by Cydney Rax
“Okay,” I say without turning my head.
“When you’re done with the dishes, could you pour a glass of water from the fridge? Make sure it’s totally full.”
“No problem,” I lazily reply. I feel worn out and want to go upstairs, run a bubble bath, then maybe read and get some sleep.
I fill a glass with water and sit next to Neil.
“Here, take these,” he says, and slides two blue-and-white capsules near me.
“Take them for what?”
Neil is turning the pages of the business section but says, “Just do it.”
I laugh. “Just say no.”
Neil doesn’t laugh but I sense he’s waiting on me.
“Okay, I’ll do it but you’ll have to explain what this is about.” I pick up the pills one at a time and wash them down with the entire glass of water. “Happy now? Okay, what’s up, Neil? Are you trying to tell me something?”
“Like what?”
“I’ve gained five pounds. Is this some type of diet pill? You’re ashamed of me?”
He lowers the paper. “No, Anya. You look the same to me.”
“‘The same’ could be interpreted ‘fat as always.’”
“I don’t mean that and you know it. You’re the one who feels self-conscious about your weight. You know I never ride you about that.”
“But if you had your choice, you’d want me slimmer, wouldn’t you?”
Neil resumes reading the newspaper. He’s reading the death notices section, and I know there’s nothing in there that could possibly concern him.
“You don’t have to say it, Neil. It’s cool.”
We lock eyes and both laugh. I hop up. “You want dessert? I can whip up some strawberry shortcake real quick.”
“No, I’m good. I’m about to tuck myself in.”
I stand up, “Okay, see ya.”
“Anya.” He coughs. “I’ll need you to take these pills twice daily for another eleven days, okay?”
The next morning after Neil leaves for work, I burst in the library and start pulling out desk drawers, search under the couch, running my fingers all over his desktop. I un-shelve and re-shelve books, and remove sofa cushions. Nothing there, either.
When he gets home that night, I behave like everything is normal, but when he goes to use the bathroom on the first floor, I wait outside the door so I can ask him about the pills he’s just given me. They’re resting in the center of my hand. Neil told me to go drink some water while he went to relieve himself. I hear him in there—it sounds like a gallon of liquid is being poured in the toilet. He makes moaning sounds, hissing and groaning at the same time. When he opens the door and sees me, his eyes are red, and he gives me a skeptical look.
“Neil, you are not going to give me pills and not explain why I’m taking them. All I have to do is go to my pharmacist and she’ll tell me what these are.”
He bristles but walks past me. I follow him to his library.
“I see all my things look messed over,” he says. “Why’d you ransack my room? I may have to pull an Anya and install a lock on this door.”
I throw the two pills on the floor and crush them with the tip of my pumps. White powder is now smeared on the rug.
“Anya, you’re stupid, you know that? You have no idea what you’re doing. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“What’s wrong with you, Neil? I can’t be with a man who talks in riddles, who only wants me to do what he says. It’s not right and I won’t stand for it.”
Neil sighs and lies on the sofa. When I sit next to him he doesn’t scoot over to make more room.
“Think about this,” I say to him. “You have a daughter who’s going to develop into a young woman one day. How will you like it when she begins dating and having sex? What if she hooks up with a man who acts just like you? You won’t like it when Reesy comes home crying because some brother dogs her out, has sex with multiple partners, and she gets emotionally damaged in the process.”
“The multiple partners idea…”
“What can I do to change that, huh, Neil? I’ve done things because I loved you.”
“Loved? As in ‘not anymore’?”
“It’s not feeling like it used to.”
“And when were you going to tell me all this?”
“I’m telling you now. But…I don’t really mean it. I don’t want you to think I don’t care. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t still be with you. I just wish you’d talk to me. Sometimes we go days without saying one word to each other. I don’t get it because it’s not like I’m angry like I used to be. I’m not totally angry, just frustrated.”
