Bea let Awilda help her up from the floor. Bea was already naked so it wasn’t hard to get her into the shower. At first Bea just stood there and let the hot water crash over her.
“Use some soap,” Awilda commanded.
Bea did what she was told. Awilda handed her a clean towel.
“These are like hotel towels. Where’d you get them?”
“Nordstrom’s in Short Hills. Lonnie only likes white Turkish cotton towels, like he gets at a hotel.”
“Next time grab me two. I’ll pay for them.”
Bea nodded.
“Come, let me wash your hair.” Awilda made Bea get onto her knees and lean over the bathtub while she washed and conditioned her hair. The lavender smell from the shampoo relaxed Bea. With a towel wrapped around her head, Awilda led her to the rocking chair and she combed her hair piece by piece. When it was combed out, she gave Bea two French braids.
“Good as new.”
When Bea looked out the window, the sun had checked out for the night. “What time is it?”
“TV time. Come.” Awilda crawled onto Bea’s bed and flicked on the television.
“Here, have a cookie.”
They stayed in Bea’s bed, eating the whole package of cookies until Bea drifted off to sleep.
The next morning when Bea woke up, she heard the shower running. She couldn’t remember Lonnie coming home. Then Awilda came out wrapped in one of her plush towels, hair piled on top of her head.
“I need these towels. Don’t forget, Bea.”
“I gotcha.”
“I need to borrow something to wear.”
“My clothes are down the hall in the playroom closet.”
Awilda left and returned with two sets of yoga pants and long shirts, one for each of them.
“Get dressed, we’re going out.”
Bea did as she was told.
“Where are we going?” Standing in her driveway, the fresh air felt good on her skin. It was a cool day with just the right amount of sunshine.
“For a drive.”
Awilda drove a two-door Nissan Altima. It was always a treat to be in her car, without granola bars, tangerine peelings, and french fries crusted into the seats.
“Here, put some lip gloss on.” Awilda handed her a tube. She snaked the car through three neighborhoods before she reached an office building. It was one that Bea had been to before. It was Dr. Spellman’s office.
“Why are we here?”
“You had an appointment, remember?”
“No. I thought we were going someplace fun.”
“We are, after you check in with Dr. Spellman. It’s going to be quick. I promise.”
Bea got out of the car. She did not want to see Dr. Spellman. She wanted to go someplace fun but they were here, and knowing Awilda the way she did, they were staying until she saw the doctor.
“Fine.” Bea stomped over to the office and signed in.
They waited only five minutes before a medical assistant called her back.
Dr. Spellman walked in with that award-winning smile that put Bea at ease, then it made her tear up.
“What’s wrong with my favorite patient?”
“I don’t know. I’m just sad.”
“Do you miss the baby?”
“I don’t know what it is. It feels like I used to be full and now I’m empty.”
“How’s your diet?”
“I haven’t been eating.” She could tell from the flash in Dr. Spellman’s eyes that she knew that she was lying.
“I went on a binge and now I’m worried about the baby.” She put her hands up to her head.
Dr. Spellman put her hand on her shoulder. “Don’t cry, Bea, just tell me what happened.”
Bea recounted the first binge at McDonald’s and how she’d tried to get it under control but the dark horse just kept breathing down her neck every day, urging her to do it.
“How often?”
“At least once a day for the past few weeks. Since July.”
“I haven’t checked the baby’s paperwork but I will.”
“Don’t say anything, please.”
“Beatrice. I want to help you feel better. Tell me how else you feel.”
“I’m just tired. I feel trapped and I think … about bad things.”
She typed on her laptop. “Like what?”
Bea whispered. “Like I want to cut myself open and jump out of my skin.”
“Go on.”
“I hate myself. I’m worthless. Everyone just uses me and would be better off if I was gone. I don’t want to see my children. I just want to be in bed. Even the sound of the crickets makes me miserable. I just wish they would shut up.”
