Good to Me

by LaTonya Mason

  You might as well end it all, a raspy sounding voice in her head suggested. You know you’re tired of fighting. Tired of pretending. Tired of being on the brink of a breakthrough. Go ahead, Charity, do it.

  “I ought to just kill myself,” Charity said out loud as if she thought of the idea herself. She flung back the warm bedsheets and jumped out of bed as if it were on fire. Usually she couldn’t stand to touch the hardwood floors first thing in the morning. But she was so intent on getting to the medicine cabinet in her bathroom that she didn’t feel the cold floor under her feet. “I’m tired of fighting, tired of pretending, and I’m tired of being on the brink of a breakthrough. I’m tired of doing this alone.” Charity licked the moisture that fell to her lip to see if she was really crying. She thought she had cried all of her tears last night. She knew she needed to get her Bible, but she didn’t feel like making the effort it took to read and meditate on Scriptures.

  All she could meditate on was the fact that she had closed her 401(k) retirement fund to make a $10,000 investment in Horizons, and it was now gone. Even if she wanted to start a new counseling practice, she didn’t have the start-up money to do it. She had only about a month’s worth of living expenses in her checking and savings account combined. What would she and Xavier do after that? “Protect my son, Lord. He doesn’t deserve any of this. He deserves to be happy. Emmitt was right, he’s been the better parent all along. I won’t fight him anymore. He can do a better job with Xavier than I can.” Charity cried even harder.

  That’s right, the voice validated. People think you have it all together, but you don’t. They think you’re perfect at everything. But the truth is that you’re a terrible mother, a poor excuse for a minister, a hateful ex-wife, and a trifling therapist. That’s why you’re going to lose your son, your business, and everything you own. Charity cried harder. You’ve been living a lie. That walking by faith stuff doesn’t work for you. You’re not doing it right and God is not pleased. Get out while you can, Charity. Do it now.

  “Who am I trying to fool?” she asked herself. “I’ve been living a lie. I’ve been pleasing people and disappointing God. I’ve been so careful to act according to how I thought I should and was supposed to, and this is where I end up. I’m so stupid. I need to get out while I can. I’d rather die than lose my son.”

  On her way to the bathroom, she caught a glimpse of herself in the tilted oak-framed cheval mirror that sat catercornered in her room. Something about her image disturbed her. She stepped backward to the mirror. Nothing but an overwhelming urge to look into her eyes.

  She heard a soft, but firm voice from within her say, Look into your eyes, Charity… Look into your eyes.

  She looked at the mirror and was distracted by smudges and fingerprints. “This mirror is dirty.”

  The voice sounded more urgent. Look into your eyes.

  She looked into the mirror and searched her face. It was easier to focus on her premenstrual pimples, chapped lips, and unarched eyebrows than it was for her to hold her own gaze. She wished she could see the things for which people complimented her. She often heard about how beautiful she was, how smooth and even her dark complexion was. A saleswoman at a makeup counter once told her that her skin was the perfect canvas for her large, expressive eyes. Charity figured the woman was just trying to make a sale. She’d been teased so much as a child about having “popeyes” and “platypus” lips that she despised the facial features people complimented most. Her fine shoulder-length tresses were unkempt most mornings but could easily be swept up into a style with her fingertips.

  Into your eyes, connect with your spirit.

  “Okay, okay.” She stepped up and peered into the mirror, fixing her eyes on to themselves.

  Greater is He who is within you than he who is of the world… In all these things, you are more than a conqueror.

  As the voice continued, it began sounding like it was coming from within her. I can do all things through Christ, who strengthens me. The Lord is my light and my—

  The raspy voice broke in, But to live is Christ and to die is gain… To be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord. Quit thinking about it and do it.

  “Shut up!” she shouted as she dropped her gaze. “I can’t take this anymore. God, I’m so sick of this. I can’t do this anymore. It’s too much. My life is a shambles, where are You?”

