directly for the woman. She spotted Sara and walked over.
But half the time, the woman wasn’t receptive. But she was fully aware she could take Regina for what she wanted and not have to be very nice in return to the rich girl from Pasadena.
That was okay with Hartwell. She was often drawn to people who didn’t care for her. They were a challenge, and Regina liked a challenge, thought many of her friends.
Believing Anita and Sara were a couple, Regina slashed Morales with a dirty look. Oh, my God, thought Anita, this little girl is intimidating . Both close to five feet tall, Anita and Regina stared eye to eye.
Regina shocked Anita, though, when she immediately began to buddy up to her. “Want to go with me in my limousine on New Year’s Eve?” she said. She intended to buddy up to Morales to get to Sara. Still, it started a lifelong friendship. From that New Year’s on, with the exception of one—Regina’s last—Anita went with Regina in her limo every New Year’s Eve.
“Don’t forget, I’m buying you your first drink,” Hartwell said to Ynema Mangum. She meant Ynema’s first legal, alcoholic drink. “Don’t forget. . . .” Regina said it over and over again as though she were obsessed with the idea.
On June 28, 1990, Mangum’s twenty-first birthday, Regina took her barhopping. Hartwell disappeared for a few moments, and Ynema thought she was alone. She sidled up to the bar, ordered her drink, and, zoom, Regina was there beside her, slicked up next to her like a magnet picking up stray steel dust. “I’m gonna buy this,” said Regina.
But Regina didn’t buy Ynema just one drink. All at once, she ordered Ynema several drinks—mind erasers and amaretto sours.
Like a typical alcoholic, Regina Hartwell lied at every opportunity she got. Regina, the girl from down-home, hard-working Pasadena would hold out an apple and say it was an orange. At least that’s what Ynema Mangum saw. Hartwell would tell Ynema all the virtues of the alleged orange. By the time she finished, Ynema would believe the apple was an orange.
Regina Hartwell was smart, and she was a smooth talker. More than once, she told her trust officer she needed money to go to college, and he gave her the money. Then she dropped out of school and used the tuition refund to party.
Hartwell just wasn’t trustworthy. Ynema Mangum thought that was the reason Regina didn’t trust many people herself.
But unanswered issues in her life, many unanswered issues, caused Regina Hartwell to appear self-confident when she was really still searching . . . soul-searching.
Ynema Mangum began to realize that.
Ynema noticed that Regina often didn’t look her in the eyes when she spoke—lying. Or, Regina looked Ynema in the eyes, but Regina’s eyes clouded over as if they were trying to hide something—lying. Ynema caught Regina in her lies and challenged those lies.
Hartwell stopped telling stories to Mangum, but she also stopped confessing to her.
None of that, though, was enough to stop Ynema from loving young Regina Hartwell. There was something inside of Regina that was sensitive and vulnerable, that made Ynema feel she needed to take care of Regina.
There were times when Regina got into trouble and someone wanted to beat her up; Ynema stepped in and protected Regina. Ynema Mangum, with a bit of a young Kate Jackson look, was Regina’s Angel, and she knew Regina was afraid of being hurt physically.
Most of Hartwell’s friends wouldn’t believe that—they hadn’t seen that side of her. Ynema had, and she loved Regina for that vulnerability. She knew the fear and vulnerability came from the loss of Regina’s mother at such a needful age and from being abused at such an early age. But most of Regina’s friends didn’t know about that either. They didn’t notice the scars on her pale arms.
They did notice how often she professed to hate her father. Her friends believed that Mark Hartwell didn’t spend much time
But half the time, the woman wasn’t receptive. But she was fully aware she could take Regina for what she wanted and not have to be very nice in return to the rich girl from Pasadena.
That was okay with Hartwell. She was often drawn to people who didn’t care for her. They were a challenge, and Regina liked a challenge, thought many of her friends.
Believing Anita and Sara were a couple, Regina slashed Morales with a dirty look. Oh, my God, thought Anita, this little girl is intimidating . Both close to five feet tall, Anita and Regina stared eye to eye.
Regina shocked Anita, though, when she immediately began to buddy up to her. “Want to go with me in my limousine on New Year’s Eve?” she said. She intended to buddy up to Morales to get to Sara. Still, it started a lifelong friendship. From that New Year’s on, with the exception of one—Regina’s last—Anita went with Regina in her limo every New Year’s Eve.
“Don’t forget, I’m buying you your first drink,” Hartwell said to Ynema Mangum. She meant Ynema’s first legal, alcoholic drink. “Don’t forget. . . .” Regina said it over and over again as though she were obsessed with the idea.
On June 28, 1990, Mangum’s twenty-first birthday, Regina took her barhopping. Hartwell disappeared for a few moments, and Ynema thought she was alone. She sidled up to the bar, ordered her drink, and, zoom, Regina was there beside her, slicked up next to her like a magnet picking up stray steel dust. “I’m gonna buy this,” said Regina.
But Regina didn’t buy Ynema just one drink. All at once, she ordered Ynema several drinks—mind erasers and amaretto sours.
Like a typical alcoholic, Regina Hartwell lied at every opportunity she got. Regina, the girl from down-home, hard-working Pasadena would hold out an apple and say it was an orange. At least that’s what Ynema Mangum saw. Hartwell would tell Ynema all the virtues of the alleged orange. By the time she finished, Ynema would believe the apple was an orange.
Regina Hartwell was smart, and she was a smooth talker. More than once, she told her trust officer she needed money to go to college, and he gave her the money. Then she dropped out of school and used the tuition refund to party.
Hartwell just wasn’t trustworthy. Ynema Mangum thought that was the reason Regina didn’t trust many people herself.
But unanswered issues in her life, many unanswered issues, caused Regina Hartwell to appear self-confident when she was really still searching . . . soul-searching.
Ynema Mangum began to realize that.
Ynema noticed that Regina often didn’t look her in the eyes when she spoke—lying. Or, Regina looked Ynema in the eyes, but Regina’s eyes clouded over as if they were trying to hide something—lying. Ynema caught Regina in her lies and challenged those lies.
Hartwell stopped telling stories to Mangum, but she also stopped confessing to her.
None of that, though, was enough to stop Ynema from loving young Regina Hartwell. There was something inside of Regina that was sensitive and vulnerable, that made Ynema feel she needed to take care of Regina.
There were times when Regina got into trouble and someone wanted to beat her up; Ynema stepped in and protected Regina. Ynema Mangum, with a bit of a young Kate Jackson look, was Regina’s Angel, and she knew Regina was afraid of being hurt physically.
Most of Hartwell’s friends wouldn’t believe that—they hadn’t seen that side of her. Ynema had, and she loved Regina for that vulnerability. She knew the fear and vulnerability came from the loss of Regina’s mother at such a needful age and from being abused at such an early age. But most of Regina’s friends didn’t know about that either. They didn’t notice the scars on her pale arms.
They did notice how often she professed to hate her father. Her friends believed that Mark Hartwell didn’t spend much time
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