She typed some more and then turned her attention toward Bea. “Beatrice, have you heard of postpartum depression?”
“I studied it in nursing school but that was so long ago now.” She looked away.
“Okay, good, so you know a little. Postpartum is caused by a hormonal shift that occurs after childbirth. When you were pregnant, your estrogen and progesterone levels were very high. When the baby was born they dropped back to normal. This swift change in hormones is what has you feeling out of whack. It’s causing the despair.”
“Well, can you fix me?”
“I think a low level antidepressant will help. You should feel some changes in a week or two and be back to normal in six to eight weeks.”
“How long will I have to take the pills?”
“Let’s meet in two weeks and we’ll see how it’s going. The important thing is for you to start feeling better.”
“Okay.”
“Great, same pharmacy?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll send the prescription right over. In the meantime, find a hobby that you like, take walks, anything to keep your mind occupied until the pills kick in.”
“Thanks, doc.”
* * *
Awilda drove her to the pharmacy so they could pick up the pills. Bea swallowed her first Paxil in the car.
“I hope this works.”
“Give it time, it will. I know a few teachers at work that take Paxil and they seem fine.”
“I hate that I need drugs to feel normal.”
“Get over it. I just want you to feel better.”
“Where are we going?”
“It’s Wednesday, I was thinking we could have lunch at the open-air market.”
Bea smiled. “You always know what to say, Wilde.”
Awilda turned on the radio to music that thumped and steered her car toward what Bea usually felt like was her piece of heaven. Being around fresh flowers, smelling the just-baked bread, touching the organic leafy vegetables, and drinking the tart, fresh-squeezed lemonade always made her feel better.
* * *
Lonnie had called to say that he needed to extend his trip by a day and would be home on Friday. It was the start of the weekend. Irma made homemade pizza and what the kids referred to as back-in-the-day popcorn because she made it on the stovetop and not in the microwave. Bea had been glad the kids were busy with her mother in the kitchen because it took the focus off of her. When they were around all they wanted to do was touch her and that irritated her skin. While they cooked and listened to Celia Cruz, she sat on the back patio and read Outlander by Diana Gabaldon. Dr. Spellman had recommended that Bea do things to take her mind off of how she was feeling and there was nothing Bea loved more than historical fiction. Books were her favorite escape and she was lost between the pages when Lonnie appeared, looking like he just walked out of a fashion magazine, not weathered in the least from his flight. He swept her up into his arms and kissed her like a man would kiss a woman at the end of a romantic movie. She actually smiled.
“You missed me?”
“I did.”
“Let’s go to Basilico for dinner. Your mom has everything covered here.”
She had on the one maxi dress that didn’t make her look pregnant and her mother had forced her into her good bra
and a pair of Spanx to pull the baby fat together two hours before Lonnie was supposed to arrive.
“Okay.”
* * *
Basilico, an upscale Italian restaurant on Main Street, was known for being a trendy BYOB with dependably good food, a New York restaurant atmosphere, and a well-trained waitstaff. Bea had read about the spot in the paper but had never dined there. She was looking forward to having a good meal that she would force herself to keep down. Lonnie pulled a bottle of red wine from the trunk of his car and ushered Bea toward the restaurant.
“Reservation?” asked the blond hostess. Her eyes were black rimmed and her breasts spilled forward. She looked at Lonnie but not Bea.
“Colon, for two.”
“Right this way, Mr. Colon.”
At the table Bea asked, “What, am I invisible?”
Lonnie patted her hand. “What would you like to start off with?”
“Have you been here before?”
“No, sweetie.”
“Maybe we should go to your special restaurant in Chatham.” Bea touched her lips, unable to control the flow of words. “I know all about chili101 so don’t come home trying to play the loving husband.”
The disbelief played around his eyes. She could tell by the way he swallowed his saliva that he was searching for a bucket of water to quench the fire.
“Bea.”
“Don’t Bea me. Open your phone,” she demanded. The waiter interrupted.
