I scowled at my friends as I said, “You brought First Lady.”
“She made us bring her,” replied Lynette apologetically.
“Well, I’m standing right here,” said First Lady Jenkins, “and I can hear you talking about me.”
“I’m sorry, First Lady. I didn’t want anyone to see me like this, that’s all. I thought Lynette knew that.”
First Lady responded, “I’m here to pray for you. Your pride need not be an issue.”
“We’re all here to pray for you,” Ebony added.
Sufficiently rebuked, I bowed my head as First Lady came and laid her hands on me while Ebony lifted her voice in prayer. Her touch was healing, as were the words of her prayer. Even Lynette was in agreement and whispering “Hallelujah” and “Thank you, Jesus.”
When they were finished I said, “Thank you.”
First Lady nodded and replied, “You’re welcome.”
Lynette started packing up my things, which didn’t amount to much. I had a little bag of clothing and some books along with my Bible. I was waiting for an official discharge, but I didn’t want to stay in that gray room a moment more than I had to.
“Dayna and I cleaned up your house,” said Lynette casually, as if she weren’t dropping another bomb on me.
“Dayna helped you?”
“Yes. She was so upset that you wouldn’t see her when she came to visit. She wanted to do something. I couldn’t stop her.”
So Dayna knew about my breakdown, and Lynette had probably told her about Travis, too. She and Mama were no doubt having a field day wagging their tongues about my misfortunes.
Lynette attempted to explain her motives. “She’s your sister. She cares about you. I didn’t think it was right to keep her in the dark.”
I didn’t want to have the conversation in front of First Lady Jenkins, so I just nodded and sat on the edge of the bed. I would tell Lynette off later, but I kept civilized in front of First Lady.
First Lady asked, “So where is your husband? Why isn’t he here with you? He’s the cause of all of this, right?”
Obviously, she’d heard about the demise of my career. I answered, “Travis is gone.”
She didn’t ask for any more details, so I didn’t volunteer any. Besides, I hadn’t told anyone about Travis’s affair with Les. It was bad enough that everyone knew about Grace Savings and Loan; they didn’t need to add all of my shame to the gossip circuit. Ebony sat down on the bed next to me and put her arm around me. Her silent showings of support were as effective as her prayers.
First Lady pulled a business card out of her purse and handed it to me. She said, “Evangelist King is a Christian therapist. She has helped quite a few people get back on track. Me included.”
I couldn’t imagine First Lady Jenkins ever needing to see a therapist. She was so together, and such an example of perfection. I just couldn’t see her falling apart and doing anything as extreme as I had.
I placed the card in my wallet, not sure if I’d use it. I actually felt better after my two days of solitude. I’d spent time reading my Bible and letting the words minister to my broken spirit. I thought that if I could just get through the following days, I’d be okay—without anybody’s medications or anybody’s counseling.
Finally I was discharged and ready to go home. First Lady Jenkins had driven her own car, and Ebony had ridden with her. We said our good-byes in the parking lot. Lynette didn’t look too thrilled about getting in the car alone with me. She knew me well.
As soon as we were on our way I said, “Lynette, first of all, thank you for everything you’ve done over these past couple of days.”
“You didn’t even have to thank me. That is what best friends are for.”
I took a deep breath and continued. “But I didn’t ask you to include my sister—or First Lady Jenkins, for that matter. I would’ve appreciated it if you’d asked me first how I felt about other people knowing. It wasn’t like I went to the hospital with pneumonia.”
“Now, wait a minute. As far as Dayna was concerned, I didn’t tell her anything she didn’t already know. The hospital contacted her, and your mama, too. I brought First Lady Jenkins because you needed someone to pray for you, and that’s not my forte.” Lynette’s voice sounded hurt when she responded.
Immediately I was apologetic. Who was I to ream Lynette out when she was trying to help me in my time of need? She wasn’t trying to put my business out in the streets; she just wanted me to get better.
“I’m sorry, Lynette. I guess it’s just my pride talking.”
“It’s all right.”
When we pulled up to my home, any remaining anger at Lynette completely disappeared. If anyone had put my business out in the street, it was me. Anybody who drove past the house would’ve realized that some type of disaster had happened. There were boards up on all the windows, and it looked abandoned. Realizing that I was the cause of the destruction was too much to bear. I broke down and sobbed. Lynette didn’t say anything, but she cried, too.
Eventually I was able to stop crying long enough to go into my house. The boards didn’t allow any sun to come in, so it was dark and dreary. Lynette went around turning on all the lights while I stood in the middle of my living room in awe.
She said, “I was going to order you some new windows, but they weren’t going to be able to install them before you got home.”
“It’s okay. I needed to see this.”
The message light on my answering machine was blinking. I was surprised that I’d had any phone calls while I was away. I pressed the button to hear the first message and cringed when I heard Travis’s voice.
His message said, “Charmayne, we need to talk. I want to explain everything.”
I felt my entire body shiver as I hastily erased the message. The next two messages were from him as well, all asking that I reconsider my decision. He even declared his undying love in the last message.
