that she’d rehearsed with coaching from Terri. Part of it was true. With nothing but time on her hands she had been thinking.

  “Good. We’re not expecting miracles. As terrible as it is to wake up in a psych unit, a crisis is an opportunity to implement change.” Dr. Morrow nodded in approval.

  Bingo. Erikka’s smile relaxed into a more genuine curve of her lips. Erikka congratulated herself on hitting a home run. ‘True, true. And I want to apologize again for yelling and being such a witch the first few days.”

  “We understand. We’re all trained to deal with people not at their best,” the flat-faced nurse supervisor put in.

  “Thanks,” Erikka replied.

  “Erikka has done well in the last ten days. She’s participated in the therapeutic groups. We’re pleased with her progress.” The woman droned on, dripping sweetness and light.

  Erikka could have tossed the runny scrambled eggs she’d had for breakfast right then. This nurse put on a sweet act in front of the doctors. The woman turned into Godzilla in cheery pink scrubs in sixty seconds flat if you violated her rules. Still, Erikka included her in the beaming grin she showed. Both knew they’d come to a draw in their battle of wills. Despite her expectations, Erikka and the aides had come to have a warm relationship after muttering, “Screw you” at each other every hour that first day. In fact, most of the staff was cool. Brown-nose Browning strummed on Erikka’s last nerve like she was playing a violin. Still, Erikka would keep her tell-it-like-it-is temper in check. She could do it just one more day.

  After all, hadn’t she talked her way into one of the top accounting firms in New Orleans three years out of school? Hell yes. The management of a former client, a multinational company no less, owed Erikka for pulling their rear ends out of a crack. Their shareholders had been impressed with the cost-cutting measures and increase in profits in her report. Accounting was as much a creative art as oil on canvas. She couldn’t wait to get back and defend her turf. At least three of her colleagues were probably circling her office like buzzards. Dr. Morrow’s voice broke into Erikka’s thoughts on getting back to work.

  “So what will you do differently now?” Dr. Morrow pushed her designer-frame eyeglasses up on her nose.

  Erikka decided to go for a little humor. “Make friends with the local ER docs so I don’t get sent here again.” Only LaKeisha and Erikka laughed.

  Dr. Morrow put down her pen and waited. “Seriously.”

  “Ahem, seriously. I’m not going to use alcohol as a way to cope with stress for one thing. I’ve learned healthy ways to deal with nervous tension. My aunt Darlene over in Loreauville is going to let me stay with her a few days. We decided I shouldn’t jump right back into work.” Erikka gazed at Dr. Morrow for some sign.

  “Your boss suggested you take time off,” Dr. Morrow said mildly.

  Erikka tapped on the table again. Damn if they weren’t good at reading between the lines. Obviously they knew her explanation was a high-gloss version of the real deal. They could at least let her keep a sliver of dignity. Lord knows she had precious little left to work with. Still, Erikka would pull and stretch what she had until it covered her battered ego.

  “Nadine and I talked it over and both agreed it was best for me to be out of the office for a while.” Erikka pressed her foot down to keep her left leg from jumping.

  “Right.” Dr. Morrow continued to wait.

  “I want to get back to my life. Maybe it’s in pieces right now, but more time in here isn’t going to glue it back together.” Erikka sat straight.

  “And rushing back out there to make the sam
e mistakes will?” the social worker asked.

  “Okay, I got a little down, drank too much, and crashed my car. All right, all right. I’d been depressed for a few weeks,” Erikka added, when Dr. Morrow started to dispute her description. “It was stupid, and I don’t usually do stupid things. I was at the top of my class in college. I’m one of the best accountants in New Orleans. Believe me, I can figure this one out.”

  “What about the charges?” Head Nurse from Hell pursed her lips.

  First offense driving while intoxicated and reckless operation of a vehicle. The words clanged in Erikka’s head. They’d dropped the battery on a police officer and criminal mischief charges.

  “I’ll probably get probation and suspension of my driver’s license for six months,” Erikka replied with only a little less pepper in her tone. She had to make more than a few cosmetic changes in her life, their silence implied. Might as well start with her attitude.

  “I’m asking again, what are you going to do differently?” Dr. Morrow said. The other members of the team caught the shift in her voice. Pages stopped turning, and they all looked at Erikka.

