Stiles had dreamed about his wedding night for a long time. But he was sitting on the side of the bed at a five star hotel in St. Simons, Island. The breathtaking view of the Atlantic Ocean, with the waves pounding against the beach outside of their hotel suite, meant nothing to him because all he heard was his bride in the hotel bathroom throwing up. He couldn’t for the life of him understand what was going on. All he knew was that it started at the wedding reception. She told him she wasn’t feeling well, but he didn’t know that she was actually sick for real. He’d tried several times to hold her and caress her, hoping that would make her feel at ease just in case it was a bad bout of nerves that was causing her to become ill.
Their flight had been just as horrible. Rena’s complexion was pale and looking at her no one could tell this was her wedding day. When they arrived in St. Simons, the hour long drive to their hotel was filled with a dull silence.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m sorry, but I feel awful. She held her stomach and wretched and raced to the bathroom, closing the door behind her.
“Rena, honey let me come in,” he pleaded with her from the other side of the locked bathroom door.
“I don’t want you to see me like this on our wedding night. I’ll try to be out in a minute. I think the nausea is passing.
Rena sat on the ice cold tile floor of the luxurious bathroom thinking about what she was going to do, or not do. There‘s no way I can be intimate with Stiles. Not until I found a way to get tested or at least get to a computer to find out more about herpes. I can’t take the chance. Even if what Frankie said turns out to be a lie, she’s managed to ruin the most important night of my life. Some way to spend my wedding night. She curled up in a knot on the floor and wept with Stiles on the outside pleading with her to come out or let him come in.
After almost two hours, she finally unlocked the door and tip-toed out of the bathroom. A shirtless Stiles was laying on the king-sized, snoring lightly and curled in a fetal position. She ambled over to the bed, lightly pulled back the satin sheets and climbed between them.
Stiles turned over and pulled her body next to his. She tried to resist his butterfly kisses as they landed delicately upon her neck and along her shoulder. His need for her was evident. Before she could up a protest, he turned her face toward his and covered her mouth with his. Rena was no match for his sexual fervor, and she gasped with desire of her own. There was no turning back. She whispered a prayer within her spirit that what she was about to let happen would not be the beginning of their end. Then she gave in to her husband’s physical needs and those of her own.
Five days later, Rena and Stiles returned from their honeymoon. She was sick with worry. What kind of person was she? She had chosen to deceive her husband rather than reveal the truth to him about her past, and the possibility that she might have an STD. What a way to start a marriage. After arriving at their new home, Rena tried to rush past Stiles as he carried in their luggage. They had shopped for the house three weeks before settling on purchasing the three bedroom three bath brick home on Berry Hill Drive.
“Hey, hold up. What’s your hurry, Mrs. Graham?” he asked her.
“Oh, nothing. I‘m just anxious to see our new home; the place where we’re going to spend the rest of our lives together,” she told him with a broad, fake smile embracing her cherub face.
Stiles sat the luggage down in the foyer then reached for his wife. Pulling her by her narrow waist toward him, he scooped her up in his arms and passionately kissed her.
“Welcome home, Mrs. Graham,” he remarked and proceeded to carry her across the threshold of their modest home and into the master bedroom.
Standing in the master bedroom, inches from their provocatively enticing king bed, Stiles yearned for his wife. “Hey,” he said and nibbled on her ear. “It’s time we christen 689 Berry Hill Drive.” He used his husbandly rights to become familiar with her waist, thighs and buttocks. Tilting her head backward he tasted the saltiness of her breath.
“Stiles,” Rena giggled but escaped from his arms. “Baby, we have time for that. We’ve been gone a week. You know you should go to check on Frankie and your parents, and ….” She held her breath for a moment, ‘I need to check on some things too, like my mail and I plan to run by and see Frankie.” Rena walked up on him and rubbed her hands along the contours of his chest. She smiled and patted his cheek
Stiles wasn’t falling for it. “Listen, I don’t want a confrontation but, baby, we’ve barely been married a week, and starting off arguing is something neither of us should want. I can understand your being nervous and apprehensive on our wedding night. For God’s sake, you were a virgin and terrified at that. But, baby, look at me. He shifted his eyes downward at his manhood with Rena’s eyes following against her will.
