by Patti Doss
There was a knock on my bedroom door and a voice that said, “Are you okay?”
Since it was Persia, I got up, unlocked the door and sat back down on the bed. It was an awkward silence for a while before Persia broke the ice and said, “Why didn’t you tell me that it was Rachel that Mike was cheating with?”
Tears started to fall down my face again as I said, “I didn’t want to believe it. I just didn’t want to believe it. After everything we’ve been through, how could they do that to me?”
Persia sat down beside me and hugged me. All she could say was, “It’s going to be okay. You are going to get through this.” At that moment, it seemed like the tears started coming faster and harder. I cried like I was at a funeral. I tried everything that I knew how to stop crying. I was not a crier, but it’s like my body had a mind of its own. Years of silent tears were finally making their appearance, and there was nothing that I could do to stop them.
Chapter 11
RACHEL
“I can’t believe that bitch hit me!”
I was in Sharon’s car. We were on our way home from Tammie’s house. Sharon was driving while I sat on the passenger’s side with an ice pack on my face.
“What you mean you can’t believe she hit you?” Sharon scoffed in disbelief. “What did you expect her to do when you are sleeping with her husband? Jump in the bed with you guys?”
“Don’t be smart, Sharon,” I sneered.
Sharon replied, “No, how could you be so dumb?! Of all the guys in Georgia, why you had to go and do that to Tamm, your best friend?! How could you?”
When I rolled my eyes and replied, “Don’t fucking question me,” Sharon couldn’t believe it.
“Excuse me?! What did you just say?!”
“You heard me!” I shot back.
Sharon pulled in at Texaco and parked near a gas pump. She turned off the engine and turned to me. Fury flashed in her eyes. “For years, we have all heard about how you used to do your other girlfriends, but despite all that gossip and rumors, we stuck by you. You were like a sister to us. Tamm helped you out any way she could. Hell, we all did. You wouldn’t even be in Georgia if it wasn’t for Tamm, and this is how you repay her?! You got a lot to learn about friendship.”
Tears were forming in my eyes as I screamed at Sharon, “Fuck you, Sharon. Shut the fuck up! Just shut up!”
Sharon replied, “Fuck me?! No, that’s what you were doing to our best friend’s husband. I tell you what; get the fuck out of my car. Get home the best way you can. Call a taxi. Better yet call Mike. See if he will give you a ride since you’ve been riding him. Everything that you are getting or going to get you deserve, because all you do is use people up and expect things to go your way, but it does not work like that! If you would do this do Tamm, I have no doubt that you would do it to me, if given the chance, so to save you another ass whooping, humiliation or more drama, just please, please stay the hell away from me!”
“Well, FUCK YOU!” I snarled, grabbing my things and getting out of her car. As soon as I got out, Sharon pulled off. “Great. Now how am I supposed to get home?” I grumbled to myself.
Just as I was about to go into the store, Mike pulled up at the gas pump. I guess he had to get some gas or something. I turned around and walked to his car. I knew I probably was the last person he wanted to talk to right now, but I needed a ride home, and I needed to talk to him.
Mike saw me coming and got out of his car fuming. “What the fuck do you want, Rachel?”
I pleaded with him, “Please, Mike. I really need to talk to you. Sharon put me out of her car. I don’t have a ride home. I don’t have anything or anyone right now.”
Mike spat in my direction. “That’s not my problem!”
With tears rolling down my face, I screamed, “No, it’s not your problem, but I’m not the only guilty one here. You are just as guilty as me. You could have stopped after the first time, but we have been having sex for three months, so don’t try to play innocent with me. You knew what was happening, but you didn’t care as long as you got what you wanted.”
Mike replied, “Shut the fuck up! Shut up Rachel! You think I don’t know what I did? Yea, I know I fucked up. But, hell, you were offering it. I damn sure wasn’t going to turn it down. Plus it was free! Hell, I didn’t even have to pay for it.” He looked at me with contempt. “At least hoes get paid. Your self-esteem is so fucking low that you just give yours away!”