  She hurriedly walked into the bathroom and opened the oak medicine cabinet that was concealed behind a mirror. She snatched every medication from its place. A half bottle of ibuprofen, a pack of twelve over-the-counter sleeping pills, a bottle of cough syrup, and a pain medication prescribed for occasional migraines. She filled a paper cup with water to drink and went back to her bedroom.

  “I’m not taking all of these,” she said, dumping the contents on her bed. She put the cup of water on the nightstand and retrieved the phone book from underneath it. “I need to know which one will work.”

  She found two numbers she thought would be helpful. She hurriedly dialed the first one.

  “Poison Control Center, this is Sterling. How may I help you?” the voice answered pleasantly.

  “Yes, Sterling,” she said matter-of-factly and sat down on the bed. She counted the medication as she laid it out. “I need your help. I have a bottle of prescription pain medications here and I need to know if I have enough to kill myself. I don’t want to take these pills and wake up tomorrow. I need this to work. Can you help me?”

  “Ma’am, I can hear how frustrated and overwhelmed you are. Please promise me that you won’t hurt yourself without first talking about what can be done to help you. Will you do that?”

  “Sterling, listen to me. I didn’t call you to answer your questions. I called to get you to answer mine. Will you do that?” she mocked. “Because if not—”

  “You said you needed my help, right?”

  “Yes—”

  “Well, the only way I can help you is if you allow me to. Your calling me first was a very positive move. Will you let me help you?”

  “The only help I need—”

  “Will you let me help you?” he asked, more sternly than the first time.

  Hang up on him… You don’t need him. You have enough pills to do it.

  “Ma’am are you there?”

  “I really don’t need you, I can just start taking what I have now—”

  “Ma’am, is anyone there with you?”

  “Is thirty-two pills enough, Sterling?”

  “I would like to send you some help. What is your address?’

  Hang up, Charity. He is trying to trip you up.

  “I know what you are trying to do and it is not going to work.” She slammed the phone down and turned to the second number in the phone book. She dialed it.

  “Suicide Hotline,” a female answered. Charity almost hung up, thinking that the voice sounded familiar but she rationalized that she had heard so many voices this morning that they were all beginning to sound alike.

  “Look, I have thirty-two prescription pain pills here. I just need to know if I have enough to take to kill myself. Can you—”

  “Charity?” the voice asked uncertainly.

  Hang up, stupid. You’re so heavenly bound, you’re no earthly good. You can’t even kill yourself right.

  She slammed the phone down again. “Oh my God, oh my God,” she panicked. “Where do I know that voice from? That could be anybody—a church member, a client, a friend. Who? Oh my God. I’ve messed up now. Someone knows.” She scooped up the pills in her hand and swallowed as many as she could as fast as she could.

  MORE, MORE, MORE! You’re doing it, Charity. Finally standing up for yourself. Don’t stop now, take the sleeping pills too.

  Disappointed that she did not yet feel anything, she resolved to take the sleeping pills. She pushed the blue gel capsules through their foil packaging and swallowed them. She felt the urge to vomit.

  “No, no,” she cried. Her voice was fading with each refusal to
eject the poison from her body. “To live is Christ,” she said faintly. “But to die is…” Then there was silence.

  Chapter 24

  AS ADAMANT AS IESHA WAS about living a different lifestyle than before, she was glad to not have a job today. “Thank You, Jesus,” she sighed. After staying with Charity until after midnight, she was tired. Nevertheless, she refused to complain, because she knew that in the past when the tables were turned, her sister had been right there with her. When she and Mama Lorraine left her last night, Charity had finally fallen asleep after hours of crying and questioning her relationship with God. Iesha was glad that Xavier spent the night at Mama Lorraine’s, he didn’t need to see Charity like that.

  Iesha turned on her bedside lamp, hoping that would wake her up. The kids have school in less than an hour.

  “Sha-Lai! Quan!” she yelled. “Wake up. It’s time to get up.”