“In a tender baby silk voice, Rena worked things to her advantage. “Look, I promise I won’t be gone long. If you go check on Frankie and your parents then I’ll go to the post office, grab out mail, and stop at the neighborhood market to get us something to eat. We’re going to need our energy,” she said teasingly, biting his bottom lip.
Stiles relented easily. “Okay, but I want to be with you, Mrs. Graham, and only you.” He kissed her upper back. Rubbing her butt, he took a half step back. “Promise me you’ll be back soon. I’m only going to run by Emerald Estates and make sure everyone’s fine. Then I’m headed back here to spend the rest of the evening and night with the most beautiful wife in the world.”
Rena flippantly threw her hand, grabbed her purse and keys and threw him a kiss. “I love you, Stiles,” she said and scooted pass the box of items in the foyer.
Rena couldn’t chance waiting another minute. If she ever hoped to have a satisfying marriage with Stiles, she had to know if she had contracted an STD. She drove downtown to the Shelby County Health Department. The drive was one of the most frightening times in all of her twenty-four years of life. She dashed inside the clinic and searched for the STD clinic. With her head bowed, shielding her embarrassment and humiliation from the others in the waiting room, Rena grabbed a number from the counter like the receptionist told her. She waited several hours in the waiting area before a slender, young Asian woman called her number. She didn’t care that the brochure on the table next to her said that for every 1,000 people tested, one would test positive for an STD; she didn’t want to be that one.
“What are you going to do?” Rena asked the pleasant, black haired nurse as she led her back to a tiny room and motioned her to sit.
The phlebotomist appeared close to Rena’s age. She pulled up a chair and sat in front of her “Tell me why you’re here, and be truthful. Nothing goes outside of this room.” The woman’s tone calmed her.
In that case I guess I’m ashamed of the life I’ve lived. I’m nasty and disgusting and I’ve been sleeping with another woman for ten years. How’s that for telling the truth. Oh, did I mention that I feel ugly, filthy and most of all, ashamed for letting God down? Her clamored thoughts gave way to her stammering voice. Nervously, she rubbed her hands together hoping somehow she could ignore the pulsing knot that formed in her stomach. “I believe I’ve contracted an STD,” Rena answered without going into detail. “I just married a wonderful man. I didn’t know I might be infected until recently. And before you ask, there’s no chance I contracted it from him. I can’t tell him, I just can’t,” Rena repeated with her head hung low. “If I’m infected it would destroy everything.” She covered her glistening eyes with her hands.
“Before you jump to conclusions, let’s find out once and for sure. I don’t think you can grasp the stories I’ve heard from people just like yourself. Sometimes things just happen, so don’t be so hard on yourself. I want you to relax as much as you can.” She broke into an open, friendly smile.
Rena exhaled slowly. “Thank you. I feel a little better.”
“Good. Now, the first test I’m going to give you is a rapid HIV test. It detects antibodies to HIV-1 that are found in
blood specimens. It requires a tiny finger-stick.” The phlebotomist reached for Rena’s trembling hand.
Rena pulled her hand back. An alarm bell went off in her head. “Why do I need an HIV test? I know I don’t have that,” she insisted.
“I don’t think you want to take any chances. You’re here because you think you’ve contracted an STD. If it turns out that you have, you need to know what it is. That means I need to check for them all. Okay?”
“Okay,” answered Rena wondering what she would do if Stiles suddenly burst through the door. She shook her head slightly to dispel the thought.
The nurse reached for Rena’s hand a second time and this time Rena didn’t object. “This will take barely a nanosecond,” she said and pricked Rena’s finger before she had time to react. She placed a cotton ball on the tip of Rena’s finger and held it in place until the blood clotted. I’ll know the results in about twenty minutes. If it comes back non-reactive, that means your final result will be negative. But if it reacts, I’ll have to do a confirmatory test.”
“What’s that?”
