Remember the Time

Chapter 117

“Didn’t I tell y’all to stop yelling in this damn car?” Mariah shouted. “Huh?”

Noelle looked up at her mother, a look of concern washed over her face. “Mommy, I was just tellin’ to babysister, and she keep-”

“Did I ask you anything, little girl?”

Michael huffed. “Mariah, did you not hear what I just said to you? You need to stop talking to our kids that way. Calling her ‘little girl’? She’s your daughter-”

“Michael, shut the fuck up! These are my gotdamn kids! Just shut up!” She screamed, her throat piercing from all the shouting.

“See, this is what I can’t stand about your ass! You don’t know how to act like a fucking adult when you need to be! And that nasty ass fucking attitude you been having lately, can’t blame this shit on a baby since you’ve been this way for months now, Mariah.” He retorted.

“You know what, kiss my ass, how about that one, Michael. Kiss my ass! I cannot deal with your bullshit today. Pissing me the hell off! You got some nerve talking about me when your dumbass keeps getting played, scammed out of millions from little boys-”

Michael interjected. “You know that? I am sick and tired of you! That’s why I never wanna be around your ass! I’m a dumbass? I’m a dumbass? But baby, you were too dumb to notice Diana fucking me every single day for months on end while you were pregnant.” He lowered his voice to a sinister whisper. “Every day I fucked her and every day her pussy tasted better and better than yours, you pathetic tramp.”

Mariah froze.

What the hell did he just say…

She felt the heat leave her body, her phone suddenly seeming so much heavier in her hand. She looked over at her daughters, oblivious to the conversation between their parents. She swallowed the painful lump in her throat as she managed to muster up a reply--tears stinging her eyes.

“I want a divorce.”

July 11th, 2001

Pat was sitting in her living room reading a book on financial advice when her doorbell rang.

Who could that be?

She set down her book on the coffee table and got up from her chair to go answer the door. Once she reached the door, she stopped to look through the​ peephole to see who it was.

What is really going on?

Pat opened​ the door​ and there stood her youngest child with three little girls, a large bag over her shoulder, and a barely visible baby bump. “Mariah, what's going on? What are you doing here?”

Mariah didn't answer, instead ushering the three little girls into the house and dropping the bag on the floor by the couch. “Girls, you may not remember, but this is your grandma, Pat. You're gonna be staying here while mommy goes to work, okay?”

“Wait, what? Mariah-”

Mariah stood up, reached down in her purse, and pulled out some cash. “Here you go. That should be enough for the week.”

Pat grabbed her daughter's wrist, and pulled her around to face her. “Mariah, what is going on? Where is Michael?”

Pat knew Michael would never allow her to babysit the children, especially not while Katherine and Alfred were in New York.

Mariah shrugged. “Don't know, don't care. He's not my husband anymore.”

Oh, God. What happened while I was gone?