  She knew she needed to get up, too, or else she’d find the kids’ still asleep. She dragged herself out of bed and offered a quick prayer on her way to the kids’ rooms. “Thank You, Jesus, for waking me up this morning, clothing me in my right mind. Thank You, Lord, for my health and strength, and sparing me from excessive sorrow. In Jesus’ name—”

  She felt convicted for offering a prayer mindlessly and without reverence. She asked for forgiveness, retrieved her Bible, and knelt in the hallway to pray again. She searched her heart for words to say, and each time her mind wandered she repented and sought all the more to hear from God. Before she knew it, she was praying for Charity. She prayed for everything she could think of—her strength, her salvation, God’s protection and provision. She even confessed Psalm 91 over her sister, just like Charity had taught her to do. She refused to get up until she felt God release her. When she went to wake the children, she found them already dressed. Raquan was brushing his hair and Sha-Lai was brushing her teeth.

  “Good morning,” she greeted.

  The kids sang their good morning in unison.

  “I oughtta pray every morning if it makes y’all get up and get ready by yourselves. Good job. I’mma go throw something on and we’ll be ready to go. We’ll get breakfast from Burger King.”

  She heard Raquan say, “Yes!” before she turned to leave. She went to her room and threw on an old sweatsuit and put her microbraids in a ponytail.

  Iesha felt good this morning and she wanted to keep it this way.

  Charity had said that if Iesha wanted to be positive, she needed to put positive things into her spirit. Charity also told Iesha that her eyes, ear, and mouth were the gates to her heart and that she needed to guard what she watched, listened to, and read. She thought Charity was crazy for telling her to limit how much she watched the news and Lifetime TV, read the newspapers, and listened to secular music. But she at least agreed that she wouldn’t knock it until she tried it.

  She tuned her car radio to the AM setting and flipped through the stations.

  “Turn it back, Momma,” Raquan said when he heard some dance music.

  “I’m looking for gospel music, Quan.”

  “What’s gospel music?”

  “Music about God.” She turned it back to hear the lyrics. She started to turn it when she heard a reggae beat, but she listened to the lyrics about God being an awesome God and recognized them from an older song Mama Lorraine liked.

  Iesha sang along as best she could, praising God for reigning with wisdom, power, and love. She looked in her rearview mirror and saw Raquan and Sha-Lai jamming. Raquan was doing the Harlem shakes and only Sha-Lai knew what she was doing. Iesha started dancing too. She enjoyed the clever remix so much she hoped the host would announce the artist’s name.

  She shushed the kids when the host began talking. “Good morning to you. This is Zoe and Marcus sitting in with you on Morning Joy, helping you to have a terrific Tuesday. That was Kirk Franklin featuring Papa San on ‘He Reigns . . .’ ”

  Iesha reached for her cell phone and speed-dialed Charity. She remembered that Charity had played a Kirk Franklin CD at the open house. When she didn’t get an answer, she looked at the clock on the dashboard. Where could she be at 8:00 in the morning? She hung up when she considered that she could still be sleeping.

  She dropped the kids off at school and headed back toward home to do some cleaning. Her cell phone rang. The caller ID displayed Terrence’s name and number.

  “Hey, you,” she greeted him with his own words.

  “Hey, sweetie. Have you dropped the kids off yet?”

  “Yep, I’m on my way back home.”

  “I think I have your schedule down pat now. Did you eat breakfast?”

  “Sort of.”

  “Does that mean you’d like to eat with me, or at least watch me eat?”

  She looked down at her clothes. “Uh, I don’t think I should be out in public with what I have on.”

  “Please, it’s not the clothes that make you look good. You make them look good. I’m sure you’re fine. Do we have a date?”

  “If you don’t mind being with an old Mary J. Blige wannabe,” she chuckled.

  “Okay, Mary, meet me at Eat Well on Freedom Drive. That’s your side of town, right?”

  “Yes. How long will it take you to get there?”

  “Don’t even think about changing clothes. You go straight there. I might get there before you.’’