Neil is lying back with his hands tucked underneath his head. His eyes are closed. It’s the classic shut-out move; he’s being a hypocrite, and it’s wrong. To me communication involves talking things out even if you’re arguing. But if Neil refuses to say anything, I know I’m on the losing end.
“Neil, either tell me what these pills are or I’m going to my pharmacist.”
“Okay, give me a sheet of paper and a pen.”
I walk over to his desk and grab a memo pad and a pen and give them to him. He jots down a few words, then hands me the paper.
“Don’t read this until you are out of this room,” he tells me. “Once you read it, I don’t want to talk about it, Anya. I just want to go to sleep.”
“Everything always goes your way, right? The world revolves around you for some reason.”
I close the door to the library and walk up the stairs to my room. And when I look at the paper, I see that it says:
Antibiotics. Doxycycline. Take every single pill. Your health depends on it.
I Google “doxycyline” on the Internet and get some info on chlamydia. I recall how a few weeks ago Neil and I had some spontaneous unprotected sex, and coupled with the vaginal discharge I’ve been experiencing, my worst fears are confirmed. I run down the stairs screaming and stop at the library door. Neil’s standing there blocking my entrance and he closes the door in my face. He keeps holding it so I can’t come in. So I sob like a wounded animal and curse him out from the other side; I’m too upset to care that Reesy has come downstairs and is crying, too.
Then I calm down, remember the bigger picture, and realize I have no choice but to take the rest of the pills. And with or without antibiotics, Neil better not touch me with his diseased double-dipping dick again.
All while I was taking the meds, I didn’t initiate any conversation with Neil and barely looked him in the face. He had to cook his own meals, wash his own laundry, and clean the kitchen for a change, and he had the nerve to complain the entire time.
But now it’s a couple of weeks later in early April, on a Saturday afternoon. Vette, Riley, and I are in the mood to see a movie at the Alamo Drafthouse Cinema in West Oaks Mall. This is the only theater in town where you can watch a flick while being served food and drinks by waiters. We find our seats and order grilled chicken salad, vegan pizza, blue-cheese hamburgers, and sodas. Then we settle in, eat good food, and laugh at Adam Sandler’s antics for an hour and a half.
“Mmm, that was fun, ladies,” Riley says afterward. “Let’s walk around the mall and look for shoe and purse sales.”
After examining lots of merchandise but not buying much, we order ice-cold kiwi smoothies and relax at a table in the noisy food court.
“I wonder how Neil is making out with the kids,” Riley says. “I was very impressed he agreed to watch the girls.”
Vette and I just glance at each other.
“The Bible says a man that finds a wife finds a good thing. I’m gonna sit back and let the man find me,” Riley says. “I want to be like Ms. Anya and Neil.”
“Uh, no you don’t,” Vette says. Then, turning to me: “Sister-in-law, it’s time you schooled this woman.”
Riley looks from me to Vette, then to me again.
“You are a sweetie, Riley. But I hate when you think Neil and I have a perfect marriage. We’re not exactly Will S
mith and Jada. In fact, the only thing Neil and Will have in common is first names that rhyme.”
“Awww, it couldn’t be that bad,” Riley says.
“You don’t know the half,” Vette offers, and I’m sure she’s dying to disclose all the juicy details.
“I’m sorry, Riley, but you put me and my husband on that pedestal, a place I never wanted to be.”
“I apologize for assuming, Ms. Anya. It just seems like whenever I see you two, you look fairly content.”
“We’re like any other couple, Riley. We have our moments. But don’t despair. I think you deserve a good man and I hope you find someone much better than Neil.”
“Well, anybody’s better than Jamal.” She laughs, her eyes sparkling. “There’re some good men at Solomon’s Temple, but seems like most of ’em are already taken. I don’t want any man that’s always attached to someone else. Talk about drama.”
“Let’s talk about it,” I say.
Riley lets slip a sharp laugh. “I can tell you some stuff, hon. These chickenheads out here don’t care. You tell them that’s your man, they’ll say, ‘Well, he’s mine when you turn your back.’ And they’ll be grinning and proud of themselves. I don’t understand this generation at all. Back in the day, we wouldn’t think of taking someone else’s man. Or we’d at least be a little more discreet about it. But in the new millennium, no shame in the game.”
