Getting to Happy

by Terry McMillan

  Bernadine wants to say, “What the hell is going on in the universe! Let’s just turn this into the Little Old Lady Who Lived in the Frigging Shoe. Everybody can move right on in: my ex-husband’s child, my son and his fiancée, my unborn grandchild. Am I leaving anybody out?” What she does say is, “Of course it’s doable, JJ, you’re my son, and Bronwyn’s going to be my daughter. So, tell me, how pregnant is she?”

  “Ten weeks. It’s so cool, Mom. She throws up and everything.”

  “That’s just great. Have you told your dad?”

  “Not yet. I thought I’d tell you first.”

  “You won’t believe this, JJ, but I’m on my way to see your dad right now. He’s waiting for me at the stable where they board Herman.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “He got Taylor a new saddle and he wants to talk about a few things, so I agreed to meet him out here. I can’t believe you’re going to be a father. And you’re sure about this?”

  “You should know me by now, Mom. When I say I’m sure, what does that mean?”

  “You’re sure. So, I’m going to be a grandmother.”

  “Get used to the idea,” he says. “Look, Mom, I’m at the lab and have to close up, but we’ll talk in the next day or so, is that okay?”

  “Do you mind if I tell your dad?”

  “By all means. Go right ahead.”

  “Quick question. What are you going to do about finishing school?”

  “That’s an easy one. I’ve already talked to department heads at ASU and U of A. A thesis is a thesis as long as it’s publishable.”

  “Okay, then.”

  “Is everything going good out there with you?”

  “Things couldn’t be better.”

  “I’m glad to hear that, Mom. Have you been thinking about what you want to do now that Sweet Tooth is closed?”

  “I’ve got a few ideas but I’ll hold off talking about them until I do a little more research.”

  “Well, let me know if I can help in any way. Send a shout out to everybody and pop Onika for me. I heard she’s going to be a camp counselor and she’s in love.”

  “So she told you about Shy?”

  “Mom, she’s my sister. We grew up in the same house. I’ve known for years but it was her call. So I guess she finally felt safe.”

  “It was by accident.”

  “I don’t need details. I just want to know if you’re upset.”

  “It’s not upsetting.”

  “So you’re cool with it?”

  “I’m cool with a lot of stuff, JJ.”

  “I know O must be relieved. What about Dad?”

  “He doesn’t know yet.”

  “How is it possible you know and he doesn’t?”

  “Onika hasn’t seen him and it’s not the kind of thing you tell your parent over the phone. I’m sure she’ll tell him when she gets home.”

  “How do you think he’ll take it?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “I think he’s going to freak at first, but he’ll eventually come around. Plus, he doesn’t have a choice. She is who she is. Anyway, you are the absolute coolest mom. Gotta scoot. Love you. Bronwyn sends some, too.”

  Bernadine clicks END. She’s not sure if she’s in shock or elated. She’s going to be a grandmother? Is she old enough to be one? She decides to call John. When he answers, he sounds weird. There’s a lot of noise in the background, like glass clinking or something. “John, are you at a bar?”

  “Kind of.”

  “Are you drinking?”

  “I’ve had a beer and will probably order another.”

  “I’m pulling into the parking lot but I don’t see your car.”

  “I’m at the clubhouse. It’s the green building. I ordered you a sparkling water with lime.”

  She can see it from here. She parks and walks in that direction, passing one beautiful horse after another, some being ridden, some being led. There are youngsters in corrals practicing jumps. Once she gets inside, John is standing at a tall table. He’s aging well, she thinks, as she gets closer. Sometimes it’s hard for her to believe she was once madly in love with this man. That she was once married to this man. That he is the father of her children. It’s also hard to believe they’ve known each other since college. God, how many years ago was that?

  “Well, Herman’s getting a test drive in his new saddle. How are you, Bernie? And thanks for coming.” He gives her a kiss on the cheek. His lips are warm. Bernadine is surprised she can feel it.

  “No problem. I think I may be coming down with something, though. Feeling a little light-headed.”

  “You should’ve told me that. We could’ve talked over the phone.”

  “No, it’s fine. It might not be anything.”

  “I hope not.”

  He takes a sip of his beer.

  Her head is beginning to feel like she’s wearing a headband that’s too tight. She can handle this.

  “So have you given any more thought to Taylor’s request?”

  “I have. I have to admit I’m a little conflicted about it. I mean, you know I love Taylor like she’s my own daughter, but I’m just not real sure about how this will all play out. I’ve also got a lot of things going on right now.”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I just don’t.”

  “She misses having her mom here, Bernie, and I’m dealing with a little prostate issue of my own.”

  “Please don’t tell me you’ve got prostate cancer?”

  “No, but I’ve got an enlarged one. And it’s kind of been freaking me out.”

  “When did you find this out?”

  “A few weeks ago.”

  “Were you having symptoms or did you find out from a routine checkup?”

  “For the past five or six months, I’d been seeing small amounts of blood in my urine and it was becoming somewhat painful to go.”

  “So what does it mean?”