More tears fell as I ran into Mike and slapped him in the face. His nostrils flared. He grabbed both of my hands and shook me. Leaning in, he growled low so that only I would hear his threat. “Don’t you ever put your hands on me again, or I will knock your ass out… and I mean that!”
The cold, black look in his eyes told me that he was serious. “Mike, let me go!” I screamed. He released me, and I just stood there, crying harder than I’ve ever cried in my whole life. In one night, I lost my best friends and the man that I was falling in love with.
The store clerk came out and asked if everything was okay. I wiped my face as Mike quickly said, “Yes, everything is fine.”
I told Mike, “I need a ride home. Sharon put me out. My purse is in her car. Can you please take me home? Please? I won’t ever talk to you again, but please just take me home. Don’t leave me out here begging strangers for a ride home.”
Again Mike was cold and distant. “That’s not my problem!”
I sobbed, “Mike, please?!”
I was causing a scene at this point. The store clerk was still outside. He asked, “Ma’am, are you okay? Is this man bothering you?”
I looked at Mike. The expression on his face relaxed a little bit. I took that to mean that he was going to give me a ride home.
I told the clerk, “No, I’m okay. He is a friend of mine.”
The clerk looked unsure, but nodded his head okay and went back inside. I stood beside the passenger car door, but I didn’t get in. Mike inserted his debit card to pay for the gas and started pumping his gas. After he was done, he got into his car as if he did not see me standing there. He even started his car. I thought he was going to leave me at the gas station, but he rolled down the passenger side window and told me, “Get in.”
I did. As much as I wanted to hate Mike, I still loved him. Yes, I know it is crazy to be in love with my best friend’s husband, well ex-best friend, but I was.
Mike did not say a word to me. I wanted to say something, but I did not know what to say. So when we got half-way to my house, I leaned over and tried to kiss Mike. He turned his head, and the kiss landed on his cheek.
He shouted, “What are you doing, Rachel?! I told you we are over! Can’t you see things are already messed up?! Just leave me alone. Don’t touch me, talk to me, or nothing. Better yet, don’t even look at me. Look out the window!”
We rode in silence the rest of the way.
* * *
Mike dropped me off at home and told me that Tammie had a box with my name on it that was along with his stuff. He was gracious enough to carry the box to the door for me and then he left.
He left without a goodbye, see you later or anything. Along with the box, I saw my purse leaning against my front door. Sharon must have dropped it off on her way home.
Standing at my door, once again, I realized I had no one. Then I realized this has been the story of my life….LONELINESS! Thoughts of that horrible night from my childhood struggled to come to mind, but I refused to think of that day. I forced back the memories. I hated remembering what he did to me. I pushed those memories back where they were hidden and went inside of the house. I put the box on the kitchen table and went to the fridge to get some ice for my face. My kids were still over Sharon’s sister house, so I called Sharon, even though I didn’t want to.
She answered with so much attitude that I wanted to hang up in her face. “Yes?”
I huffed as I asked, “Do you want me to come get the kids?”
“No. It’s okay for them to stay over,” she repli
ed neutrally. “I’ll take them to school in the morning.” Then she hung up briskly after that.
Although she was mad at me, I could tell that she still was Tee-Tee to my kids. For that, I was briefly grateful as I went upstairs to change clothes. As soon as I hit the top step, I got really dizzy and my head starting hurting like crazy. I sat down on the step, holding my head for what seemed like forever, until I wasn’t dizzy anymore. Finally, I got up to go to the master bathroom to get an aspirin or something out of the medicine cabin, but before I could, I got nauseated.
I couldn’t reach the toilet in time before vomit was going everywhere. After dragging my head to the toilet and vomiting two or three more times, I was finally able to get off my knees, praying to the porcelain god.
If it gets worse, I’ll go to the ER, I thought as I swallowed two Tylenol tablets and took off my clothes to wash up. I showered with lavender body wash, changed into fresh clothes and went downstairs. With all the commotion, I realized I hadn’t eaten. My head was still hurting a little bit, but not as much as it was before.