“You got that right,” says Vette. “But what goes around comes right back the fuck around, so…” She has a gleam in her eye. “Like what happens a lot of times in the movies—the bad guy can raise hell the first three-fourths of the flick, but by the ending, everyone knows what’s going down. And when it does, we never even feel sorry for his dumb ass. Everyone gets their due in the final scene.”
“That’s all good,” I tell Vette, “but in the real world sometimes things have a strange way of dodging fate. Because I’m a witness that everybody doesn’t get what’s coming to them. Everything doesn’t always work out for the bad guy. Haven’t you heard of getting away with murder?”
“Anya, if you could see the look on your face, hon.”
“That’s okay. I don’t need a mirror to see what I already know.”
The people you hate tend to inhabit your mind. So when we get back from the movies and I notice Neil sulking around the house, I ask, “Where’s Dani?”
“Huh? I dunno. Home, I guess.”
“You look so depressed. Why don’t I go pick up the baby? Dani can come, too.”
“I’m not in the mood for your games.”
“I’m serious, Neil. I think they both should come over here more often.”
“Why would you think something like that? I don’t want both of them over here.”
“Okay, tell you what. Let’s flip a coin. Heads, I’ll go get Brax. Tails, Dani has to come along, too. How about that?”
“Whatever.”
I go to my purse and pull out a shiny quarter. “You flip the coin, Neil.”
“Anya, you need therapy,” he says in a tired voice.
I smirk and press the coin in Neil’s palm. He flips the silvery piece of metal and looks at the results of the toss. I laugh and pump my fist. Neil walks away.
“Why’d Neil leave so suddenly?” Dani asks. We’re in the kitchen. I’ve cut up pieces of banana. Reesy is mashing the fruit with a spoon, and Brax is trying to grab the spoon with his fingers because Reesy isn’t feeding him fast enough.
“Hmm, your guess is as good as mine,” I tell her. “But that’s okay. We don’t need him to hang with us all the time, now, do we?”
Dani’s sitting down with her eyes fixed on the kitchen table. She’s acting like she can’t hear. I know it’s because I’m making her nervous. She’s hip to the fact that, on the one hand, I treat her nasty-nice, but then on the other, I turn around and request that she come over. Both she and Neil think I’m losing it. But I’m losing nothing. Haven’t they heard about keeping your enemies close? Keep them so close that they feel too awkward to try anything?
“Now finish what you were telling me,” I say, and take a seat next to her. When I offered her a beer a few minutes ago, she just stared at me. I think she wanted to roll her eyes but thought twice about it.
“I was saying that my boss was really acting like an ass.”
“What was he doing?”
“What wasn’t he doing?” she says.
“Be specific, Dani.”
“Okay. Duntworth would stand over my shoulder even though I really didn’t have any serious work to do. And sometimes he monitored my personal calls.”
“That sounds like something every boss does.”
“Remember a month ago when it was storming really badly? Well, while I was outside battling the weather, my stupid thirty-five-dollar umbrella broke. So I go to the ladies’ room and have to blow-dry my hair, ’cause it’s all wet and stringy looking. My hair took a good thirty minutes to dry. And when I got back to my office, Mr. D hands me a personal-leave request form. And my time spent in the ladies’ room? He forced me to charge that to vacation time.”
“Hmmm,” I say, suppressing a smile. “Whatever did you do to piss off your boss?”
Dani frowns and avoids eye contact. She’s not her usual spirited, happy-go-lucky self. She’s more sullen today, like she has serious issues on her mind. And from everything she’s been telling me, I’m thinking maybe the bad guy does get what he deserves—even if the bad guy is a woman.
“You know, Duntworth has always been an all-out bastard, it’s just that lately, His Royal Asshole really lived up to his title. So, you know, I don’t know. I–I…”
She looks at me like she’s studying me, assessing what’s in my eyes.