“It involves doing an actual blood test. It takes about one week for the results to come back. There’s also a possibility that you could react on the first step and not be infected. The final test result is not HIV positive unless both steps are reactive.”
“Oh, my God. What have I done?”
“Look at it like this; everyone needs to take the same battery of test every couple of years. What you’re doing makes sense if you want to do what’s best for yourself and your husband. More people should do this before they suspect they have an STD.” The nurse stood. “Let me take this to the lab. While we’re waiting on the results of your HIV test I’ll start the next series.”
Rena stood and paced around the cramped space. Her head felt like a spinning top. “God, help me. You said if I confess my sins, you would be faithful to forgive me and cleanse me. Do it, Lord. Forgive me and cleanse me from any diseases.” The nagging thoughts in the back of her mind refused to be still. Startled, her body jerked and she covered her heart with her hand.
“Sorry, I frightened you,” the nurse apologized when she witnessed Rena’s uneasiness. “Are you ready to get the rest of the tests done and over with?”
Rena shook her head and sat down. Awkwardly she cleared her throat. “What will the next tests be for?” asked Rena, her pretty face clouded with uneasiness.
“They can detect chlamydia, herpes, syphilis, and a few others. May I ask you something a little more personal?
“What do you want to ask?” Rena responded with apprehension.
“Do you believe?”
“I beg your pardon?” The waxed eyebrows gathered on Rena’s face.
“I asked you if you believed. You know. Believe in God?” The nurse looked up toward the ceiling as she said the words, believe in God.
“Yes. Yes, of course I do. My husband is a minister.” Rena responded slowly.
“Then no matter what happened to bring you to this place, God is big enough to handle it. Don’t go around condemning yourself. Everyone has a past. Everyone,” the nurse emphasized.
“Thank you for sharing that. I just feel so ashamed. And I don’t know how to tell my husband, or if I can tell him.” Rena couldn’t hold back the tears that had gathered in the corners of her eyes and trickled down her face. ‘I’ll destroy his life, our marriage and the lives of his parents and mine.” Rena leaned her head down and continued sobbing. Oh God, Frankie. What have you done?
“Your spouse still has a right to know. You have a moral obligation to tell him. And if your tests come back negative, you still aren’t out of the woods, especially when it comes to HIV and genital herpes.” The nurse reached over to her left side and grabbed the box of tissue on the desk.
“What do you mean?”
Passing the box to Rena, she said, “Take HIV for example. The tests could come back negative but it could be too soon for the antibodies to show up. You should be retested every six months for at least two years. As for genital herpes, up to ninety-percent of those with the virus don’t know they’re infected. They may have had symptoms but either didn’t recognize it or either confused it with something else. The herpes virus, similar to HIV, can lie dormant in a person’s bodies for years; and having genital herpes increases the risk of contracting HIV.”
Teary-eyed, Rena stared ahead.
“I’m all done,” the nurse said, after taking several vials of blood from Rena’s upper arm. “It will take two maybe two and a half hours before I have the results. At that time I’ll tell you the results of your rapid HIV test too. You can go to the reception area and wait or, if you want to, you can leave and come back. But make sure you inform the receptionist up front if you do decide to leave. The nurse gathered the vials and placed them in a container. “I’m praying for you, sweetie. But you need to pray for yourself too.”
The nurse closed the door behind her, leaving Rena alone in the testing room. Rena sobbed and prayed. Wiping her red eyes again, she opened the door and walked to the reception area. How could I have been so naïve? Finding a seat next to a magazine rack, she picked up a pamphlet that discussed, of all subjects, STDs and lesbians. She became transfixed on what she read. ‘…Oral herpes can be transmitted to the genitals, and vice versa. Symptoms are similar…Lesbian women are at risk for many of the same STDs as heterosexual women…Lesbians can transmit HPV through genital skin-to-skin contact…Lesbians can transmit genital herpes through intimate contact with someone with a lesion or by touching infected skin, even when an outbreak is not visible.’
The nurse had definitely not exaggerated. Rena drifted off into a light sleep. Her eyes lazily opened when after three hours of waiting, she heard her name called.