“Would you like to hear the specials?”
“Not now.”
Lonnie ordered the carpaccio di manzo and the burrata to start, in a voice that apologized for his wife. “Honey, do you want to try the skirt steak?”
“Sure.”
“I’ll have the salmon.”
The waiter collected the menus. Lonnie passed Bea his phone. She glared at him and then moved her fingers over the screen, searching through his apps for the one that she’d found in D.C. Wine was poured into her glass but she didn’t look up. It felt like the temperature in the restaurant was rising. The red velvet walls seem to close in. Nearby table conversations were too noisy. The app was gone.
“You’re such a liar.” She slammed the phone down onto the table. The water goblet shook but nothing tipped over.
“Baby, calm down. I know you haven’t been feeling like yourself lately. I’m doing my best to support you.”
“Do you really think I’m that stupid?”
“You are the smartest woman that I know.”
Bea picked up the glass and gulped the wine. It was smoky and sweet, one of her favorite combinations. She took another sip.
“I spoke to Clark, he said Mena and the baby were doing fine. We should probably go for a visit.” Lonnie drummed his fingers on the tabletop, a bad habit he had when he was displeased.
The food was beautifully arranged when it arrived. Bea wanted to wolf it down. After confronting Lonnie it would be nearly impossible to keep it down. She glanced to the back of the restaurant.
“Excuse me.” She placed her napkin next to her plate. Lonnie rose to help her with her chair.
Bea found the ladies’ room and it was just as she’d thought. Communal stalls. Not a good situation for a purge, especially with the place being so crowded on a Friday night. She washed her hands and returned to the table.
“Everything okay?”
The wine was smooth as silk as it coated her throat. Bea wondered why she didn’t drink more. The lightness felt heady.
Lonnie sliced a piece of steak off of Bea’s plate. “Are you going to eat?”
She didn’t respond.
“I don’t know why you just can’t be happy. You have everything a woman could possibly ask for. A beautiful home in the best suburb.”
“Your choice. Not mine.”
“You have…”
“Everything but you.”
Lonnie gripped his napkin. “I’m here for Christ’s sake.”
Bea finished the glass of wine. “Not all of you.”
“This is ridiculous.”
“From that first time at your office … to that bitch in Miami … Ms. Instagram … and now the new one that you’ve erased from your phone like I’m some stupid little schoolgirl.”
The waiter appeared and refreshed their wine. Bea watched him walk away.
“Why did you marry me in the first place if I wasn’t enough? You begged me.”
“Because I love you. Stop this, will you?”
Bea couldn’t control the emotions that welled up in her face.
“I’ll get the food to go.”
“I just had your cousin’s baby.”
“Your choice. Not mine.”
“So this new chick is my punishment?”
“There is no new anything.”
“I would respect you more if you had the decency to be honest.” Bea snatched the keys off the table and walked out of the restaurant. When she got into the car, she wanted so badly to leave him. Make a big scene like she had often seen on television. But the two glasses of wine that she’d guzzled down had her feeing too loopy to drive.
Lonnie climbed into the driver’s seat and placed the to-go bag behind him. He said nothing to her as he pulled away from the curb. She looked out the window at the high-end specialty shops, and then at the mature array of trees, and the colonial, Tudor, and craftsman homes that were tucked safely away from the street. Everything about this life was buttoned-up and sterile. Except for the emotional roller coaster that Bea constantly rode. This was not how Bea had pictured her life. She was unhappy more than happy, an in-home spy inflicting self-harm, and now on prescription medication. She was disgraceful. That’s why he cheated. He probably felt sorry for her. The last thing Bea wanted was pity. She grabbed the to-go bag out of the backseat and headed toward the garage.
“Don’t follow me,” she hissed.
“I won’t.”
And he didn’t.
