The List

by Sherri L. Lewis

  I stared at the pills.

  Nicole put a hand on her hip. “God gave us plants for natural cures, so it’s not like you’re not having faith for healing.” She picked up the pills and shoved them at me. “Look, we’re the ones that have to spend the whole day with you. The least you could do is try them.”

  Angela tsked at Nicole. “Girl, stop being evil. You’ll only make it worse.”

  Lisa chimed in, “Yeah, Nicole. At least she can blame emotional craziness on hormones, and it only happens once a month. What’s your excuse?”

  Nicole shot Lisa an evil stare.

  I obediently swallowed the pills, ignoring the organic taste in my mouth.

  We filled our plates with my special treats. Everybody was silent for a few minutes as we started eating.

  Lisa finally spoke. “So, Michelle, you’re thirty-five today. How does it fe–”

  She stopped talking when Angela elbowed her in the side and shook her head. Everybody kept eating.

  After a few minutes, Vanessa said, “Michelle, we want you to know that . . .” Her voice trailed off.

  Nicole rolled her eyes. “This is ridiculous. We’re all afraid to talk because we don’t want her to cry? I tell you what. Michelle, talk about what’s bothering you—what we know you cried about when you woke up and in the car on the way over here. Let’s get it out in the open and deal with it, so we won’t be dancing on eggshells all day. This is supposed to be a celebration. Sheesh . . .”

  Everyone stiffened a little and looked at me.

  I stared past Angela and Lisa at the lake behind Vanessa’s breakfast room bay window. The water moved slowly with the sun reflecting off it, creating a tranquil glow.

  “Well . . .” I nibbled on a chocolate strawberry. The bitter sweetness of the dark chocolate blended with the natural sweetness of the strawberry. “I woke up alone this morning. No husband. No babies. And I’m thirty-five. This wasn’t the life I dreamed of. But I have no choice but to accept it.”

  I took a bite of mango. Its tropical, tangy sweetness contrasted sharply with the strawberry-chocolate combination. I wondered if being hormonal made my taste buds more sensitive. I watched everyone waiting for the tears as I continued sampling the fruit. I was more surprised than they were when no tears came.

  I decided to continue. “I’ve asked God countless times to send my husband, but I guess He’s not listening. Or maybe He doesn’t think I’m ready. I’ve done therapy. I’ve healed and forgiven and realized my mistakes. I think my heart is ready to love again. But I guess He doesn’t.”

  I stopped for a minute to listen to the wind chimes tinkling outside the breakfast room door. It was a breezy, spring day, and I could imagine how sweet the wind would feel kissing my cheeks. I almost wanted to move the party onto the patio but didn’t want to upset Nicole’s allergies. Her sneezing and snotting and my crying and snotting would make for a very bad day.

  “It’s pure torture. Wanting something you can’t have. Craving something, needing something and it not being there. I’m tired of begging. I want to not want it anymore. Just focus on my career, my friends, and chasing after God and let that be enough.”

  Angela and Vanessa nodded. Lisa shook her head like she couldn’t get with me on that.

  Nicole reached over and took my hand. “See? That wasn’t so bad. If that’s the worst, we can talk about anything now.”

  I smiled. “Yeah. Thanks, Nicki. You can be pretty all right when you want to be.”

  Everyone let out a collective sigh of relief, myself included. Maybe today could be a good day after all. Nicole squeezed my hand. As much as she could be evil and blunt, she was full of love—that ride-or-die chick a sista always wanted around, to have her back. I looked around the table and appreciated God for my friends. Maybe I didn’t have a man, but I had some beautiful, strong women in my life that loved me. For now, that would have to be enough.

  I looked out the window at the lake again. There was a long-necked duck with her babies trailing behind her on the water. “Look! Baby ducks.” I pointed and everyone turned to look out the window. “They’re so cute.”

  And with that, I burst into tears.

  Nicole dropped my hand and shook her head in disgust. “Crackhead . . .” she muttered as she disappeared into the kitchen.

  Vanessa passed me a napkin, and I wiped my eyes and blew my nose.

  “Oh, well, it was nice while it lasted.” Lisa got up and followed Nicole into the kitchen.

