“You woke up this morning in a foul-ass mood and I’m not appreciating it one bit!”
Didi wheels around on her heel, “Well, I don’t appreciate you arranging every little moment of my day! I don’t ever have time for anything I want to do! Let alone time for Sue!”
Emily crosses her arms and stands her ground, “Oh, is that what this is about?”
“No, it’s about you controlling every move I make! You treat me like I’m some kind of fucking 12 year old you have to protect from everyone! In case you didn’t know this, I already have a mother! I don’t need you to protect me or to delegate my time! If I had the ability and hadn’t promised that I wouldn’t, I’d fire you!” That last bit is spit out in anger, but Didi doesn’t take it back. She prepares for the onslaught instead.
Her mind is reeling, but Emily flat refuses to show it. Through gritting teeth she growls, “And if I hadn’t made the same god-damned promise, I’d fucking quit!” She turns on her own heel and storms out of the locker room. Once out in the hallway, she takes a deep breath and plasters on her familiar smile. She knows Didi will soon follow and the argument will continue later. They’re much too professional to let anyone know there are problems between them. That doesn’t stop her, however, from thinking of the things she wishes she could say to Didi as she walks into the media room.
Fucking ungrateful…”Hey Catherine.” ..bitch. Everything I fucking do for you and you just sit there… “Dave, how are you?” like a child and pretend that you’re the center of the free fucking world. “Hey Charlie, is the mic on? Thanks.” I’ll show you…I don’t know how, but I will get you back!” She takes her place on the stage and notices that Didi walked in on her heels and is on her way to the table in front.
She hides the rolling of her eyes and settles the crowd down, “Ladies and gentlemen, we only have time for a few questions, you know Didi is very busy.” Didi reaches the spot reserved for her, right beside Emily. “Be nice, girls and boys. Keep it professional.”
Didi mutters to her, “Don’t do that. Tell them I’ll answer whatever they want to ask, I don’t need your protection.”
Emily stares into the woman’s face a moment. Oh hell naw…okay. If that’s the way you want to play it, then. “I’ve just been told that anything goes, guys! You’ve got half an hour.
She almost protests when Emily leaves her sitting on the stage alone, but her pride won’t let her. Fine. I can do this without you, bitch. “First question?” Emily stands on the periphery and crosses her arms over her chest. She is not smiling, she does not look pleasant, and she is not happy.
Once the question is out, Didi’s face goes white, “What is your relationship with Suzanne Baird? Are you lovers?” She shoots a petrified look at Emily.
Emily calmly gives Didi a look that plainly says, “I told you so.” Then, swallowing the inclination to run on the stage and save Didi from the hell that is about to become her life, she turns and walks out. You’ll learn one fucking way or another, Didi. You can listen to me, or you can do it your way. You choose.
But when she’s sitting alone in the conference room next door, listening to Didi fumble with the questions (about her life, her family, and her lover), that declaration is no consolation for the tears she cries.