  Good question. The psychiatrist’s composed tone drove home a needle-sharp point that wasn’t lost on Erikka. She’d twisted and turned some form of that question around in her head during those early-morning hours when she couldn’t sleep. Her latest plan had come to her with blinding clarity at three in the morning two days ago. Under the fluorescent lighting and with four pairs of seasoned professional eyes gazing at her, the plan was exposed as skimpy. Erikka knew none of the coaching from Terri would work. In fact, laying down a load of bull was not the way to go. The troubling tickle down her back told Erikka the answer wasn’t for them anyway. It was for her.

  “I’m not sure. I mean, I could rattle off the ‘right’ answers like that.” Erikka snapped her fingers. “I had enough tips from my roomies. Drinking is what got my ass in this mess, excuse the language,” she added, when Beth Browning winced in disapproval.

  “We’re being for real in here,” Dr. Morrow said. A little bit of home girl slipped out in her knowing smile.

  “I won’t be back in this or any other hospital. I’m going to handle my problems before they handle me.” Erikka stopped.

  “Good for you,” Dr. Morrow said. “We’re going to schedule a follow-up appointment for you. Keep it.”

  “Definitely,” Erikka replied.

  Dr. Morrow started writing again. Ellen and Beth took turns giving her instructions. That was it. A few minutes of conversation, and she was going home. Tension grabbed at her temples. She didn’t want to end up like Terri, a veteran at talking to psychiatrists in psycho wards around the city. Erikka went down her mental list of changes she’d promised God she would make if he just got her out of here. No drinking, no club crawls on school nights, etc. Geez, she’d set the bar high. How was she going to fill the hours? More work? Vaughn? Not Vaughn. He hadn’t called in over a week. That queasy hollow pit in her stomach took hold again.

  “Erikka?” Dr. Morrow stared at her, head tilted in the pose she assumed when analyzing.

  Erikka blinked and stood. “Yeah, I’m fine. Really. I’ll keep my appointment, join a depression support group, got it.”

  Terri appeared around a comer as Erikka came down the hall from the conference room. Her shoulder-length strawberry blond hair was pulled into a ponytail, making her look younger than thirty-four.

  “Hey, girl. How did it go?”

  “Great. I’m out.” Erikka grinned at her.

  ‘Told you so,” Terri grinned back and hung an arm around Erikka’s shoulder. ‘Tell ’em what they want to hear. Works every time.”

  “I told them the truth,” Erikka said.

  Terri gasped in horror. “Girlfriend, never, ever tell these people the truth. It’s one sure ticket to a long stay.”

  “I actually plan to change. Speaking of which, you might try staying on your meds this time.”

  “You’re going to change. Well, la-dee-da.” Terri sidestepped the reference to her own behavior.

  “Yes.”

  “You’re going to stop getting drunk every weekend and no more clawing your way up the career food chain. Please.” Terri rolled her eyes.

  Erikka shrugged free of Terri’s arm and walked away. “That’s you, Terri.”

  Terri’s eyebrows pulled together. “Oh, yeah.”

  “Yeah,” Erikka tossed back over her shoulder.

  “Wait just a minute, St. Erikka. You’ve got issues, too.” Terri caught up to her.

  “Thank you for that oh-so-perceptive observation. Excuse me while I go pack.” Erikka turned left. Three doors down was the room she shared with Terri and one other patient.

  “I’ll help.”

  “I’ve got a grand total of four outfits. I can handle it.” Erikka went through the open door of their room. The second single bed was hers.

  “I know, I know. Look, I’m sorry about being such a smart-ass.” Terri sat in a chair and pulled her knees up. “I get that way when I’m upset.”

  Erikka stopped piling her few belongings on the bed and turned around. Terri stared at the wall instead of looking at Erikka. Her pale complexion flushed pink, a sign she was dejected.

  “Hey, I’m going to miss you. Not even my baby sister can get on my nerves as well as you. I have to admire that.” Erikka walked over and sat on the arm of the chair.

  Terri sniffed a few times, and then grinned. She fished a tissue from the pocket of her designer jeans and dabbed her nose. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome. You’re going to be okay. Right?” “Sure I will.” Terri’s grin faded.

  Erikka gave her a quick hug. “Who’s the best butt-whuppin’ defense attorney on the East Bank of New Orleans, huh?”

