“Bastards.” I threw the pint in the trash. I pretended not to see the one on the top shelf. I knew Tom, Larry and I would make up later. I never stayed mad at them for long.
I didn’t feel well when I got to work. I thought it was the tirade I went on that morning, but when the dizziness lasted into the lunch hour, I had to take a rest. I sneaked into one of the exam rooms and shut the door.
A few minutes later, Miss Odessa popped her head in the door. “You all right, baby? You been looking a little peaked this morning.”
“Just feeling a little dizzy, Miss Odessa.”
She hobbled over to me. Her bad knee must have been acting up. “You gettin’ enough rest?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Too much. All I did was sleep.
“You gettin’ enough to eat?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Too much. All I did was eat.
“You ain’t pregnant, is you?”
“No, ma’am.” Why did she have to go there?
“You sure? You never know these things.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m sure. I just had my cycle.”
“That don’t mean nothing. I ’member my cousin Greta had her cycle throughout all four of her pregnancies. We better check a test.”
“I’m sure, Miss Odessa. I already checked one.” Why she make me lie?
“Let me check your pressure.”
“I’ve been under a little stress lately. I’m sure that’s what it is.”
“You done put on a little weight, and you know that can shoot your pressure up. You sure that pregnancy test was negative? Your hips done spread and your chest is bigger.”
Miss Odessa was too sweet to cuss out, but she was taking me there. Maybe if I let her check my blood pressure, she would leave me alone.
She took the stethoscope out of her ears. “See, I told you. It’s 160/100.”
“It’s just my nerves. Let me sit here for a few minutes and you can check it again.”
The paper on the exam table rustled as I lay back. I did some deep breathing exercises and let her check it again. Even after I relaxed, my blood pressure was still 150/98—definitely high. I remembered it was elevated when I had my STD tests.
“Let me check your sugar.”
Dr. Stewart walked in just as Miss Odessa pricked my finger. “What’s wrong?”
“Monica wasn’t feeling well. Her pressure is high, and I bet she got sugar, too. You know she been emptying the water cooler and living in the bathroom lately.” Miss Odessa dabbed a drop of my blood on the glucose stick.
I frowned. Was that true? Come to think of it, I had been thirsty lately. I thought it was because it was getting hot outside.
The glucometer beeped.
“See, I told you. It’s 182. Her sugar is high.”
Dr. Stewart asked, “Did you eat breakfast this morning?”
I shook my head. I was too mad at the scale.
Dr. Stewart looked down at the reading, then looked up at me. “That’s high for a fasting blood sugar. I know diabetes runs in your family. I’ve noticed you’ve put on a few pounds.”
Did everybody notice my butt spreading but me?
My head was spinning. I didn’t know if it was from my blood pressure or all the news. I really had gotten the Calvin curse.
Dr. Stewart insisted on doing a physical and labs on me. I could barely think. With my genes, I knew I’d end up with hypertension and diabetes. I just thought I’d be much older.
“Monica, you’re going to have to make some serious lifestyle changes to avoid going on medication.” Dr. Stewart said. “I’m going to send you to a dietician to put together a nutrition program for you, and you’re going to need to start an exercise program. You’ll have to get a glucometer and start monitoring your sugars. We’ll see if we need to start you on some Glucophage.”
Glucophage? My mother was on that diabetic medicine. No way in the world.
“I think if you’re aggressive, you can stave this off for some years. But you have to get serious. You were losing weight there for a minute. What happened?” Dr. Stewart asked.
I opened my mouth to answer, but what could I tell her? My husband is gay and I caught him cheating on me? My pastor only cares about how this will affect his church and offering plate? My best friend is in the bush in Africa and I can’t get in touch with her? My mom thinks I should stay with Kevin and have a messed up marriage like hers? Kevin broke my heart begging me not to divorce him?
I started crying instead.
“I know this is a lot at once. Why don’t you go home and get some rest and we’ll set you up with the dietician tomorrow.” Dr. Stewart patted my shoulder then left the room so I could get dressed.
I nodded and got my stuff to go.
I could barely see the road as I drove home. How did I let this happen? I saw Tom & Larry’s smiling faces in my head.
Bastards.
20
When I got home, first thing I did was call Alaysia. When her voice mail came on, I started crying and left a garbled message.
I went through the kitchen, crying and throwing away all the bad food. I couldn’t blame God for this one. This was my fault. The trash can was full, but I felt no remorse. The poor, starving children in Africa didn’t need high blood pressure or diabetes.
As I finished, the phone rang. I ignored it as usual. The answering machine clicked on, “Monnie, it’s me, calling you back—”
I grabbed the phone. “Laysia, I’m here.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t want to hear ‘I told you so’.”
“Never.”
I sat down at the breakfast table and told her about my doctor visit.
“Monnie, Monnie, Monnie. Okay, now it’s serious. I’m not asking you this time. You’re coming to Atlanta and we’re going to get your health back together.”
“I can’t drop everything and pick up and move.”
“Why not? Look, if you want to end up like your mom, your grandma, and your aunts, go right ahead. Naw. I ain’t having it. I’ll be there to get you tomorrow.”
