Mindf*cked

Josephine waited patiently until the interviews and questions that were randomly fired at the “guest stars” were over, hoping the person she spotted wouldn't leave before she could approach them. After what seemed like an eternity, the show was finally over, and she was able to squeeze through the crowd toward her target. She was frustrated with those who slowed her down to compliment her on her story and future success, but she didn't want to appear rude and brush them off too quickly either. She managed to get to the center of the room, where she had lost sight of the person altogether, not knowing if they were even still around. Finally, she made her way to the back of the room, where she once again spotted the person talking to someone. Josephine politely waited until she was done. As soon as the person walked away, Josephine stepped right up and said, "Hey, Palma." Palma's familiar dark almond-shaped eyes turned to her jade-green ones. For a minute she didn't seem to recognize her. “It’s been a long time,” said Josephine with a smile. Then a flicker of recognition crossed Palma’s features and she smiled. "Oh, hey, I remember you now. Long time no see. You've really made a life for yourself from what I heard. I actually arrived a bit late, but I heard the gist of it." Josephine smiled. "Well, I’ve done my best. How have you been over the years?" "I'm good. Keeping busy. Got four kids now." "Wow," Josephine said with surprise. "I remember you had a six-year-old daughter at the time." Palma blinked with surprise, and Josephine hoped she hadn't said too much. "Yeah, yeah. Good memory, girl. Good memory." "And a journal. I've been keeping a journal since the ’80s, and I kind of referred to it before the interviews." In truth, she'd only made a quick glance through it because Josephine had a great memory. The more she liked someone or found something interesting, the more she tended to remember. But then she often remembered the most mundane things that no one, including her, really cared about. “That's great,” said Palma. “I hate to run, but I need to look for a nanny for my three youngest kids.” “No problem,” said Josephine as she and Palma began to head toward the corridor. “If I still lived in the area I would offer to help, but I'm only here for a couple more days. If you need help until then, I could give you a hand, as I don't have anything better to do than sit in my hotel room for the most part.” "You have experience with kids?" "Plenty. Isn’t the oldest on her own now, though?" Palma nodded. "How old are the others?" "They range from 9 to 15. Come on, follow me." Josephine followed, not sure which surprised her more—the fact that she was seeing Palma after all these years, or that she was actually following her for a potential job, as short-lived as it might be. The two women wormed their way through the crowd, Palma exchanging greetings with a few people along the way, and then they were finally out in the dry, raging heat of the desert. "What are you driving?" asked Palma. "I'm not. I taxied over from the hotel." "I'm starving. Rather than take you to my house in Goodyear, I thought we could go to Denny's or something like that and discuss things there." "Sounds like a plan," Josephine said, still with both surprise and confusion running through her. They entered Denny's a few minutes later. The restaurant felt wonderfully cool after being out in the blazing heat. Because it was after dinner on a weeknight, few patrons were in the restaurant and therefore the service was prompt. The waitress brought them soft drinks while Palma left someone a voice message to let them know where she was. From what Josephine could understand, she might have been talking to a sitter who assured her she didn't mind waiting longer. Palma ended the call, and Josephine studied her. She'd put on a few pounds but had aged well overall and looked great. "You barely look a day older, and I never give a compliment I don't mean." Palma smiled, eyeing her intently. "So, Palma. Hey, what's your first name, anyway? I remember the initial J." Palma smiled wider and even gave a chuckle. "Janice." Josephine went silent for a few seconds as she digested the revelation of Palma's first name after all these years. "Janice?" "Yup. Just Janice. Not what you expected?" Josephine shook her head, surprised by what she'd always considered a bit of an ugly name. "No. I would have guessed something like Juanita, Janessa, or something like that. I guess you just don't look like a Janice. The Palma habit may be hard for me to break anyway, and it may take me time to get used to this Janice thing." "No reason you can't still call me Palma." They gave the waitress their orders, and then Palma got down to business. "Okay, so you said in the interview that you're now living in Cali?" Josephine nodded. "Yes." "It's trickling back into my memory slowly, what memories I do have of you. Weren't you married?" "I was until I lost my husband to cancer." Palma's expression darkened. "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. I lost my dad to the same thing last year." "That's horrible. I lost both my parents and my brother all in the same year, six years ago. Dad died of a heart attack, Mom a stroke, and big bro of liver cancer. He basically drank himself to death after his sixteen-year-old son was killed in a traffic accident in the ’90s." Palma's eyebrows shot up. "Oh man, that sucks shit big time." "Yeah, but it was the first time I was actually glad we weren't that close; otherwise, I think I would have cracked up completely. Damn near did when I lost Burton." "Well," Palma said, almost as if she wasn't sure she had the right words—or if words even existed in Josephine's case, "they say human endurance is pretty amazing and that we can survive things we never thought we could until we actually do." "True. So what about you? Mind my asking how old you are?" "48. You don't look 50." Josephine smiled as the waitress placed her chicken dinner in front of her and Palma's shrimp dinner in front of her. They began eating quietly for a moment or two. Then Palma said, "I'm going through things in my mind to remember you." "I was the one with Mary Grime who told you I had a crush on you. Then I would tell you jokes on a regular basis and make you laugh while scrambling to hide whatever contraband I could from you." Palma didn't say anything, and Josephine wondered if she'd been too blunt—especially with the crush reminder. "Look, I'll be honest with you. I don't have much stuff, which I don't care about anyway, but I need money and I don't have much of that these days. If you need a nanny, I'll give you a few references, and I'll be willing to relocate. God knows I miss the heat. It's unbearable but it's wonderful at the same time. Winters aren't exactly brutal in the location I'm in, but they're plenty long and cold enough." Palma's thick, dark, and perfectly plucked eyebrows jumped. "Seriously?" "I wouldn't joke about such a thing. What shift are you on nowadays at the jail?" she asked as she took a bite of her chicken. "Not at the jail anymore," Palma said. "Wow, really? Why not?" Palma shrugged. "Just needed a change. It's part of advancing in life. If you don't move up, life moves up without you, you know?" Josephine nodded. "What are you doing now?" "Manager at a chemical plant." Silence lingered a moment longer, and then she spoke in the same authoritative voice Josephine remembered from the past. "Okay, let's go get your things from the hotel and see how you do with my kids. If they don't like you for any reason, back to the hotel you go." Josephine smiled. "Fair enough, boss."