Turning the Tables: From Housewife to Inmate and Back Again (30 page)

In the late spring, a new inmate came to Danbury who knew one of my close friends back home. She kept telling people that she couldn’t wait to meet me and tell me that we had a mutual friend.

The Stalker and Trouble got wind of this before I did and, of course, started asking New Girl all kinds of questions about me. When Tonya found out about this, she told me to be careful around New Girl. “She’s talking shit about you,” she said.

“And?” I responded, “I don’t even know this person. Who cares?”

I told Tonya I would tell my friend back home about all of this when I got out of prison, but I ended up adding that friend to my email list because I needed to talk to her about something else, totally unrelated. When I emailed her, she asked me if I had met her friend, New Girl. I told her that New Girl was talking smack about me, and of course, my friend got mad.

My friend back home said something to New Girl, who was friends with Shaniqua. New Girl got really upset about this. She said she didn’t want to start trouble with me at all. Shaniqua was mad, so she confronted the Stalker and Trouble about it, and wow did they get into it. They were all screaming at each other.

Tonya was furious that I had told my friend about it, because now the Stalker and Trouble knew that she had told me. The rumor had come full circle, and she was pissed. “You are leaving in December, but I have to still live with these people!” she said. I told her that I didn’t mean any harm—that my friend asked me a question, and I answered it like a grown woman, not thinking it would be a big deal.

“You lied to me!” she said, screaming in my face. “You said you were gonna talk to your friend after you got out! Now you’ve made trouble for me in here!” I told her that I hadn’t lied.

After dinner, I was walking the track when Shaniqua came up to me, asking me what happened with Tonya’s friend. She said trouble was brewing. I was like, “What now?”

Tonya was standing near the track with Trouble, watching all of this. She looked pissed off. “Get over here, Teresa,” she said in front of about twenty other inmates.

I did not like the tone of her voice, and you know by now how much that gets me mad. When I walked over to her, she started questioning me about everything that had happened. I didn’t like that she was doing this in front of Trouble, who had a big mouth. One of the biggest in there.

“I’m not doing this right now,” I said to her as I turned and walked away.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” she said. “Don’t you walk away from me! Come back over here, you fucking bitch!”

I turned around but kept walking.

“You heard me, bitch. Get back here!”

I turned around again and she yelled something out, but I couldn’t hear her. No one would tell me what she said, either.

Finally, I said, “all the drama!”

“No, Teresa,
you
are the drama!”

I laughed and kept walking until I got back down to the track.

While she was screaming at me, every woman out there had stopped dead in her tracks, not wanting to miss a second of the latest episode of
Danbury Daycare
. I hated being in the spotlight like this. My blood was boiling. But I just kept going. I was proud of myself for not getting into it with her. The old Teresa would have wanted to grab her and drag her down the sidewalk. But I didn’t want to take the bait. It just wasn’t worth it to me. I didn’t want to get a shot for fighting with her, and I wanted to change how I reacted to people who were firing at me.

I walked over to Nikki, who’d been inside the gym when all this was going on. Everyone was already talking about it, so she had heard the story.

“Are you OK?” she said.

“I’m fine. I’m just shocked at what Tonya said. I had no idea she was like that. I really thought we were friends. But she went too far.”

I went back inside and watched
The Real Housewives of Orange County
to try to take my mind off Tonya. After head count, I took a shower and went back to the cubicle. I climbed into bed and shut out the light.

Tonya came in fifteen minutes later. She climbed up into her bunk. She leaned her head over her bunk and told me she was sorry. I stayed calm even though I was almost as mad as when I flipped that table way back when. “I cannot believe you said that to me in front of all those people,” I said. “I don’t want to be involved in any drama in here at all. I don’t want people talking about me, and now, because of this, they’re going to talk about this fight for the next week. You know how they are.”

“I was just really mad that you caused me so much trouble,” she said.