  They both came back a few moments later—Nicole carrying champagne and orange juice, Lisa carrying Vanessa’s crystal flutes.

  Nicole set the bottles down on the table. “I’m not sure how smart it is to mix alcohol, herbs, and hormones, but it can’t get much worse than crying over baby ducks.”

  Lisa cut her eyes at Nicole. “You were the one that wanted her to talk.”

  Nicole answered, “How was I supposed to know there would be ducks on the lake?”

  Lisa said, “All we had to do was—”

  “Ladies!” Vanessa interrupted. “Chill.” Vanessa opened the orange juice and began filling the flutes. “Honestly, I think Nicole had a good idea.”

  Nicole crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue at Lisa like she was five years old.

  “In fact . . .” Vanessa topped off the glasses with a small splash of champagne. None of us were drinkers, but we always had a drop or two of champagne when we celebrated. I guess it made us feel grown, even though we always ended up throwing away almost a full bottle of the expensive stuff. “. . . I think it’s a perfect idea for a birthday celebration. Instead of going to the spa, shopping, and eating cake, every woman’s birthday party should be a look at her life.”

  Nicole muttered, “Oh boy, here goes the latest Vanessa psychobabbleology. Just when I thought this party couldn’t get any worse.”

  Vanessa ignored her. “Yeah. That’s exactly what it should be.” Vanessa stared into space as she pushed the cork back into the champagne bottle.

  “What?” Nicole tapped her fingers on the table.

  “Shh, she’s thinking.” Lisa smacked Nicole’s arm.

  Vanessa handed each of us a mimosa glass and sat back down in her seat, the wheels in her brain ticking. “For a woman’s birthday celebration, she should be surrounded by her sister-circle in a safe, loving environment. She should look at her past and see where she made it and where she missed it. Look at her present and see where she is and where she wants to be, and look at her future and if she’s doing the right things to get there.” Vanessa nodded and smiled to herself. “Then her friends should celebrate her by telling her wonderful things about her, giving her affirmations, blessings and prayers to press her toward her future.”

  Angela and Lisa nodded.

  “I like it,” Lisa said. She turned to Nicole.

  Nicole shrugged. “Y’all know I don’t like all that touchy-feely psychobabble stuff.”

  Lisa rolled her eyes. “Lord, Nicole, can’t you get over yourself and help us celebrate Michelle’s birthday?”

  “I didn’t say I wouldn’t do it. I’m just saying.” She pursed her lips together and glared at Lisa.

  “Okay, then.” Vanessa glared at both of them like they were about to get a beating. “Since Michelle has identified what’s bothering her the most, let’s focus on that. If there are other areas you come up with, we’ll deal with that, too. We’ll break away for an hour or two and everybody take some paper and write something special for Michelle. Michelle—like I said, take an honest look at past, present, and future and whatever else you need to get out, and then we’ll reconvene. Pick your favorite spot—out by the lake, in the sunroom, by the fireplace, wherever you can get comfortable. Okay?”

  “But I don’t want to spoil whatever you guys already had planned for me just because I woke up hormonal and lonely,” I said.

  Nicole sucked her teeth. “Please, girl. We had planned to watch all your favorite movies. Love and Basketball, Love Jones, Brown Sugar .
. .” She looked around the room. “There’s not enough tissue in the house for that. Even though it’s warm and fuzzy, touchy-feely, this is way better than you snotting and crying all day over a bunch of movies. And we still have your surprise for tonight.” She looked at Vanessa with a nod of approval. “It’s actually a good idea.” She frowned. “Just don’t expect to be psychoanalyzing me for my birthday.”

  Vanessa laughed. “I wouldn’t dream of it. I don’t think my years of training or experience have in any way prepared me for that.”

  Nicole’s eyes widened with obvious surprise at Vanessa’s dig.

  Lisa laughed. “Good one, V.”

  “Whatever.” Nicole lifted her champagne flute and indicated for us all to do the same. “To Michelle and celebrating her life. The good, the bad, and the ugly.”

  “Nicole!” Lisa, Angela, and Vanessa said in unison.