  After they said their good-byes, she offered up prayers of thanksgiving. God had more than answered her prayers. Not only had He given her a wonderful man, but this man was also fine, financially stable, and fun. Not to mention, saved. She arrived at Eat Well just a few minutes ahead of Terrence. She walked over to his sky-blue Honda Accord.

  He kissed her on the cheek. “Girl, Mary J. Blige wishes she looked like you.” Iesha blushed and followed him into the restaurant.

  “I’ve got a nine-thirty delivery to make this morning. Will you make the run with me?”

  “Well, I was thinking about going to check on my sister this morning.”

  “How about we do it together after my run?”

  Iesha agreed when Terrence gave her a charming look. “Okay, I’ll go. But don’t make that look no habit. It doesn’t work for my kids and it’s not gonna work for you.”

  “I’ll have to teach Raquan and Sha-Lai how to do it correctly,” he laughed.

  She was impressed that he remembered their names. “You have a good memory.”

  “Only when it comes to what’s important.”

  She just shook her head when she considered how mindful God is of her. She finished her hot chocolate and waited for him to finish his breakfast. Iesha begged to leave the tip while he paid the bill. She’d heard Charity talk about sowing seeds and she wanted to give it a try. When he finished his food, he suggested she leave her car at the restaurant and ride with him.

  “If you’re delivering something, why aren’t you driving your truck?”

  “I kept my schedule light today. I just have this nine-thirty and another one later. I let the guys take my load today.”

  “Oh.”

  “You think I’m up to something?”

  “I don’t know. You tell me!”

  He smiled. “You didn’t tell me you were paranoid. Anything else you think I should know?”

  “No that’s about it.”

  “You sure? ’Cause I hate to find out—”

  “Oooh oooh, turn that up!” She interrupted when she heard the song that she and the kids were listening to earlier.

  Terrence turned up the volume of his CD player. “A Kirk Franklin fan, huh?”

  “I heard that song for the first time this morning. I like it.”

  “Oh, you should hear the whole CD. It’s nice. This is my favorite track.” He pushed a button a couple of times. “This is called ‘My Love, My Life, My All.’”

  They rode in silence, listening to the confessions of adoration and praise.

  “That is beautiful,” Iesha agreed. “I was going to ask my sister if I could borrow her CD.
May I borrow yours?”

  “Borrow? You can have it. I’ll get another one.”

  Terrence parked the car and walked around to Iesha’s door, She observed where they were. She had never been inside of the “gold building” as her friends called it. He went to the trunk to grab his clipboard and a box. He dropped his clipboard. They bumped heads as they both bent down to pick it up.

  “I’m sorry,” he apologized. “It ain’t like this box is heavy.”

  “You need me to carry something?”

  “No, I’ve got it.”

  She looked at him crossly. He seemed fidgety and nervous. “This ain’t no drug run, is it?”

  He laughed. “No. Come on before you call the police on me.”

  “And you know this.”

  They rode the elevator to the fourth floor. “I’mma wait for you on the elevator in case something goes down,” Iesha joked.

  “Come on. I brought you along because I wanted you to know what I do.”

  “I’ll hold the elevator so I can see.”

  “Girl, come on here.” He gently pulled her out and led her to Diamonds Direct.

  “Heck no, I ain’t going in there,” Iesha said, pulling back when she saw a man with a long ponytail in a suit working behind a jewelry counter. “He look like he work for the Mafia. You deliver your package by yourself.”

  “Iesha,” Terrence called her name in a tone she had not heard him use. “Baby, this has nothing to do with my job. I brought you here because I love you and I want to spend my life with you.” Even though she was no longer resisting him, she was not quite sure she understood what he was saying. He continued, “You said yesterday that if I asked you to marry me, that you would.” He put the box and clipboard down and kneeled on both knees. He took her hands. “Iesha, will you make me an even more blessed man by agreeing to be my wife? Marry me.”

  She swallowed hard and looked around to see if anyone was watching. “Terrence, you are a wonderful man of God, more than I could ever deserve. But it’s just been one week to the day and I have kids that you haven’t even met, you don’t even know my background, I just lost my job—”