“Laysia.”
“That wasn’t a question. Check your email for my flight information tonight.” Click.
I dialed her again. “Can we talk about this?”
“I’m listening.”
“I can’t just leave. I have a house here. I have a job. I have bills. I have a husband I need to divorce. I can’t just fly into a fairytale life like yours.”
“Fairytale life?”
“I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just saying, I don’t have a rich father I can lean on.”
“I’m not living off my father anymore. I have my own business now. I support myself. I told you I need some help putting the financial part of my business together. I’m not asking you to live off me. I’m offering you a real job in a legitimate business while you focus on getting your life and your health together.” Alaysia sucked her teeth. “Fairytale life. You ’bout to make me mad, Monnie.”
“Sorry. You know I didn’t mean it like that. My brain isn’t working too good right now. It’s the sugar and the pressure.”
“A’ight. I’ma forgive you because of the pressure and the sugar, but don’t come at me like that no more.”
“Sorry, Laysia.” I was crying again. “I didn’t mean it.”
“You gonna have to stop all that durn crying, too. It’s starting to work my nerves.”
I giggled and sniffled. I got up to get a napkin to blow my nose.
“I’m still coming up there. We can go over a diet plan and I’ll put together an exercise regimen. You can let Dr. Stewart know you’re leaving, hire somebody new and train them. Put your house on the market. Get your divorce. Do what you gotta do. I’m giving you three months.”
“Why do I have to move?”
“Why not? What do you have there?”
“I—I . . .”
“I’m listening. What do you have in D.C. that’s so great you can’t leave? You’ve been in tha
t area all your life. You’ve never done anything different or new. If you can give me one reason why you shouldn’t move, I’ll leave you alone.”
I couldn’t.
“Fine, three months it is. I’ll be up there next weekend to go over your new health plan. I need to meet with my tenant anyway. I’m thinking about selling our old condo for some cash to build my business more.”
“You’re serious about this business thing, huh?”
“I know you think I’m a joke, but I really have found something I’m passionate about. I know I said I’d never work, but it’s not work if it’s something you love. I’ll be there next Friday morning. Can you get off?”
“Might as well. I’ll be giving my notice soon, right?”
“Now you’re talking.”
“I’ll have the guest room ready.”
“Nah, I’ll get reservations at the Capital Hilton. We can do the spa thing again.”
“All right. Let me know what time to pick you up from the airport.”
After we hung up, I went into the living room and plopped down on the couch.
The phone rang again. “What now, Alaysia?” The line was staticky for a minute. “Hello, is anyone there?”
“Monica?”
I squealed. “Trina, oh my goodness, I can’t believe it’s you.”
“Monnie, I miss you so much. I can’t talk long, but I just had to hear your voice. Are you okay? What’s going on there?”
“Girl, forget me. You’re in Africa. Tell me all about it.”
“I don’t even know where to start.” Trina talked a mile a minute about everything she had experienced since she left. I could picture her face glowing and her hands moving animatedly. I wanted to tell her to stop and breathe.
I could almost picture the village where she was living—the poverty, the begging children, the scarce living conditions. She also painted a picture of a strong, intertwined community of beautiful African people. She sounded excited about the school they were building and the numbers of people who had not only gotten saved, but were learning about the Bible and prayer. I was almost jealous. It made moving to Atlanta and starting all over sound even better.
“Enough about me. I could talk all day. What’s going on with you? I pray for you every day. Are you, you know, doing okay?”
What could I tell her? She sounded happy and I didn’t want to spoil it by telling her about my encounters with Kevin, the divorce, my health problems. I decided to keep things positive and told her about Jamaica, hooking up with Alaysia again, and my focusing on exercise and taking care of myself. I tried to make it sound like I wasn’t alone, depressed, diabetic and hypertensive. I wasn’t confident in my ability to fool Trina. She knew me too well. My only hope was to distract her.
“I think I’m moving to Atlanta.” The line crackled for a second. “Trina?”
“I’m here. Gee. That’s big news. Are you sure?”
Once again I tried to paint a great picture, telling her about Alaysia’s business and how the change would do me good and I’d be in a place to focus on myself more.
“That all sounds good. I guess I’m being selfish. I can’t imagine you not being there when I get back.”
“Who knows, girl. I might be back by then. I just need to get away for now.”
“Just make sure you pray about it, Monica. Make sure you hear from God, and if it’s Him, then go for it. I’m behind you one hundred percent. Just make sure you’re being led by Him rather than your circumstances.”
She didn’t have to say that twice. We said our goodbyes and made plans for our next phone call.
I stretched out on the couch and stared up at the ceiling.
God, I have no idea what to do with my life right now, and I really don’t trust myself to hear from You. If this is Your will, cause everything to work together perfectly. Open every door and make a way. If this isn’t Your will, slam every door in my face and don’t let anything work out. Please order my steps according to Your perfect will for my life. In Jesus’ name.
21
When I picked Alaysia up at the airport, she hugged me real hard and long. When she stepped back to take a look at me, I could tell she had to force herself not to say anything about how much weight I gained. We chit-chatted all the way to the hotel. We checked into our suite, and on the way up in the elevator, she said “I hope you brought some exercise clothes with you. They have a nice gym here.”