  Nicole looked around at everyone and shrugged her shoulders. “What?” She lifted her glass again. “For real though, we love you, girl. I haven’t known God long, but what I do know is that He’s good. And faithful. And you’re a beautiful example of Him living and breathing on earth. And no matter what, man or no man, your future will be bright and beautiful. I’m looking forward to being a part of it.” She looked around the table. “Is that better?”

  Everybody laughed and lifted their glasses. “To Michelle.”

  And, of course, I burst into tears.

  two

  I got up from Vanessa’s hammock under the large elm tree by the lake and stretched. I almost got lost in the comfort of its padded cushions, the warm breeze, the sound of the water splashing against the rocks and the birds chirping. Thankfully, there had been no more baby duck sightings.

  I had managed to focus for an hour or so and had jotted notes in a journal Vanessa had given me. I was usually introspective and stayed in touch with my feelings, but I hadn’t taken a good look in the inner mirror for a while.

  I walked through the patio door into Vanessa’s bright sunroom and called out, “I’m ready.”

  Angela, Lisa, and Vanessa appeared one by one, each with notepaper in hand.

  “Where’s Nicole?” Lisa asked, frowning.

  “I think she went upstairs to the guest room.” Angela walked over to the staircase and yelled, “Nicole, it’s time.”

  After a few moments, Nicole emerged at the top of the steps, stretching, yawning and wiping her mouth. “I’m up. Here I come.”

  “You went to sleep?” Lisa voiced her obvious disgust.

  “Yeah.” Nicole descended the steps slowly like she was still tipsy with sleep and afraid that she might fall down the steep staircase.

  Lisa put her hands on her hips. “Nicole, we were supposed to be celebrating Michelle. You said you’d participate.”

  “I don’t need to sit around for an hour and think about one of my best friends to figure out how I feel about her.” Nicole waved away their disdain. “When it’s my turn, I’ll come off the dome and from the heart. Okay?”

  “Fine. Come on.” Vanessa led us all back to her spacious family room, to her comfy sectional sofa with sinkin pillows. She turned on the television and flipped to a smooth jazz station on DIRECTV. She lit a few scented candles and placed them on the mantle and on the large coffee table in the middle of the sectional.

  Nicole lay back against the couch, grabbed a pillow and a chenille throw and stretched out. After a minute, she leaned forward. “Humph, I better sit up. I worked about eighty hours this week.” Nicole’s career as an investment banker required long, exhausting hours, and she fell asleep if she sat still for too long.

  We all made ourselves comfortable on the couch, except for Nicole, who sat on the floor, leaning against the couch.

  “Ready, Michelle?” Vanessa asked.

  I nodded and opened the journal. I grabbed a handful of my thick, wavy afro and pulled my fingers through the kinks. Going natural after my divorce was one of the best things I’d ever done. I took a deep breath before launching into my introspection.

  “For the most part, I’m happy with my life. I love my job and feel like things are about to get even better. I can’t say I’m always proud of the shows we produce, but I feel like God is about to put me in a position where I have more of a say in what we put out there. It would be awesome to be in a position to make decisions about programming on BTV. I could really make a difference in Black America.” I had to stop before I got on my favorite soapbox. I would lose them if I started preaching on the evils of Black television.

  I switched subjects. “I love my church, and I love where my relationship with God is right now. I can finally say I’ve recovered from my divorce and God has brought complete financial restoration. It’s just the “man thing.” I try to be okay with being alone, but it’s not working. When I come home after a long day at work, I want someone there waiting for me. When work is frustrating or difficult, I want to call my man and hear him tell me it’s gonna be all right, and then give me a big, strong, manly hug when he sees me.”

  Lisa nodded. I knew she was feeling me because she had confided some of the same things to me before. Angela was listening intently, and I could tell Vanessa was already thinking of her response.

  I continued, “And I want babies. I can’t imagine leaving this earth without having children. I think about my nieces and my nephews and how they’re little versions of my sisters and brothers and I want that. Maybe that’s egotistical, but I do. I want to shape them and mold them into the image of God. And I know I do that through volunteering with the youth at church, but . . . I just want babies of my own, that call me Mommy instead of Auntie or Miss Michelle.”