“Well, next time you need to handle it a lot better than you did today,” I said. “I’m going to sleep now.”

I shut my eyes and rolled over to get comfortable, but with my adrenaline pumping, I was wide awake. I was so furious that she had done that to me. While I felt sad about trusting yet another person who let me down, I was proud of myself for walking away. That was huge for me. A turning point. All the inspirational books I was reading in there, all the praying and Bible study groups I was going to, and the yoga and meditation I was doing, had totally changed the way I reacted to things. I almost couldn’t believe it. I finally fell asleep, thanking God for looking out for me and helping me get through all of this.

Soon after, though, Tonya and I talked things through and I realized that she had a great point. Long after I left, she would still have to deal with these women, who could be vicious. I was sorry that things had gotten so tense with us, but I was also grateful for such an amazing lesson in restraint, understanding, and forgiveness. I was glad things were all right with Tonya and me again, because she meant a lot to me in there.

T
hroughout the summer, Joe and the girls kept telling me about that Bravo special,
Teresa Checks In
. They were so excited about it. I was, too, but at the same time, I was upset about it. I didn’t want to watch them on TV. I wanted to
be
there with them—and for a while, I sat there feeling sorry for myself, until a friend of mine in prison wisely said, “Hey girl. Everyone in here is dying to know what is going on at home without us there and how our kids are doing—and you are gonna
see
them! No one gets to do that, so you are damn lucky!” She was right. While I knew I would be crying when I saw it, I also wanted to see my home, my girls, and my husband all living their lives. I couldn’t wait to see the inside of my home—which I hadn’t truly seen in months. I pulled myself up by my bootstraps and forged on—because that’s what prison had taught me to do—looking forward to the first airdate.

About two weeks before the first episode was set to air, I got in trouble with the prison for calling home and having the production company record my voice while I was talking to my family. They gave me a shot because they said I’d had “unauthorized contact with the public.”

I had no idea I was doing anything wrong. I just called home and the production company filmed Joe, the girls, and my parents talking on the phone with me. Joe did the show because we needed the money. He was doing everything he could to save our house from foreclosure.

Now I was nervous. I didn’t know what they were going to do to punish me. I found out a few days later that they were taking away my phone privileges for thirty days. I cried when they told me that because Joe, the girls, and my parents were my lifeline in there.

The good thing, though, was that they had just allowed us to Skype for the first time ever. I could talk to my family for twenty-five minutes straight. So even though I couldn’t call them regularly, I could still communicate with them here and there—and see them while I was talking to them. Thank you, God.

On the morning of the special, I raced to the TV room to put the show on the list so we could watch it. But other women had beat me to it and put it on the list to make sure that we got to watch it, which was really nice. I loved that they did that for me and that they wanted to see it!

I was nervous all day long. I was praying that I would get through it. One of my friends got to one of the TV rooms early to save a bunch of us seats. It was crazy, though, because they were still showing the movie
Taken 3,
which ran past 8 p.m., when the special started. We all ran to another room to see the beginning of the special, then raced back upstairs to the rec room to see the rest.

The minute I saw Joe and the girls, I lost it. Oh my God—I missed them so much. Nikki held my hand and one of the other girls came over and hugged me. They were cheering when they heard me call the family from Danbury and were crying when they saw the girls, Joe, and my parents break down in tears. All the ladies watching kept saying that Gia and Milania looked just like me and that Gabriella looked like Joe. Others were saying Gia looked just like Joe. And they kept saying that Audriana was still a baby, which, if you know me by now, made me cry.

What I loved about watching the show with the girls was that everyone in the room—not just my friends—was crying, laughing, hooting and hollering, which was so fun for me (and so different from watching the show in my family room at home with Joe and the girls!). During commercial breaks they would ask me questions about who was who on the show—and of course I filled them in.

I ran into a lot of looney tunes in Danbury, but the wonderful people I got to know so well—and the little family we created—meant everything to me. We held each other up and helped each other to the finish line, where our freedom was the ultimate reward. I will never forget how much those girls were there for me. We were there with each other every single day and spent more time with each other than with our own family members.