I warmed up some boneless baked chicken breasts, mashed potatoes, green beans, and rolls that I had cooked the day before. I managed to eat a little before the dizzy spells returned.
This was not good. It seemed as if I may have a mild concussion. After Tamm hit me, I even had a red spot in my eye. I had to go to the ER, but there was no one that I could call to take me. Driving was not an option. I was so afraid of having a dizzy spell or blacking out while driving, so I called a cab to take me to the hospital.
After about fifteen minutes, I heard the taxi blow outside. Even as I made my way out of the house, I felt the dizziness.
The driver was a middle-aged, dark-skinned, semi-handsome man, who was built like a football player. He probably was sexy as hell when he was younger. It was visible that the years had taken their toll on him, though. Yet, he was still decent looking for his age.
I started to get in the back, but he stopped me. “You can sit up front with me.” Then he leaned over and opened the passenger side door for me. As I climbed in, he told me, “My name is Gary.”
“I’m Rachel. Can you take me to the nearest emergency room, please?”
He nodded and asked as he pulled off, “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
“I fell. I think I may have a mild concussion.” I spoke cautiously. I didn’t want to have to go into details of this crazy night.
I thought he would get the picture that I didn’t want to talk, but he clearly misunderstood me. By the time we reached the hospital, I knew his entire family history, about his college career, and what he loved about Georgia.
“Thank you, Gary,” I said as I reached into my purse.
“I can wait for you if you want.”
“I don’t know how long I will be. It’s okay.”
“Well, here. Take my number. Call me when you’re done. I’ll come back and get you.”
He was really a sweet, southern gentleman. I wondered if he would have treated me the way that Mike did if he was twenty years younger. I took his number, paid my fair, and cautiously exited the cab. I went into the ER tired with a head that was still throbbing. I was thankful that the ER was really quiet. There were not many people. Hopefully, that meant that I would be seen quickly.
After waiting for about fifteen minutes, I was called into the back. The nurse took my vitals and asked me what was wrong with me. I told her that I got into a fight and had been vomiting with dizzy spells. She told me I may have a mild concussion and that the doctor may want to do an x-ray just to be sure that it was nothing serious.
After waiting another ten minutes, the doctor came in the room and introduced herself. She was a short, middle-aged Arabian woman with long black, shiny hair. She did a short exam of my face and asked me a lot of questions.
“I’m a little concerned about that spot in your eye. I want to do an x-ray to check that out. The nurse will be in to get a urine sample to make sure that you aren’t pregnant before we do the x-ray.”
The nurse came in after the doctor left with the urine cup for the sample. I went into the bathroom to give a urine sample without a second thought.
Ten minutes after the nurse left with the sample, the doctor came back in the room smiling. “Congratulations! You’re pregnant!”
I was speechless. Seeing my reaction, the doctor paused. “Did I say something wrong? Are you okay?”
I waved her off, smiled weakly and replied, “No, you’re fine. I’m okay.”
The doctor replied, “Oh okay. Even though you are pregnant, I still want to do an x-ray. We will take the necessary precautions to protect the baby.”
I completed the CAT scan, and the doctor told me that everything looked good. There was no damage, and everything would heal in a couple of days. She gave me a prescription for mild pain medication and something for the nausea. I called Gary, the cab driver, and told him that I was finished at the ER and needed a ride back home.
He arrived in about fifteen minutes, asking if everything was okay.
After answering, “Yes,” with a fake smile, we rode in silence all the way to my house. I couldn’t believe my luck. I was pregnant by somebody else’s husband. My best friend’s husband at that. I was so happy to pay my fare and get out of that cab. As soon as I stepped inside my home, I cried like I never cried before. As I sobbed, I saw the box that Tammie sent me. Seeing that box reminded me of everything that I wanted to forget.
I wanted to cry again, but my stomach was crying louder. I was starving. I fixed a turkey and ham sandwich, got some grapes and a glass of orange juice, hoping that it wouldn’t upset my stomach.