  I gazed up at Vanessa’s wall with pictures of her two kids, Angel and Michael Jr., at various ages. Angel was an exact replica of Vanessa, and Mike looked like his dad.

  Vanessa followed my eyes to her kids and smiled with pride as she took in the images of them.

  “And I have so many visions and dreams for impacting the world and saving the lost, but I can’t imagine doing them on my own. I need my man, my protector, my covering to be there leading me. I know we have a pastor, but I want my own man, covering my own household.”

  I flopped back on the couch. “And let’s not even talk about sex. I’ve been celibate for three years and six months. That’s almost four years with no sex. That’s pure torture. Why would God create me with these overwhelming hormonal surges twice a month where I climb the walls and everything makes me think of having sex and then tell me I can’t have none? Why would a loving God do that to me?”

  Lisa laughed. “I feel you, girl. But God is faithful. It’s been nine years for me, and it gets better over time. Just trust Him. He’ll keep you.”

  “Nine years?” I looked at her like she was crazy. “I don’t want Him to . . . I ain’t trying to wait that long before I get some.” I looked up at the ceiling. “God, don’t even play. You know Your girl better than that.”

  Nicole and Angela fell out laughing.

  My voice softened a little. “Please, God, don’t make me wait six more years.” I sat there for a minute, totally perplexed at the prospect that it could be that long before I could have sex. “God, Your Word says You know how much we can bear. All I’m saying is . . . please, God. You know me better than that. Nine years? Your Word says You’ll supply my every need. God, I need—”

  Nicole laughed. “Wow, that’s a new one. Begging God for some sex.”

  Lisa sat silent. I hoped I hadn’t embarrassed her. I sat up and reached over to grab her hand. “I don’t mean no harm, Lisa, but, for real?”

  She nodded.

  “How?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. When the feeling comes, I try to read my Bible or pray or go work out or watch a movie or do whatever I need to distract me until the feeling goes away. I definitely don’t read, watch, or listen to anything that would get my juices stirring, so to speak. Over the years, the urge has decreased.”

  I looked at V
anessa. “I know how long it’s been for you. And you, Nicole, a little over two years, right?”

  She nodded.

  I looked at Angela, who had suddenly shrunken back into the couch. “How long has it been for you?”

  Angela looked down at her hands. She said something low and soft.

  “What?” the rest of us said.

  I suddenly wished I hadn’t asked her in front of everybody. Maybe she was caught up in fornication and didn’t want to be put on the spot.

  Angela looked up at us and spoke louder. “Never.”

  “What do you mean?” Lisa and I said together.

  Nicole sat there, wide-eyed.

  “Never. I’ve never had sex.” Angela looked down and rubbed her hands together.

  We all sat there quiet.

  Finally, Nicole let out a low whistle. “Whoa. I can’t even . . . I mean I know the Bible says . . . but . . . never?”

  Vanessa put an arm around Angela. “That’s something to be proud of.”

  “Please.” Angela rolled her eyes. “Who wants to be a forty-one-year-old virgin?”

  None of us answered.

  “Yeah. That’s what I thought.” Angela sat back and crossed her arms with a sullen look on her face. She was the newest to our group. Lisa had met her at the church we all attended about a year ago. She brought Angela for one of our weekly girls’-night outings and she’d been hanging with us ever since.

  Vanessa said, “I’m sure each of us—if we had gotten saved when we were young and never got married—would love to be a forty-one-year-old virgin.”

  Angela looked around at each of us. Lisa and I nodded, reluctantly.

  “Nine years and never. I need a drink.” Nicole got up and walked toward the kitchen.

  I looked at Angela as if seeing her for the first time. She wasn’t ugly or anything. Nice trim shape, shoulder-length bob, cute enough face. She was sorta shy and quiet, but certainly that didn’t disqualify her from being attractive to a man.

  I did have to admit, she was a brainiac that didn’t get out much. And I couldn’t really see her approaching a man. In fact, whenever she was with a bunch of people, she faded into the background. She was more vocal with us, but in large groups, I had seen her become completely invisible. But still . . . never?