And Then There Was Me

by Sadeqa Johnson

“Out of all of the women willing to get in bed with you, it had to be Awilda?”

  “She started coming to the gym at the same time as me. We’d eat together. Drink some beers and watch a little baseball.”

  “You two were going out?”

  “She kept flirting with me. One day I was driving her back to her car and she reached into my pants. It had been a while, maybe even weeks since you and I had been together. I just lost control.”

  Bea stood up. “You’re sick. How dare you put this one on me? I was pregnant with your cousin’s baby, you asshole.”

  “I know, Bea. I’m just saying Awilda caught me in a vulnerable situation. Hell, she was vulnerable too, with Derrick’s illness and job situation.”

  “Now I’m supposed to feel sorry for her too?”

  “Listen, Bea, I didn’t mean—”

  “Lonnie, I’m done listening.”

  The nurse knocked and walked back in.

  “Sign here, Mr. Colon, and you’ll be free to go.” She handed him the clipboard. He didn’t bother to read the document, he just scribbled his name at the bottom.

  Bea was in her head on the walk to the car. As soon as Lonnie slid in next to her, she asked, “Where can I take you?”

  “Home.”

  “You don’t seem to be understanding what’s going on here. I don’t want you there.”

  “Bea, think about the kids.”

  “You should have been thinking about the kids when you rammed your dick into the woman they call auntie.”

  Lonnie looked out the window. He was quiet for a long time and then he turned to Bea with moist eyes. They were at a red light.

  “I know I really fucked up this time. If I could take it back, I would.”

  “But you can’t. So where are you going?”

  He sighed. “Just let me come home. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

  Bea wished to God that she didn’t have to deal with this. If she let him come home then she would be uncomfortable, tiptoeing around the house trying not to breathe the same air as him. Lonnie would do his best to slip back into their lives, which made her skin swirl with itchiness. But the kids. She had to consider their feelings and what was best for them. She tightened her grip on the steering wheel as the light changed. She wanted to dump him at a hotel but motherhood trumped all. The children needed to see their father so she drove him to the house they all shared.

  * * *

  As she predicted, the kids were ecstatic to have Lonnie home. Alana played nurse, bringing him juice and crackers. Chico seemed to follow Lonnie foot to foot, room to room. Bea made a quick pasta dinner and did the laundry while the three of them ate together. After she got the kids into bed, she brought down two pillows and a comforter and made up the sofa.

  “Bea.” He said her name softly, in the same tone he used when he was sorry. It tugged at her, sending conflicting chills up her spine. But how could she rightfully entertain anything he had to say?

  “No,” she responded and went upstairs.

  Bea slept a dreamless sleep. When she woke up, Lonnie had his foot draped over hers. She was disoriented for a moment. The clock read seven. It was a school day. She had not set her alarm clock and now she was late. And he was not supposed to be in her bed. She threw the covers back.

  “What are you doing in here?” Her cheeks reddened.

  “I couldn’t sleep on the couch so I came up in the middle of the night. I didn’t mean to touch you.”

  His face was beautifully etched with sleep and she caught him in between a smile and a yawn. For a split second she had caught sight of the Lonnie that she had loved. But then she remembered him and Awilda and it was gone.

  “Bea.”

  “This isn’t going to work.”

  “Bea.” He grabbed her arm.

  “I can’t go back to the way it used to be. Don’t you get that? You crossed the fucking line.” She slapped him hard against his face. “You destroyed our family.”

  Bea moved out of the bedroom and into the hallway. Her emotions were seeping out of her pores and it was giving her a dizzying headache. She had to get it together.

  “Honey, it’s time for school.” She shook Chico awake.

  “Ma. Why were you and Daddy yelling?”

  “We weren’t yelling.”

  Chico rolled toward her. “I heard you.”

  “Get up. We’re running late.”