That box; it kept staring at me, reminding me of my convictions.
“Argh!” Angrily, I pushed the box on the floor. The contents of the box scattered and shattered glass was everywhere. I was unbothered by it. I was that pissed. I finished eating before I started to clean up the broken glass. As I was sweeping up the broken glass, I saw an envelope turned down. When I turned the envelope upward, it was addressed to me.
Tammie had written me a letter. Part of me wanted to throw it in the trash, but another part of me wanted to open and read it. Instead, I finished cleaning up the mess. The broken glass was from photos of Tamm and me. It seemed like she had given me back every picture we had ever taken together, as well as any gift, article of clothing or book that I had given her over the years.
Reluctantly, I read the letter. By the time I reached the end of the letter, I was crying all over again … and harder. I was dead to her. I know longer existed to her. I didn’t think about what my actions would do to my kids or hers. All I was concerned about was myself, and the children were caught up in this mess because of me.
Not only that, how do I tell them that I’m pregnant, and the baby may be Mike’s? Things were complicated enough. Having this baby was only going to bring more heartache and headache to everyone involved. The tears continued to flow harder and harder at the thought of the hard decision I had to make. As much as I opposed it, I knew it was the best thing to do.
I had created enough heartache to the people that I loved. I couldn’t bear to create anymore. I knew what I had to do whether I wanted to or not.
Chapter 12
TAMMIE
I can’t believe I was finally able to get some sleep. When I woke up, Persia was gone and had left a note that she would see to the kids getting off to school and that she would keep them that day after school for me.
I called into work and told my assistant to cancel my appointments for the day. I was taking a personal day. I wanted to just lie in bed all day. I kept thinking about Mike and Rachel, so I got up and got dressed to go walking and running at the track.
I arrived at the track about six-fifteen. There were not many people there, but while I was doing my warm-up exercises, I saw Jamal. He saw me also and waved his hand but kept on jogging. I finished my warm-up exercises and began walking.
Before long, Jamal caug
ht up with me and struck up a conversation. I really was not in the mood for talking, but I still felt a connection to him and I did not even know why.
When we finished up our walk, Jamal asked me to breakfast. With everything that was going on in my life, I figured I had nothing to lose, so I decided to go.
I followed Jamal to IHOP off of East West Connector. While waiting for our orders, Jamal began telling me about himself. By the time our food arrived, I knew about his childhood, short term marriage/divorce, and his goals for his job. I felt guilty not talking to Jamal about my life while he was sharing so much about his. I just was not ready to talk about what happened and was happening in my life.
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to act anti-social. I just have a lot going on right now. As I told you the first time we met, I am married. I’m not sure if I’m going to stay that way, though. I’m not ready to talk about that yet, so that’s why I haven’t been saying much.”
Jamal replied, “I know you have a lot on your mind, I can tell but it’s no pressure. Trust me, I understand completely. But if you ever want to talk, I’m a great listener.”
We ate our food in silence. Occasionally, I would catch Jamal staring at me like he wanted to say something, but he never did. After we finished eating, Jamal paid for the food, and we walked out to our cars.
I told Jamal, “Thanks for breakfast.”
“The pleasure was all mine, but if you let me, I would like to take you out for a date. No pressure. Just take my card. When you’re ready, just give me a call.”
I took the card, not sure of what to do or say next.
Sensing my awkwardness, Jamal said, “Thanks again for a wonderful breakfast and being my listening ear. Hope to see you again.”
I was blushing. “You’re welcome. Thanks for being so understanding.”
As we walked our separate ways, right then and there, I decided to stop waddling in my sorrow over Mike and Rachel.
* * *
I went home and cleaned my house from top to bottom. I even managed to do the laundry - all of it. Then I started to prepare dinner, even though it was only a little after lunch. I decided to do a salad, spaghetti, which was my kids’ absolute favorite dish, cheese garlic bread, and catfish which was my favorite.