NINTEEN
Fright
Awilda had handmade Chico’s and Alana’s Halloween costumes every year since the children were born. They were always more creative than anything you could get at the store, lasting way past Halloween and then worn for dress-up until too small. Bea still had a few in the attic, saving them for God knows who because her tribe was finished. Perhaps she just hung onto them sentimentally since Awilda had made them. This year Alana wanted to be a spy from the movie Spy Kids and Chico a teen wolf. Bea wasn’t clear if it was Teen Wolf the television show, or Teen Wolf the movie with Michael J. Fox, but she was sure Awilda would figure it out and nail them both.
Lonnie usually took the children trick-or-treating while Bea stayed at the house and gave away the candy. Before they went to bed, they were allowed three pieces of their choosing. Having the sweets in the house was dangerous and Bea would have to throw it away after a week or so because she wouldn’t be able to stop eating it. Bea hadn’t heard from Awilda in over a week so she sat at the kitchen island and called.
“Sis, where have you been?” she said in her mama voice.
“Huh?”
“I haven’t heard from you.”
“You didn’t get my text?”
“That was two days ago.”
“I know. Sorry. We’re giving a new test at school in the spring. It’s going to be the first one the kids take on the computer so everyone has been freakin’ out. I’ve been working late and dealing with these crazy-ass parents.”
“I confronted your boy about the new heffa.”
“What he say?”
“He’s such a liar. He deleted the app, so when he let me look in his phone, the conversation I read was gone.”
“Aw, Bea.”
“Right? I’m not stupid. I’d be able to handle this better if he were honest.”
“So what are you going to do?”
“I’m tired, sis. Right now I’m trying not to think about it. The kids are so busy. The school quarter is ending. What’s up with the Halloween costumes?”
&
nbsp; “Huh?”
“For Chico and Alana. It’s right around the corner.”
“Oh, shit.”
“What does that mean?”
“Bea, I totally forgot.”
“The kids sent you e-mails with what they wanted.”
“I know. Hon, it’s been crazy. I don’t think I’ll be able to do them this year.”
Bea was silent.
“I know, I know. I suck. I’m so sorry. I’ll pay for the costumes if you want.”
Bea would never take Awilda’s money, especially with Derrick out of work. “They’re going to be so disappointed.”
“I’ll make it up to them. I promise. When you get the costumes take a picture of them and perhaps I can add a little flare.”
“Whatever.”
“Seriously. I can’t take it when you pout, Beasely.”
“Well, I’m pouting.”
Awilda sighed. “How have you been feeling otherwise?”
“More like myself.”
“The pills are working?”
“Yeah. I’m thinking I may not need them much longer, I’ve been feeling pretty good.”
“Talk to Dr. Spellman first, Bea. Don’t just do your own self-diagnosis.”
“I know. I will.”
“I need to drop by for dinner one night soon.”
“Sophia’s christening is the Sunday after Halloween. I’m thinking about having a little dinner party for them the following Saturday. Invite my neighbor Joney over as a thank-you for keeping the kids when I was in the hospital. I never did anything for her.”
“That date works for me.”
Bea sucked her teeth. “I’m totally pissed about the costumes, Wilde.”
“I know, Bea.”
“Now I’m going to be at Party City last minute with the rest of the fools this week picking through plastic.”
“My bad, really. I’ll drop by in a day or two and you can make me lunch.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
* * *
Only Alana was upset about Awilda not making the costumes. Chico didn’t seem fazed.
“I’m too old for costumes anyway. I just want a mask and some teeth. Oh, and some fake blood.”
“How are we supposed to find a spy costume?” Alana asked.
“Chico, help her look online.”
The kids hovered over her tablet as Bea made dinner. Lonnie hated meatloaf, said his mother had made it too often for him as a child, but Bea had some ground beef and she was sick of making spaghetti. She’d throw a jar of gravy over it and pair it with some mashed potatoes and fresh string beans. The one vegetable that the whole house agreed on was string beans so dinner would be a partial hit.
And Then There Was Me Page 16