  Normally Bea coaxed her children out of bed. Rubbing their backs, touching their hair, but today she flicked on the light and then headed down the hall to wake Alana. Bea moved through the house barking orders, packing lunches, laying out bagels for breakfast, not caring whether the kids preferred cream cheese or butter. She argued with Chico for trying to wear that stupid Miami Heat shirt that was too small and hollered at Alana, “Would you just eat the damn apple slices and stop complaining all of the time?”

  “Mommy, you said a bad word.”

  “Eat. So we can go.”

  “Why are you being so mean?” Alana began to sob.

  “I’m not.”

  “You are, Mommy,” said Chico.

  “Grab your things for school and let’s go.”

  The kids followed her out to the driveway. It was chilly but she was burning up from within. They drove in silence with the windows cracked. Once she dropped them off, she regretted her morning attitude. All she needed was for the teachers to ask why they were upset and for them to mutter some version of what was going on in their home. Bea’s foot was heavy on the gas as she made her way back home. Lonnie was in the gray robe she’d bought him two Christmases ago, sipping on a cup of coffee, checking his e-mail.

  “Want a bagel or something?” he said casually, as if she hadn’t shot him in the leg six days ago, as if their lives were normal and fine. Lonnie never wanted to deal with an issue. He preferred to pile the dirt under a carpet. But that pile of dirt now included Awilda. The hump was huge and Bea would not allow herself to trip over it. She wouldn’t step over it and she wasn’t going around it. She wanted it removed.

  “I want you to go. I’ll drive you to a hotel.”

  “I’m getting sick of you asking me to leave my house, Bea.” His brows knitted.

  “It’s you or me. And if I go, you’ll have the responsibility of the kids.”

  “I can’t even drive.”

  “Not my problem.”

  “Why are you being so unreasonable?”

  “I need some space to think, Lonnie, and I can’t do that with you here.” She sighed. “Please, I’m asking you for the sake of the children to go.”

  “I’ve given you a good life. Women wish they had a life as cushy as yours. You don’t work. You buy what you want and I don’t say nothing. You have free time to do whatever the hell you please and all you do is whine.” He snapped his laptop shut.

  “How dare you?”

  “I’m tired of begging. You want me gone? Fine. I’ll leave. See how you make it in this house without me.” He grabbed his crutches, tucked his computer under his arm, and went toward the stairs.

  Bea balled her fists. She wanted to make him hurt and feel her pain. She walked around the kitchen in circles. Then a scream escaped her throat and she hurried out the back door. The keys to her van were on the counter and she didn’t trust herself to go back for them. She remembered the twenty-dollar bill she’d tucked into her front pants pocket that morning and decided to walk to Main Street, grab some breakfast, and get her head right. Walking always helped but her legs shook beneath her. By the time she got to the corner, she had to hunch over to keep from falling.

  How is this her life? Bea sat down on the curb. She needed some relief. Something to make herself feel better. She thought about all of the Saturday afternoons she spent alone with the Happy Meals her father brought in. The food was meant to placate her, to make up for the fact that he was only there to see her mother, to quiet her loneliness. The high-calorie, cheaply priced food had been her pacifier and in that moment she longed for a s
uck.

  Luckily, the closest McDonald’s was farther then she felt like driving. She didn’t need to eat that food anyway. Bea wanted to stop letting the people around her keep her sick. This was her life and she needed to gain control. Bea got up and made her way to the town park. Trees, grass, fresh air: a path to sanity. Bea had only been to this park a few times since they moved to Evergreen. Alana had enjoyed a few playdates in the playground area and Chico liked to go to the other end and shoot hoops. The basketball court only had one working hoop. Lonnie told Bea that the other one had probably been taken down to discourage teens from other neighborhoods from coming in and taking over the park. No doubt it was meant to deter the black and brown kids. Bea huffed. The sandbox was tucked away in the corner near the gate. There was an abandoned plastic beach shovel next to it. The earth called to her and she moved toward it. Then she was standing in it. Without hesitating, Bea picked up the shovel and started digging.

  She tunneled until there was a hole big enough to put her foot in. Then she continued to plow until she could slide her leg in up to her kneecap. Bea dug until she could get both feet in, until she could get both legs in.