  “It’s not cancer, I assure you. What it means is I may have to have surgery but right now there are some lifestyle changes I need to make first. If that doesn’t mitigate it, then they’ll try medication. Surgery is the last option.”

  “Wow. I’m really sorry, John.” Bernadine takes a sip of her sparkling water.

  He pushes his beer glass toward the center of the table as if there’s a bull’s-eye in the middle. Bernadine wishes she could have a drink, something to take the edge off. A Tylenol might help. She’ll stop on the way home.

  “There is a possibility I might be selling the company. The stress and traveling are taking a toll on me. And Taylor. If you would give this some consideration, I’d be indebted to you, Bernie. I mean, I know—”

  “Slow down, John.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “You’re going to be a grandfather.”

  “Come again? Wait. Don’t tell me Onika’s pregnant?”

  “Not even close.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing. It’s JJ. His girlfriend is two and a half months and they’re getting married in three weeks. Out here. Congratulations.”

  “Wait a second, now. Which girlfriend is this?”

  “Her name is Bronwyn. She’s been on the scene about a year. He e-mailed her picture a few months ago.”

  “You know how many there are in the album I created for him? Does he have a clue about what he’s getting himself into?”

  “He seems to have it all figured out.”

  “Of course he does. He’s got book smarts but my Lord, it doesn’t always translate into common sense. What’s he going to do about his PhD program? And what’re they going to do for money? And where are they going to live for crying out loud?”

  “I’ll let him tell you. But not to worry.”

  “Is he twenty-five yet?”

  “Almost, but for right now, he’s still twenty-four.”

/>   “We were younger than that,” he says. His eyes are glassy and dreamy-looking.

  “Yeah, and look where it got us.”

  “Don’t go turning the cup upside down, Bernie. Come on. We were once madly in love and it lasted longer than we give ourselves credit for. We should cherish that. Don’t you think?”

  “I’ve cherished it a million times, and even prayed to get something like it back, but no such luck. I’m beginning to feel like everybody else is looking forward to something, except me.” Bernadine cannot believe she just said that. She doesn’t mean it. It came out wrong. Now her head feels like cotton candy is inside it, just spinning away. She’s beginning to wonder what symptoms might be next. What she does know is she needs to get her behind home and in a hurry. It’s a thirty-five-minute-drive and she doesn’t need to lose her cool while she’s behind the wheel.

  “Bernie?”

  “Yeah,” she says, almost absentmindedly.

  “What’s going on with you? Why would you say something so ridiculous? You’ve barely touched your water. Why don’t you take a sip? Can I get you anything?”

  “I’m fine, John. You know what I was trying to say.”

  “No, I don’t. You just told me we’re going to have a grandchild, our son is in love and getting married, and even though I’m a skeptic, it’s still worth getting excited about. Isn’t it?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Then I don’t understand.”

  “I’ve been stuck in muck and I feel like I haven’t been able to climb to the surface.”

  “What on earth are you talking about, Bernie?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Is this still about what’s-his-name? If so, you should be over him by now, Bernie. He was an evil person and he’s probably behind bars somewhere. Which is where he belongs. I would’ve thought you’d have locked him inside a compartment in your head and thrown that key away.”

  “Sometimes he opens it and haunts me.”

  “Then go talk to someone about how best to lock him out for good. I’m not kidding. By the way, I haven’t forgotten about the promise I made you. About the property?”

  “I’m not worrying about it, John.”

  “I know that. I want you to know the court has frozen all my assets so I can’t sell or give anything away until it’s done. It could be a while.”

  “Like I said, whatever’s clever. I’m grateful you care.” Bernadine rubs her head. Now it feels like an accordion. She takes a big sip of sparkling water. The bubbles tingle in her throat. They don’t feel so good on the way down. It feels like she could throw up. Not here, she tells herself. She swallows over and over until the sensation goes away.

  “By the way, Taylor told me she drove the car over there.”

  “We promised her we wouldn’t tell.”

  “Don’t ever trust her with a secret. She eventually tells me anyway.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “Taylor also said Onika has a very cool surprise for me when she gets back from Tucson next month. Do you have any idea what it might be?”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “You mean Onika doesn’t have a surprise for you?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  “You love surprises, Bernie.”

  “Not like I used to. Taylor didn’t give you the slightest hint?”

  “Nope. She just said it has something to do with lipstick.” He scrunches his shoulders.

  Bernadine has to give it to Taylor. She is clever.

  “She also said you might be going on a trip.”

  “I didn’t tell Taylor I was going on any trip.”

  “She said you might be going to Tucson for like a month to attend some special cooking course. When’s that start?”

  “It’s ongoing,” she says. “But I might have to postpone it now that I’m going to have houseguests.”

  “Don’t change your plans, Bernie. John Junior knows how to take care of our—I mean your—house. If it would make you feel better, they can stay at mine. What’s this course about?”

  “The catering business.” This is the first thing that pops into her head. It also doesn’t make any sense. But John wouldn’t know this.

  “That’s great. So you’re coming back to where you belong,” he says. “As the song goes.”

  “Maybe I am,” Bernadine says. “I think I need to get home. It feels like I’m going downhill fast.”