I saw how much they cared that night, when they watched the show with me and hugged and kissed me and told me they were there for me because they knew how hard this was for me. I can’t put into words the love I felt that evening.

When I saw my dad on TV, I started crying again. He had never visited me in prison because it was too painful for him to see me in there. It literally broke his heart that I’d had to go away. His health wasn’t the greatest, so we worried about him visiting and seeing me in there. While I talked to him all the time on the phone, it was good to finally see him and know that he was OK and that he looked healthy (and so cute in his jeans . . .). I started crying, though, when he had to step away from the kitchen when Gia broke down while she was talking to me. That tore my heart to pieces because I don’t ever like to see any of them upset over me, especially my dad.

One of the reasons my dad still cannot believe I went to prison is because he always wanted Joey and me to walk the straight edge of the knife. My dad still doesn’t understand why I had to go to prison. Neither do I. But one of the things I learned in prison was not to dwell in the past. I now understand the importance of living in the moment and looking ahead to the future. As my journey took me closer and closer to home and away from that hellhole, I couldn’t look back, only ahead.

O
ne of the things that I was so grateful for when the special aired was that they showed the memorial Joe made for his father on the side of the house, near where his dad died. They filmed Joe planting a tree there in his father’s honor and toasting him, saying, “To the greatest father, grandfather, and greatest everything. I love him. Cheers, Dad!” It made me feel like I was there, with my family, holding that grief with them. I wanted to help celebrate his life, too, and with the special, I felt like I could in some way.

I gasped out loud when I saw Gia come down the stairs on the show for her eighth-grade prom. She looked absolutely breathtaking. I got emotional when I saw Joe holding back tears then, too, seeing Gia with her hair and makeup done so beautifully, looking so grown-up. I’ll admit that I did laugh when I saw him show her date, Dante, who is a good friend of hers, how to dance with her by holding hands at arm’s length. It reminded me of my father! I laughed even harder when Milania yelled out to them when they were leaving to keep their hands to themselves. Oh, my Milania. She is so funny and always has me laughing. I love her to pieces.

She would also email me when Joe punished her for doing something naughty and ask me, “Why did you have to marry Daddy? He is so mean!” I always replied, “If I didn’t marry Daddy, you wouldn’t be here.” “Oh no,” she would say. “I would still be here.” I laugh every time I get that email from her.

I was proud of the girls while watching the special. They showed the world that they were doing just fine and were adjusting very well to their mommy being away. They are strong, like me and Joe, but I wish they never had to go through any of this. Out of all of us, me going to prison was hardest on the girls, not me and Joe. The girls are the ones who got punished the most, not us.

Joe tried to keep everything as normal as possible for them, which is why they were able to do so well with it all. I wanted to do the same, which is why I told Joe that prison was like being in a low-budget spa. After the special aired, people were pissed because they thought I was living this cushy, locked-up life. Let me tell you, prison was nothing like a low-budget spa. It was hell. But again, I didn’t want him to worry about me while he was home taking care of our four daughters. I didn’t want to tell him anything negative about that place because I wanted to put his mind at ease. I also didn’t want him to inadvertently let the girls know how horrible it really was in there. I was fine. I could handle it. I wanted to take the brunt of it all so they wouldn’t have to, because I love them so much.

I tried to savor every second of the show. I couldn’t get enough of seeing Audriana, who is so precious and adorable, or Gabriella, who is the sweetest. She is so poised. Such a little lady. They all are. I was also so proud of Gia, who is so put together. It blows my mind how well-spoken, grounded, and mature she is. Thank you, God, for such beautiful, wonderful, loving daughters. I know this sounds crazy, but I loved seeing my three youngest girls’ sweet little bare feet and their cute little toes when they were sitting on the couch. It’s a mommy thing . . .