  “The old Bea is gone. I bury her in this sandbox.”

  Bea didn’t know where the words or ideas were coming from but she followed them. She stayed there, squishing it between her fingers until a calm came over her. She felt a healing from the sand. A connection. At first Bea pretended not to see the three mothers with strollers, gawking at her with unabashed stares. But then she did something she had never done in this town. She stared back at them with her hands on her hips, doing her best to silently convey: What the hell are you looking at? They got it, because in a matter of seconds, all three women dropped their gaze and returned to their frivolous conversation.

  PART 3

  What happens when people open their hearts? They get better.

  —HARUKI MURAKAMI

  TWENTY-FOUR

  Hotter than July

  When Bea reached home, the house smelled of Lonnie but he was gone. No note on the counter, no abandoned socks on the floor, just his plate and fork in the sink. Bea went into the laundry room and took off her sandy clothes and then walked naked upstairs to her bathroom to shower. When she came out, the phone was ringing.

  “Hello.” She tightened her towel.

  “Today is the day.”

  “Joney?”

  “Put on some comfortable yoga clothes and meet me in the driveway in fifteen minutes.”

  “Huh…”

  “Not taking no for an answer.” She hung up the telephone.

  Bea contemplated ignoring Joney but then did as she was told. This time when she went outside she wore her jacket.

  “Come on, I’ll drive,” motioned Joney. Her hair was pinned in a sloppy bun.

  Bea got into the passenger side of Joney’s Mini Cooper hybrid. “Where are we going?”

  “Yoga. It will help you release the toxins you’re feeling in your body and lift that layer of depression I see around your eyes.”

  Bea nodded and then looked out the window as Joney drove a town over to where the class was being held.

  “Here, put these quarters in the meter for me.” Joney dropped the change into Bea’s palm. The yoga studio was a storefront with four big glass windows. When Bea followed her in, the aroma of the lobby made the tension fade from the back of her neck. It smelled like a mix of lemongrass, rosemary, and sage. Bea slipped out of her shoes and frowned when she realized that her pink toe polish had chipped in three places. She worried if anyone in the class would notice and when she looked up, her pulse quickened.

  “Hi, I’m Dakota. Is this your first class?” His generous lips opened wide to reveal snow-white teeth. His skin was buttered that rich color of ganache.

  “Yes,” she said, instantly calling to mind the song “’Round Midnight” by Thelonious Monk. Bea wasn’t big on jazz but she knew that song because her roommate in college had played it over and over. She’d said it helped her understand better what she was learning when she studied. The tune would always put Bea in a good mood and she smiled before dropping her gaze.

  “Welcome.” His long locks swayed gently. “Do you have a mat?”

  “No.”

  Dakota reached to the rack behind the front desk and handed her one.

  “Thanks.” Bea held her yoga mat tightly to her chest as she crossed into the class and kneeled down beside Joney.

  “Why is it so hot in here?” She fanned herself.

  “Because it’s hot yoga.”

  “Hot what?”

  “I thought I told you.” Joney sat crossed-legged on her mat with her eyes closed, perspiration already dripping down her face.

  “You didn’t.” Joney breathed deeply, ignoring her. Now that Bea knew that it was hot, she felt like she was hyperventilating.

  “How high does it get?”

  “Only about ninety-five degrees or so.”

  Bea’s mouth went dry. Joney must have lost her mind, dragging her to sweat. She had just gotten out of the shower. On all fours, she pushed herself to rise. She intended to leave but then when she turned around the door of the room was closed. Dakota walked past her and to the front of the classroom. He made eye contact with Bea and grinned encouragingly.

  “Let’s start in a seated position on our mats. If this is your first class, take breaks when you need to and drink plenty of water.” Behind his head was a beautifully painted picture of a lotus.

  “My name is Dakota. Namaste.”

  Dakota. Did his mama name him Dakota or was that the hippy thing to do, change your name to something cool? He connected his iPod to the stereo and reggae music played.