Lynette asked, “Are you sure things are over between the two of you? Maybe you could work it out.”
I looked at Lynette and shook my head. She only knew part of the story, so of course she would think that there was something salvageable to my marriage. But I knew the truth, and so did Travis, which is why I found it hard to believe that he would have the audacity to pick up the phone and call me.
After I assured Lynette that I was not going to fall apart again, she left me alone to contemplate my next steps. The first thing I did was locate a window retailer that would come and replace all of my windows the next day. Next, I called Evangelist King and made an appointment to see her. After seeing my home, it was obvious to me that I needed help. I hoped Dr. King was as good as First Lady thought she was.
CHAPTER Twenty-nine
Past
Dayna and Mama sat slack-jawed as I recounted an edited version of what had happened with me and Travis. I would’ve preferred not to tell them anything, but I couldn’t let them just think I was crazy. Besides, I felt some sense of gratitude to my sister for helping Lynette clean my home. She didn’t have to do that for me. I hoped it meant that this crisis I was having would supersede any animosity still between us.
In response to my story Dayna said, “I knew that brother was too good to be true.”
Before I could respond Mama added her two cents. “That’s what happens when you hook up with them pretty men. They ain’t no good. Next time, stay in your own league and you might stay married.”
I could feel salty tears stinging my eyes, but I refused to let them fall in their presence. I didn’t know why I’d expected them to be sympathetic to my situation. By their responses, it was obvious that they’d formed their opinion even before hearing anything I had to say.
I answered Mama. “You are right, Mama. I will stay in my own league in the future. I could’ve done much better than Travis. I played myself short.”
Dayna let out a giggle that she only barely tried to stifle by covering her mouth with her hand. I wanted to slap her and g
ive myself something to laugh about. Instead, I took the high road and said, “Thanks for helping clean up my place.”
“Well, what else was I supposed to do? You wouldn’t let me in your hospital room. I was hoping that Travis would be home, and maybe he could give me some answers.”
I felt my irritation escalate into full-fledged anger. She’d only helped Lynette to assuage her curiosity. It had nothing to do with caring about me or about being a good sister. I didn’t know why I’d expected her to be any different than I knew her character to be.
“About that,” said Mama, “why you want to go around tearing up all the stuff you paid for with your own money? If that man did you wrong and you wanted to get back at him why didn’t you tear up some of his stuff?”
“Mama, please . . .” I was tired of trying to explain myself to her.
“I mean, seriously, Charmayne. That doesn’t make any sense,” Dayna chimed in.
I bit my lower lip in an attempt to maintain my composure and stood up. I wasn’t going to take any more of their abuse. I walked out of Mama’s apartment without even saying good-bye.
When I got to the car, I glanced up at Mama’s window and saw the two of them glaring out at me. I twisted my own face into a scowl and swung open my car door. After I drove off, I immediately felt a sense of relief. I turned my palms over on the steering wheel and noticed little red indentations from where I’d had my fists balled up.
I took a deep breath and started to cry. It wasn’t fair that I couldn’t go to my own mama for sympathy and support. She was supposed to tell me that everything was going to be all right. And wasn’t my sister supposed to have my back at all times? I violently wiped away the tears. I was angry at myself for caring about what Mama and Dayna thought, and angry that I’d allowed them to get to me. I planned to do much better in the future, even if that meant not telling them anything about my life.
It was with much trepidation that I entered Dr. King’s office. Truthfully, I didn’t want to be there, but I’d spent my first weekend home crying and praying. In my desperation I’d even contemplated calling Travis, just to hear him out. Although I didn’t want to admit needing a therapist, I truly did.
There was no receptionist—nor any receptionist’s desk, for that matter. It looked like I’d walked into someone’s apartment. I was checking the outside of the door to make sure I had the right office when Dr. King emerged from a room in the rear.
“You must be Charmayne. Welcome to my sanctuary. Have a seat.”
I looked around the office and tried to figure out where I, the patient, was supposed to sit. It wasn’t obvious from the office’s setup. I chose a deep purple chaise that looked comfortable. Dr. King smiled. I wondered if she was able to tell something about me from my seat selection.
“Would you like something cool to drink? I have water and herbal iced tea.”
“Yes. Iced tea would be fine.” I was glad she asked, my throat was parched.
Dr. King talked while she poured two large glasses. “So how is First Lady Jenkins? I haven’t seen her in a while.”
“She’s doing well.”
“That is good to hear. I’ll have to give my friend a call.”
She handed me the tea and then sat down across from me on a love seat. My eyes widened when she kicked off her cloth slippers and put her feet up. I had never met a therapist like her before.
Dr. King asked, “So where would you like to start?”
“I don’t know.”
“Something brought you here.”
I replied, “A two-day hospital stay brought me here.”
“Well, let’s talk about that.”
“I broke out all the windows in my house, and they took me to the hospital.”
Dr. King sat up. “What were you thinking about when you broke the windows?”
“I don’t know. I don’t remember doing it,” I replied honestly.
Dr. King took a long sip from her tea. She looked as if she was in deep thought. I didn’t think I’d given her enough information to form any conclusions, but she was thinking nonetheless.