Working out was the last thing on my mind. “Oh, I forgot. I guess I could exercise in my scrubs.” I didn’t tell her I couldn’t fit any of my stretch pants.
“We can check out what they have in the gift shop. I’m gonna go meet with my tenant to get it out of the way so we can have the rest of the weekend to ourselves. Wanna go take a look at our old spot?”
“Nah, you can take the car. I think I’m gonna relax.” I didn’t want to take any trips down memory lane. I met and fell in love with Kevin while living in that condo. He first impressed me by cooking gourmet meals in that kitchen, and we had many an all-night movie session when Alaysia was on one of her many trips out of the country. I even slept in his arms in my bedroom several times. I remember thinking him such a gentleman for not trying anything.
That was the last place I needed to go right now.
After Alaysia left, I curled up in a ball on the bed and tried to take a nap, but ended up tossing and turning for an hour. I couldn’t shut my mind down. Was I really going to pick up and move to Atlanta? I had never lived anywhere but the Baltimore /D.C. area. I didn’t see my parents a lot, but I had never been so far away from them. It was nice knowing I could get to them when I wanted to. Was I really just gonna up and quit my job and have no reliable income? What if Alaysia’s business didn’t work? She could always call her dad, but what would I do? Would I be able to get the divorce finalized in three months? What if Kevin refused to do things easy and I had to go to court and fight a big legal battle?
My head throbbed. I wandered over to the mini-bar to find some water. It was filled with tiny bottles of alcohol. I hadn’t really drunk since college, but something about the cuteness of the miniature bottles fascinated me. Don’t even think about it, Monica.
I grabbed a bottle of water and lay back on the bed. Scary thoughts about my future haunted me. Would I ever get married again? Would I ever have a baby? Or would I spend the rest of my life alone? Husbandless and childless.
God, am I going to have to sleep alone for the rest of my life?
I couldn’t seem to shut down my mind. I walked back over to the mini-bar. I knew better, but I needed a momentary escape.
I screwed the top off a bottle of vodka and took a swig. My throat caught on fire and it tasted horrible. Nothing like the sweetness of Boone’s Farm Strawberry Hill. I held my nose and finished it off. I made a mental note that I didn’t like vodka.
Next, I tried some champagne. It tasted a lot better and went down a lot smoother. I pulled some snacks out of the mini-bar. Bad idea to drink on an empty stomach.
After emptying a lot more little bottles, my head went from throbbing to buzzing. I needed to get a nap before Alaysia got back. I went to the bathroom to wash my face and heard a click. Alaysia was trying to use the electronic key in the door.
I ran across the room and swept the empty bottles into the trashcan in one fell swoop. I ran back to the bathroom and rinsed my mouth out with some toothpaste. All the running made me dizzy.
Alaysia finally got the door open. She barged in, talking, face flushed and eyes glowing. “Hey, sorry it took so long. He wanted to buy the place, so we discussed some terms. I’m so excited. It’ll give me a big chunk of change to invest in my business. I want to take it to a whole new level. Wait ’til you—” She frowned and tilted her head. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing.” I tried to look normal.
“Why do you have that idiotic grin on your face?”
“You know, uh, I’m excited about your business and the condo and all th
at, uh, good stuff.” I deliberately enunciated my words to avoid slurring. Alaysia had always told me it was a good thing I was a good Christian ’cause I was a bad drunk.
She walked up on me and sniffed. “What have you been doing?” She walked over and picked up the trash can. “Monica Harris, have you lost your mind? Tell me the cleaning people did this.”
“Nope.”
She stood with her hands on her hips. “What’s wrong?”
I shrugged. “Nothing’s wrong, just trying to get away from my thoughts.”
“What thoughts?” She sat down on her bed and took off her shoes.
“If I talk about them, I won’t be getting away from them.”
“You’re not getting away from them anyway. They’re still there and will be there in the morning when you sober up, only louder. You know that’s not the answer. Tell me about the thoughts.”
“One thought leads to another and they take on a life of their own, and then my brain starts to swirl in circles, trying to keep up with the thoughts. They keep swirling in my head.” I was getting dizzy describing them.
“I’m putting on some coffee.”
“I don’t need any coffee. I want to go to sleep.”
I lay back on my bed while Alaysia disappeared into the little kitchenette. I heard her clinking around for a while, then smelled coffee brewing. Smelled like she made it extra strong. My stomach didn’t appreciate it and started swirling.
She brought me a steaming mug. “Here.” The way she said it made me know not to object. I sat there and sipped the coffee like an obedient child.
She sat down on the bed across from me. “Tell me about the thoughts.”
I frowned. “Who do you think came up with the word ‘divorce’? It’s such a mean little word. Do you think it sounds so bad because of what it means, or is there something inherent in the way the letters are put together that make it a bad-sounding word?”
“Oh, boy. Here we go on a perilous trip through the mind of Monica. A trip made all the more dangerous by the ingestion of noxious chemicals.”
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