Free My Life as a Doormat (in Three Acts) by Rene Gutteridge Page A

Why it took three attempts to get his name out was unclear, but his face opened up with an eager smile and bright eyes. “I’m here because I would like to learn more about resolving conflict. I feel it’s one area of my life that could really use some attention. God wants all of us to try to live in peace with one another, and so I’m here to try to find a way to do that while addressing the problems my church faces.”
    â€œWhat kind of problems?” Cinco asked, as if completely unaware that Marilyn was the group leader. Marilyn looked curious too. And it seemed my hives had stopped spreading long enough for me to focus.
    Reverend Jones glanced around the circle, then with a humble slump stated, “There’s been a hostile takeover.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?” Marilyn asked.
    â€œAt my church. My committee has taken over.”
    Only silence answered the poor reverend. He looked up from staring at his feet and shrugged, a small smile acknowledging he felt it a bit absurd too. “It all started with the choir robes,” he continued. “After forty years of maroon, some of us thought it might be time for a color change. Things just got out of control after that.”
    â€œReverend, I’m glad you’re here,” Marilyn interjected quickly, halting Cinco as he opened his mouth to add what I supposed would be some commentary on the situation. “Sounds like you’re in the right place.”
    Next up was a small woman I’d hardly noticed before. She was sitting on the other side of my handbag, and I hadn’t even been sure what she looked like up until now. I studied her face. She had small features, including a tiny nose that tipped a bit upward toward narrow, plain brown eyes. Her hair was fastened to the nape of her neck with bobby pins, and she wore an out-of-date skirt and glasses that looked like they could swallow her head. She was smiling, laughing almost, through her obvious insecurity. I worried that at a moment’s notice she might burst into tears. I knew the feeling. Through a tight grin she managed to state her name: Carol. But after that, nobody could hear anything, including me, and I was practically sitting right next to her.
    â€œCarol, nobody can hear you. Could you speak up?” Marilyn asked.
    Carol nodded but still couldn’t be heard on her second attempt. Marilyn looked to me for what I guessed was an interpretation. I heard every fourth or fifth word of the third attempt, but was unable to gather enough. “Carol is hoping to be more assertive in her life,” I said, glancing at Carol, who smiled broadly at me. Then she looked at Marilyn and nodded.
    â€œGlad to have you, Carol. By the end of this class, you’ll have no problem with that.” Then Marilyn turned to me. “Leah, why are you here?”
    My fingers clawed through my tangled hair, and I smoothed it around the exposed side of my neck. I tried to smile, but my lips quivered and I felt the heat return. In the best way I knew how, inspired by my new friend Carol, I lifted my head and met Marilyn’s eyes.
    That was the million-dollar question. Or, with a coupon, the eight-hundred-thousand-dollar question.

Chapter 7
    [She shivers.]
    T hat was priceless. Really. I knew you were creative, but that, my friend, took you to an entirely new level. And to say it with such conviction. Maybe you missed your calling as an actor.
    Rain poured. The wipers swiping back and forth across my windshield weren’t loud enough to drown out Jodie’s voice, even with the squeak. So I let her continue. A good berating helped me unleash my guilt sometimes. And I had enough anger going right now that I wasn’t paying too much attention to the guilt anyway.
    I do hope Edward never shows up, because I doubt he could pass for your brother. But what a heartwarming story you told. My goodness. Had it been true, you might’ve landed yourself in People