  “Will you be all right?”

  “I just need to lie down before whatever this is kicks into gear.” They hug each other for the second time in fifteen years. This one is quick. On the drive home Bernadine has to pull over twice. As soon as she walks inside the house she runs upstairs, slides open the night-stand drawer, takes two Xanax and chases them with a half cup of cold tea. Without taking off her clothes or sandals, Bernadine slides under the covers. She tells herself that Taylor was on to something and that as soon as her head stops spinning, she should probably make that call.

  140/90

  “So, how long do we have?” Joseph wants to know after Gloria had finally spoken with the leasing agent.

  “Sixty days. But they’re willing to extend it at the same rate on a month-to-month basis for a maximum of four months.”

  “How generous of them.”

  “So that gives us until January,” Gloria says, and takes a long sip from her twenty-four-ounce Pepsi.

  “Did you say us?”

  “I believe I did. Everybody has to go, not just Oasis,” she says. “Next year this time this whole block will be condos.”

  “Ask me if I care?”

  “Do you care, Joseph?” Gloria asks, just to mess with him.

  “More than you will ever know. We need to start looking for a space if you want to do this, Glo. And sooner rather than later.”

  “I know. I just don’t want you to worry, Joseph.”

  “Me? I’m not worried. I don’t want you to worry. That’s my main concern.”

  “It seems like such a defeat to just give up all I’ve worked for, but I still need to figure out what I’m doing and how.” Gloria cleans the smudges off her reading glasses with the cuff of her white blouse. The frames are metallic candy-apple red. They look good on her. In fact, she bought the same pair in cobalt blue. Now she can see everything clearly. She has to move the shop to a different location. But where?

  She’s sitting on the grape sofa meant for clients. It’s low to the floor and, she now realizes, uncomfortable. Gloria tries to cross her legs, hoping this will cause her back to tip backward, but her thighs are too thick and feel like the sticky stuff on Post-Its. This is just one more thing she doesn’t feel like thinking about.

  “Well, this is where I come in,” Joseph says. “A rent increase that’s ridiculously out of reach is really an opportunity to make a change. Maybe you should thank the bastards.”

  “Thank you, bastards!” Gloria yells. “I’m going home.” But when she goes to push herself up to a standing position, she can’t do it. Joseph extends his hand. Gloria takes it. She shakes her head in embarrassment as he pulls her to a standing position.

  “And this, too, shall pass,” he says, and gives her a kiss on her forehead.

  After Joseph left, Gloria still didn’t want to go home, because there was no reason to. She’d been lollygagging around the salon, telling herself it was to miss rush-hour traffic.

  She enters the freeway and heads in the opposite direction from home. She’s doing about seventy but is now aware of the glassy whir of headlights passing her by. In a split second she hears and then sees a motorcycle in her rearview mirror fly past her with only inches between it and the car in the next lane, and a Hummer on her left cuts her off. She is tempted to honk but in a sudden panic her heart makes one long hard beat and she decides against it. She grips the steering wheel, then puts on her blinkers and gets off at the next exit and pulls over. Her heart is beating fast and her head drops against the steering wheel. She starts crying unc
ontrollably. Finally, she stops. Reaches in the glove compartment and gets a napkin. Wipes her eyes. But then here come more tears. “When is this going to stop?” she says out loud. Gloria had no idea how much it hurts to lose someone you love. How hard it is to keep going. How it takes all the strength you have to just go through the motions to get from one day to the next. And sometimes, one minute to the next. Sometimes the grief strikes like an earthquake and there is nothing she can do except hold on to something solid and wait for it to pass.

  “What in God’s name am I doing way out here?” she asks herself. She pulls onto the road, looking for a place to turn around. This stretch of road offers nothing but blackness. Finally, after five or six more minutes, she sees signs for an Indian casino. When Gloria spots a gas station, to her own surprise she keeps driving. “Oh, why not?” she asks herself. “Maybe I’ll have some fun. Maybe I’ll hit a jackpot! Maybe I’ll run into Sister Monroe!” Knowing she may have spoken too soon, she says, “I take that back, Lord. Please, don’t let me run into that woman. Please.”

  Gloria is surprised when she starts laughing and for the next fifteen minutes travels farther down this two-lane road until the casino appears out of nowhere. She follows the curved driveway lined with giant ferns and palm trees whose fronds are lit with colored lights. If she didn’t know better, Gloria might think she was in the Caribbean, that she could expect to hear slow waves hitting a sandy shoreline. This is definitely Arizona and it’s also ninety degrees and humid, and this casino is on a real Indian reservation in the middle of the desert, make no mistake about it.

  She pulls right up to valet parking.

  “Good evening, madam. And will you be checking in or just here for gaming?”

  “Both,” she hears herself say. Gloria thinks maybe she’s losing her mind, doing something this impulsive without even considering what she’s going to do in a hotel room all by herself and all of forty minutes from where she lives. She barely knows how to gamble. Slots don’t count and she has never had the heart to play anything higher than the quarter machines. Craps scare her because she has never understood how the game works and there are far too many numbers that mean far too many things.