“Well, God does answer prayer,” the kind nurse said as soon as they entered the lab.
A grin as wide as the Mississippi River spread over Rena’s face. She listened to the nurse go over each test result. A giant sense of relief consumed her when the nurse told her that her tests results were negative.
“Thank you, God,” Rena screamed and threw her hands in the air.
“Let me explain,’ the nurse continued. “You’re not totally out of the woods yet. Remember that I told you that you should have an HIV test every six months for the next two years?”
Rena shook her head hurriedly up and down. “Yes, yes, I know that. But God has heard my prayers. He’s answered me. I don’t have any STD.” Rena cried and raised her hands up in total praise to God. Rena barely heard the words coming forth from the nurse. At this moment, she was far too happy, but she tried to listen. “Nurse, what did you say? I’m just so filled right now, I can hardly contain myself.”
“I know that, and I’m happy for you. But you know have to do my job here too,” the nurse said and chuckled. “Okay, now where was I? I hope you follow through on the series of HIV tests. The next test I want to touch on is the one we did for herpes, which was your main concern when you came here.”
“But didn’t you say all of my tests were negative? So why do we need to keep beating a dad horse?” Rena asked, with a critical tone to her voice.
“You’re right but let me remind you that herpes is hard to detect, especially when there is no sign of an outbreak. Like I said, it can be tricky. I know your test results are negative but I strongly advise you to see your internist or gynecologist if you detect a sore, lesion, redness, burning or irritation in your genital area. “Promise me that you’ll do that,” the nurse emphasized. It would be even better if you and your husband used a condom during sex. At least until we’re one hundred percent sure that your HIV and herpes test are one hundred percent negative.”
“A condom?” Rena’s cheerfulness gave way to a look of confusion. “I hear what you’re saying. But it’s not that easy,” Rena eagerly replied. “If I could convince my husband to use protection when we made love, just until I finished the series of HIV tests, then you’re right, I would feel so much b
etter, but I already know that he wouldn’t agree to anything like that, unless I told him the reason. Imagine me going home tonight, the very day we returned from our honeymoon and telling him he needs to wear a condom. I’m his wife, for God’s sake. A red flag larger than the statue of liberty would start flying. So to be honest with you,” Rena commented with gritted teeth and annoyance in her eyes, “There’s no reason to tell him anything. You said it yourself, my tests are negative. This nightmare is over.”
“I understand, but listen to me…”
“No, you listen. My husband and I want to have children right away. Now, I’ll take the series of HIV tests, which I don’t think I need to do, but I will. But as for anything else, and certainly suggesting that we use a condom, it’s out of the question. I want a child just as much as he does. Don’t you think I would take your advice if I believed for one second that I would endanger him or a baby? You asked me if I believed in God. I told you I did. I prayed and asked Him to forgive me and to let every test be negative. He did just what I asked. Now you’re standing here like you don’t believe he is the author and finisher of our faith. I’m telling you one last time─I’m healed. I thank God because it was you who remind me of his awesome power. I’ve been cleansed. Thank God, I’ve been forgiven.” Opening the door, Rena gulped hard, hot tears slipped down her cheeks and she fled out of the door.
Stiles arrived at Emerald Estates. Since Rena insisted on running errands, he took advantage of the free time to visit his family.
“Stiles, why are you here alone?” Audrey asked after she opened the door and didn’t see her daughter-in-law. “I know you haven’t left your beautiful bride alone already.”
“It’s more like she left me alone,” answered Stiles smiling. “She had some things she said she couldn’t put off. He looked around the room for some sign of her. She was supposed to stop by and visit Frankie while she was out.”
“Maybe she did, but Pastor and I just pulled up before you did. We had an exquisite lunch at Madidi. You know Morgan Freeman’s’ restaurant in Clarksdale, Mississippi,” Audrey gushed with pleasure. “I barely had a moment to kick off my shoes before you rang the doorbell, so I haven’t had a chance to check with Frankie to see if any one stopped by while we were gone. Pastor is in his study on the phone.”
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