  “I know you weren’t expecting to practice yoga to Maxi Priest but there is a strong connection between the two.”

  Dakota led them through what he referred to as a vinyasa. Bea looked at Joney and how her body moved through the air like a swimmer in the water. Bea decided to give it her all. Even though she felt clumsy and out of shape, it felt like she was supposed to be there. Dakota walked the room calling out instructions that Bea did her best to follow. She opened her arms wide, lifted them over her head and then pushed her heart forward. It made her want to cry, like something very painful was oozing out.

  She did her best to emulate what she was seeing, peeking at Joney and watching Dakota move.

  “Now flow through. Downward dog. Forward to plank. Chaturanga. Upward dog, or if you like, baby cobra, back to downward dog. Step the right foot forward, left hand next to your left foot and open your right hand to the sky. Twist your heart forward.”

  The tears ran freely down Bea’s face. She was sweating so hard she didn’t think anyone would notice as the water comingled.

  “Back to downward dog.”

  Dakota placed his hands on either side of Bea’s hips and pulled her hips higher into the air and then pressed down on her back, stretching the rest of her body forward. “That’s the pose. Do you feel that?”

  Her waist felt like it was exhaling from the spot where he touched her.

  “Really concentrate on opening up your hips.”

  They went through a balancing series and then ended up on their backs. Bea was drenched and thirsty and when the class did a shoulder stand, she didn’t even attempt it. All she could picture was her shirt sliding up and exposing the wiggly skin that hung around her belly after the baby. When the rest of the class came out of the pose, Dakota led them to what he called shavasana.

  “Our final relaxation pose.”

  Quickly, Bea realized that of all of the poses this was definitely her favorite. Lie flat. Don’t move. Breathe. Her eyes were closed and her mind drifted when she felt Dakota’s fingers on her forehead massaging the spot between her eyes with oil that smelled like lavender.

  “Slowly roll to your right side and bring your body into the fetal position. You have been reborn.”

  Bea liked the sound of that.

  “Come up slowly
.”

  After a final om, the class was over. Joney rolled off her mat.

  “How was it for you?”

  Bea admitted that the class had been wonderful. “I haven’t felt so alive in my body in years.”

  “I’m proud of you, Bea. Thanks for trusting me.”

  The cool air in the lobby felt good. Dakota was behind the counter.

  “Beatrice. How was it?”

  Hearing her name on his lips made her stomach quake. She hadn’t told him her name.

  “It’s here on the sign-in,” he said, reading her mind.

  “It was nice. Hot. But I feel good.”

  “We’re running a promotion right now. Two weeks for fifty dollars but since you are new to our community, why don’t you try out one week free? Here’s the schedule.” He slid the brochure across to Bea. “We have some wonderful teachers. I hope you’ll give us a try.” His mouth dipped and Bea was splashed with sunshine.

  “See you next week.” Joney waved to Dakota. Outside she rolled her neck. “That was amazing. He’s one of my favorite teachers. He does bodywork too. You better not waste your free week.”

  Bea let herself into Joney’s car.

  “I do feel good, Joney, thanks.”

  “My pleasure.” She pulled the car away from the curb. “How are things at home?”

  Bea wished she hadn’t asked because she wanted to hold on to the good feeling longer. “Lonnie left this morning. It was making my skin crawl, living with him. He left reluctantly, but whatever. He left.”

  “Kids know?”

  “Not yet. They make this all so much more complicated.”

  “Children are resilient. You have to give them more credit.”

  “I can feel Chico watching me. He’s always been like that.”

  “My son, Ethan, was too when I was going through hell with his father. The moment Sonny raised his fist at me, Ethan would be right there pushing his father, screaming at him, trying to protect me.” Joney turned the corner. “Count your stars you didn’t marry a fighting man.”

  Bea didn’t want to think about being lucky.

  “I have a few books that I want you to read that will help. Trust me, Bea, you are on your way. It’s about acknowledging where you are and knowing that you are okay. The universe has your back and so do I.” She gave Bea a hug, even though they were sticky, smelly, and wet.