  “I give up. Who?” Terri said softly.

  “Listen here, we are not going to sit on the pity pot today.” When Terri didn’t respond, Erikka squeezed her shoulder. “You can turn it around, sugar. I know you can.” “Going into the hospital has been my crutch to avoid facing life,” Terri said.

  “That’s real insight. Those first few days we had some deep conversations. You gave me a lot more than advice. I appreciate it.”

  “Thanks. People always say they’re going to stay in touch, but— Really, let’s get together sometime. For lunch or something.” Terri looked at her.

  “No doubt.” Erikka stood.

  “God, we’re getting way too mushy.” Terri stood, too. “We’ll celebrate getting out of this expensive snake pit. Drinks on the house.”

  ‘Terri.” Erikka cut a glance at her as she folded her nightgown neatly.

  “Iced tea. I’m talking about iced tea. C’mon, we get our noon gruel in about twenty minutes. Until then I’ll humiliate you one more time in a game of Uno.” Terri gestured for her to follow.

  “I’m going to miss the good times in here.” Erikka dropped the blouse in her hand. “Only twelve more hours of nonstop thrills.”

  “You can always stick around,” Terri said. Her cool green eyes twinkled. “I can show you how to freak out. I’ve had a lot of practice.”

  Erikka shivered. At eight o’clock sharp she’d go back to her world. Even though anxiety competed with anticipation Erikka wouldn’t look back, at the hospital or the mistakes she had made. Moving forward was her main goal. She needed to sort through her options. Maybe the peace and quiet of the country would bring everything into focus.

  “No, thanks. I’ve had enough of Hotel Hell,” Erikka said. “Me, too. I’m not coming back. But then, I’ve said that before.” Terri let out a high-pitched laugh.

  Lord, have mercy. Erikka made a U-turn in the opposite direction. “Catch you in a minute.”

  “What the— Where in hell you going now?” Terri called after her, hands on her narrow hips.

  “One last therapeutic chitchat with the social worker for good luck,” Erikka replied.

  “Think their psychobabble crap will help, huh? Good luck.” Terri snor
ted to punctuate her opinion.

  Erikka turned around. “Beats plowing my car into the wall of a Winn-Dixie store again. That sure as hell didn’t do much for me. Not to mention how it screwed up my social calendar.”

  Chapter 1

  Seven Days later that first burst of joy from being out of the hospital was already gone. Erikka rocked the chair back, balanced on her toes to keep it tilted, and stared at the sky. Life definitely moved slowly in Iberia Parish. The scenery was much the same as when she’d spent summers there as a child. The swhish of cars passing by didn’t disturb the pastoral setting. Thick bushes that sprouted aggressively in the sticky subtropical climate muted mechanical noise. Grass grew by inches overnight. Each breeze carried the scent of green leaves and sticky sweet camellias, gardenias, and honeysuckle. When darkness came crickets chirped so loud Erikka imagined them to be the size of compact cars. They lulled her to sleep the first night. Maybe the contrast to insane women weeping and moaning explained why monster insects didn’t faze her. Erikka stretched out her arms and legs, letting the chair sway with the movement. She waved to a man passing by in a dusty blue pickup truck. Leon? No, that was Leroy. Hell, they were all either Leon or Leroy around here. Same difference, she thought, and went back to staring at the interesting way muggy wind moved wild grass back and forth. She’d been at Aunt Darlene’s one whole week, and the secret to lasting happiness had not popped out of the swamp yet. So much for the mystical powers of the bayou country, she mused. Where was a good voodoo queen when you needed her? Still, there was something to be said for being far away from the scene of your crimes. She’d come 130 miles from New Orleans to Loreauville. That kind of distance had definitely given her a different perspective. The downside was too much thinking.

  Erikka did not remember much about the night she’d crashed her car. What she did remember were the days that led up to it. Now that she had insight, Erikka wasn’t sure what to do with it. She wanted more in her life than chasing success, another hard-bodied man in her bed, or one more party with the best wine and food money could buy. Nothing she’d tried filled her. More of what was the question. Her head hurt every time she tried to grab hold of the answer. She adjusted the dark sunglasses she wore even on cloudy days. Protection; the wide frames hid some of the scars from broken windshield glass. At least Erikka liked to think they did.