Page 71 of Gulfside Girls
Let Ted chew on the fact that not only had he lost Ali, but he’d also lost out on millions of dollars because he wanted to seem cool in front of his graduate assistant.
What a jerk.
Twenty-Eight
Belinda
1984
It started with a phone call in the middle of the night. Joetta was almost impossible to understand. She cried, she slurred, and she yelled into the phone.
Belinda tried to calm her sister. How could she help if she didn’t understand a word Joetta was saying.
Car crash. Arrested.
Bail.
Only later would Belinda know the true severity of what happened. During the midnight phone call, Belinda got this.
All three of Joetta’s little girls had been in the car when Joetta crashed it. Belinda nearly threw up at the shock of the news. Baby Blair wasn’t even one yet!
“Are they okay? Are the girls okay? Are they hurt?”
It was the only question and the worst question.
“I think they’re okay. They won’t let me out. They won’t let me see.”
Her sister clearly needed a lawyer. And bail money. Belinda didn’t have a clue how to do any of that.
“Honey, I must tell Mom and Dad. I have no clue how to get you that money or a lawyer.”
Cornwell Bennett knew lawyers, dozens of them. Belinda didn’t mince words with her parents. She told them it was life or death. That Joetta was in jail and that she needed help. Belinda didn’t flinch or equivocate. She demanded her parents take action to help. For the first time in her life, she stood up and told them how it was going to be.
And it worked. Her father did as she asked despite not having seen his daughter for almost a decade. When it was laid in front of him that he had to help, he helped. Belinda’s heart will always remember that moment with her father.
And her mother. Well, their mother held her nose throughout. She watched and grimaced as her husband made phone calls.
From what Belinda gathered, even with their money and connections, Joetta would have to spend three nights in lock-up.
It was a weekend. They were doing everything they could from across the country, but it wasn’t going to get Joetta out until Monday.
Over those same three days, Belinda booked a flight. She would be there for Joetta when she was arraigned. By 7 a.m. Monday morning, Cornwell Bennett’s Tampa attorney had roused a Toledo, Ohio, attorney he knew. They conveniently had docks next to each other at the Tampa Yacht and Country Club.
The attorney was there, and so was Belinda, as Joetta faced a municipal court judge. Belinda had never been in a courthouse. It was scary, foreign, and overwhelming. Her poor sister had to be so afraid!
When the deputies brought Joetta out into the courtroom, Belinda gasped.
Her sister looked to be under one hundred pounds, and her skin was the color of paste. She had a gash on her forehead.
Belinda thought her sister should have had stitches, but instead, there was just a mess of gauze and medical tape.
Her pretty little sister looked like a waif. Or a ghost.
Joetta’s lip quivered when she locked eyes with Belinda. She saw her eyes scan the room and lock to the back of the gallery.
Belinda turned to follow Joetta’s gaze. There he was. Bruce Kelly’s arms were crossed over his chest. His lips were in a thin line. There was no relief on his face at the sight of his wife, only disdain.
The judge spoke, and Joetta nodded. The attorney whispered to her what to say and where to sign. And then it was over. Joetta was released on bond and given a court date. As soon as Joetta was allowed, she flew into Belinda’s arms. The sisters hugged, and the attorney explained the next steps. There was no waiting embrace from her husband. Bruce Kelly hung back, away, disconnected from the crisis that embroiled the family. Joetta tried to go to him. She reached out and put a hand on his.