“We’ll work our way up to that, then. For now, why don’t you just tell me a little bit about yourself.”
“I’m thirty-six years old, currently unemployed and single. My dad died when I was eighteen, so now it’s just me, my mom, and my younger sister, Dayna.”
Dr. King cracked a little smile. “Charmayne, you just told me about some situations. I want to know about you. What do you like to do? What are your hobbies? What makes you stand up and take notice?”
It took me a moment to respond. It had been a long time since anyone had genuinely wanted to know about me.
“I like to roller-skate in the park and cook. I’m a really good cook. I enjoy being active at my church and reading historical fiction. An educated black man makes me stand up and take notice.”
Dr. King grinned, and the entire room seemed to brighten. “All right. Now we’re getting somewhere. I enjoy singing, although my voice is only fit to be heard in my shower, and I do needlepoint projects in my spare time. I love reading, and a wonderful fragrance will make me stand up and take notice.”
“A wonderful fragrance?”
“Yes. Like a pie baking in the oven or a field of lavender. I am guided by my sense of smell. I’m one of those people who associate events with smells. I’ve been doing that since I was a child.”
I felt totally at ease with Dr. King. By the end of that first session, it was as if I’d known her for years. I decided to save my story of Travis for later and talked about Mama, Dayna, and my relationship with Lynette. Dr. King didn’t judge or scold, she just listened like an old friend would’ve listened. When I was done talking, Dr. King held both my hands and prayed with me. I felt connected to her in the Spirit. Her soothing words gave me reason to hope for the first time since Travis had walked out of my life.
Still feeling encouraged by my first meeting with Dr. King, I walked into the health club determined to join. It was time for me to do something serious about my weight, without having a man as my motivation. To me, getting control of my eating addiction was one of the first steps in regaining control of my world.
I took one look around the spacious gymnasium and was daunted before I even got started. There were a large number of hard-bodied men and women—some of them appeared to be chiseled out of stone. My cellulite rolls seemed out of place in the same room with such physical perfection.
Just as I was about to leave and do my Tae-Bo tape at home, a bubbly young woman approached me. “Hi! I’m Sheila. May I help you with anything today?”
I took the plunge, and there was no turning back. “Uh, y-yes. I guess so.”
“Are you interested in trying out some of the equipment?”
I nodded. She seemed pleased at my response. Maybe I was her first customer of the day.
The young woman described herself as a Personal Fitness Consultant. She said that it was her job to help me construct a plan that would allow me to reach all my fitness goals. She would work with a nutritionist to create a meal plan for me that would maximize my weight loss, and develop a workout regimen that I could truly stick with.
Sheila made everything sound good, but I was a bit concerned about working out. I’d never done anything athletic in my life. In school the closest I came to sports was playing table tennis in gym class—and that was mandatory.
I said, “I’ve never really exercised before so I’m totally out of shape. I don’t want to hurt myself.”
Sheila looked perplexed for a moment, as if I’d made her lose her thought. Then as if struck with an epic revelation, she replied, “I’ve got something perfect for you. Follow me to the aquatic center.”
I burst into laughter. I guessed I hadn’t stressed to Sheila how completely nonathletic I was. I didn’t know how to swim, although classes had been offered at my high school. I had simply refused to put on a swimsuit.
I followed her into the aquatic center an
yway and immediately was impressed with the size of the pool. The senior aquatic aerobics class had just ended. I saw men and women in their sixties and seventies emerge from the pool, completely unashamed at what time and age had done to their bodies. They looked as if they were having fun, and Sheila assured me that they had just endured a rigorous workout.
She said, “Some of the members of the senior class can swim up to ten laps in the pool.”
“But I can’t swim.”
Again, I had seemed to perplex Sheila. She quickly rebounded. “In the water aerobics class, there’s no actual swimming. That might help jump-start your fitness routine.”
Just as I was about to raise another objection, a woman emerged from the dressing rooms and walked toward the pool. She was a big girl—even bigger than I was—yet she confidently strode across the pool deck as if she weighed 110. I would’ve definitely been wrapped in a towel and cover-up, but she wore only her modest one-piece bathing suit. I watched in awe as she perched at the edge of the pool, dove in, and swam a full length of the pool in under sixty seconds.
Inspired by the sheer bravery of the woman, I interrupted Sheila’s spiel. “Do you all offer swimming classes?”
“Yes. On Mondays and Wednesdays at five thirty in the evening.”
I grinned as the big girl completed her fourth length of the pool. “Sign me up.”
CHAPTER Thirty
Present
I sat in Dr. King’s office feeling as if I’d had yet another setback. After vividly remembering my breakdown, the feelings of anger that I’d had for Travis were greatly intensified. I wanted to hunt him down myself and exact my own personal brand of justice.
I vehemently expressed my frustration to Dr. King. She listened patiently while I ranted on and on about Travis deserving prison time. When I was done, I sat back on the couch and waited for Dr. King to agree with me.
Farther Than I Meant to Go, Longer Than I Meant to Stay Page 21