“Anya, what time do you get up in the morning?” Her voice sounds sweet yet edgy.
“Uh, usually at six, sometimes a little earlier. Why?”
“And you’re here every day with Reesy?”
“Get to the point.”
“I’m thinking about doing some serious hustling trying to find another gig. It’ll look bad if I walk into a potential employer’s with Brax strapped to my back. Or do you think they’d even notice? I’m sure I can bring him with me just to fill out some applications—No, no, that wouldn’t work. Too unprofessional.”
“Audrey?” I finally find my voice.
“Uh, no. I feel like I can’t depend on her to do a good job every single day.”
Dani leans toward me and whispers, “One time, when Audrey gave me the slip, I had no choice but to take Brax with me to work. I put him in the truck, drove to the job, and was about to leave him in the car while I worked half a day.” She leans back against the chair and calmly gazes at me.
“Dani,” I say firmly. “Now, I hope you didn’t do that one time, but even if you did, ain’t no way I’d let you do something so foolish a second time. It’s getting so hot in Houston and you cannot leave that precious baby in your car. Brax would be dead by the time you get back, and CPS would be after you.” Brax looks up. I guess he’s like most other folks. Whenever we hear someone speak our name, our ears prick up.
“Hey, you,” I say, and go lift him up. Looking at me with wide eyes, Brax places his head against my chest. I tap his back with my fingers, then kiss him on the cheek. He takes in a loud breath and sighs. Content. Secure.
“Anya, can I let you in on something that I swore I’d never tell you?”
“What?” I freeze, my gut stiffening into a tight ball.
“I know what it’s like to lose a child.”
I stare at Dani, perplexed.
“I’ve never had a miscarriage, but you can lose a baby without having a miscarriage, if you know what I mean.” She takes a deep breath. “I know what it’s like to carry a man’s child yet never get to see the baby’s face. The father’s name was Fred. And Fred didn’t want me anymore, which I automatically interpreted as him not wanting our child, either. So…I made an appointment, went to that stupid abortion clinic all b
y myself because I had no one to go with me. I—” Her voice catches. “I saw all these silly-looking young girls waiting in the lobby—black, white, you name it. I kept my face buried in a magazine, though. I pretended like I didn’t see them and I hoped they didn’t see me. I–I rubbed my belly over and over and kept saying to my baby, ‘I hate you, I hate you,’ but I was lying.” Her voice is a shattered whisper, and her head shakes in wonder.
“Oh, Dani,” I mumble, and reach over to stroke her shoulder.
She sighs. “The doctor asked me if I was positive I wanted to terminate, and I said, ‘Hell, yeah.’ He probably asked because my face was all wet. I looked a mess. But he went on and completed the procedure. Got it over with. And I lay there in that cold room, scared for my future, thinking about what could have been.”
“My God,” I say, shuddering.
“The nurse issued me a prescription for these pills I needed to take for two weeks. She told me no sex for six weeks, yada yada. So I called a cab and went outside to wait for my ride, and I started feeling dizzy. A thick amount of bile rose up my throat and I puked right there in the bushes, seconds before that cab drove up. I hopped in and chatted with the driver as if everything in my life was absolutely perfect.” She stares at me with haunted eyes, stares at me with eyes I recognize from when I stare in my own mirror.
“Dani, I’m so sorry…”
“I guess I’m trying to say that it may not seem like it, but I know what it’s like to be you in some ways. Except you have such outstanding motherly instincts, and I’m trying my best to make a good life for my son. I just need to get the right gig, so…”
My throat swells so much I can barely talk, but I tell her, “You know, I don’t mind watching your baby for you…”
Dani quietly gazes at me as she ponders my offer.
I tell her, “Just bring an ample supply of clothes and toys. We’ll handle buying his food—at least Neil will.”
Dani’s watery eyes lock with mine, and for once I detect genuine appreciation in her. It’s amazing how common experiences have the power to transform.