“Geraldine Woodard,” a radiation therapist called out as she walked into the reception area. A woman stood and walked toward her. “How are you doing today,” the therapist asked and they began to walk back toward the treatment area when the door to the office suddenly opened. The woman who had just gone out came wobbling back in with soiled pants. She left an unpleasant odor behind as she proceeded to the restroom.
Vivian and Jennifer got a whiff of the awful smell and quickly glanced at each other. The receptionist realizing what had happened reached for the deodorizer to spray after the patient went into the bathroom and closed the door. Sabrina and the other workers in the office knew that radiation treatments for certain patients could result in them losing control of their bladder and bowels. It was also why some doctors recommended patients didn’t eat after a certain hour the day before treatment; so that their body would have time to eliminate waste.
Jennifer reached for the magazine she had tossed back on the table and opening it brought it close to her face. She then mumbled, “So, do you still want to come here with me.”
Vivian looked as if she was afraid to open her mouth for fear she would take in more of the smell.
Jennifer not getting a response glanced over at Vivian. She was then tickled inside at Vivian whose mouth was bloated with air. Though Jennifer wanted to laugh, she also knew what happened to the woman could very well be her situation after treatment.
After the smell started to dissipate Vivian mocking Jennifer reached for a magazine and mumbled back, “I don’t think a little poop will keep me away. But when you go for your treatment you will find me in the car when it’s over.”
A chuckle from Jennifer blew through the magazine. She then hoped whoever heard her didn’t think she was making fun of the woman who had the accident.
“Jennifer Washington,” another radiation therapist called out.
Jennifer rose and headed toward the therapist. Shortly after, Vivian rose and headed for the door.
About thirty minutes later Jennifer got slowly into the car.
“How do you feel?” Vivian asked.
How Jennifer felt was apparent as she sat speechless and with an unsettled stomach. The positive spirit she felt less than an hour ago had been chased away with radiation. Though Jennifer knew she needed it she skipped going for her treatment the next day because she was too weak to get out of bed.
***
Vivian was sitting in her office with the door closed. Nagging at her was how after breakfast the last two days her food didn’t want to stay down. She had blamed the upset stomach yesterday on the eggs she used in an omelet. It was the only food item in the refrigerator that the expiration date had exceeded. The milk, butter, cheese and bacon were still good. Now as she sat in her office the corn beef sandwich she was having for lunch was making her feel nauseous after just a couple bites.
“Is this spoiled too,” her nose turned slightly up at the sandwich. She laid the sandwich down on the wrapping paper and began to ball the sandwich up when she suddenly threw up on it.
Patricia was about to tap on her door to alert Vivian that the city inspector was there when she heard her boss throwing up.
“Ms. Fowler, are you okay?” she asked through the closed door.
Vivian didn’t answer. She quickly stood planting her hands on her desk to stable the urge to vomit again and to avoid getting any on her black pantsuit.
Patricia knocked again and then opened the door.
“Ms. Fowler,” she said moving fast over to her boss. “Are you okay?” She reached and pulled tissues from a box and handed them to her.
Vivian took the Kleenex and wiped her mouth of the foul taste. Patricia not knowing what to do just looked at her boss and then glanced at the vomit on the desk. Though it was mostly water that she threw up the odor was commanding.
Vivian blamed her throwing up on the food she was eating. “This sandwich is spoiled?” and she reached for more Kleenex wiping her mouth again.
Patricia had a quick intake of breath. “Is it? I wonder why I didn’t get sick. I had Regina bring me a corn beef sandwich back, too.”
Vivian looked over at Patricia a moment. “You don’t feel ill?” she asked.
“Uh umm...I don’t think it bothered Regina either. I gave her half my sandwich.”
Vivian quickly revisited the last two days and how she became ill after eating breakfast.
Patricia taking notice of her boss reminiscing drew back some and not caring if she was out of line said, “Ms. Fowler, you don’t think you’re pregnant do you?”
Vivian’s eyes lifted at the possibility. “Oh god...” she exclaimed and quickly exited her office and off to the bathroom. She leaned over a toilet inside a stall and vomited again. “Shit...shit...shit,” she mumbled.
Patricia feeling her boss may be pregnant had a smirk on her face. She then looked at the balled up sandwich covered with fluid. “I hope she don’t think I’m going to clean that up,” she uttered. “What in the world is she going to do with a baby? She’s got to be close to forty?”
Still a little tickled, she left Vivian’s office closing the door behind her.
Two weeks later Vivian was sitting on the exam table in a baby blue colored gown, sobbing. Dr. Winfrey had just delivered the news Vivian feared. She was so traumatized by it that Dr. Winfrey asked twice if she was going to be okay.
Dr. Winfrey knew when she informed some patients that they were pregnant it left them a bit distraught. There was something unusual in the way Vivian had taken the information. If her eyes could have they would have popped out her face the way she sat staring down at the floor.
“Ms. Fowler, I’m concerned with your state of mine. Are you okay?” and Dr. Winfrey placed her hand gently on Vivian’s back to comfort her.
Vivian burst tears into her hands, moving her head from side to side that she wasn’t okay.
“I take it that this wasn’t a planned pregnancy. You weren’t attack were you?” Dr. Winfrey asked.
Vivian tried to collect herself. “How could this happen?” she bawled. “It seems impossible.”
“Ms. Winters, though it’s rare, Tubal ligation can occur. Some women fallopian tubes are able to grow back together, allowing pregnancy to take place.”
Dr. Winfrey then handed Vivian some tissue from a box on a table and really concerned said, “Ms. Fowler is there someone we can contact for you. The news seems to have really disturbed you.”
Vivian sniffled. “I’ll be fine, Dr. Winfrey. I’m just shocked.”
Dr. Winfrey didn’t know what else to say and began noting Vivian’s reaction in her records.
Vivian collected herself again then softly said, “Dr. Winfrey, the guy I was seeing was born a hermaphrodite. What are the chances my child will be born the same?”
Dr. Winfrey obviously surprised paused a second from writing. “Oh,” she said, and then allowed herself to process the information before responding. This was the first time one of her patients asked this question in her twenty three years as a gynecologist. “I will have to do some research on that. Though, I would think that there is no definite answer. I will definitely get back to you on that.”
“Thank you,” Vivian said.
“I’m going to leave you, I do have other patients. Are you going to be okay?” Dr. Winfrey asked again and giving Vivian soft rubs to her back.
Vivian nods. “Yes, I’ll be fine. I’m just shocked that I was able to get pregnant.”
“I understand,” and Dr. Winfrey left Vivian alone.
A few minutes had passed and after a tap to the door by Dr. Winfrey’s assistant, she stated, “I’m sorry, but we need to set this room up for our next patient.”
Vivian uttered something and moved from the table. She began putting back on her pink jogging suit then gathered her things.
“I can’t keep it,” she told herself and pulled tissues from the box on the exam table to muffle her cries. She then wiped away traces of tears from
her face. She walked out of the exam room with her head up.
***
Jennifer was standing at her mailbox and saw Vivian pulling into her driveway. She didn’t think to change from or cover the rose-colored pajamas she was wearing. She also had a red scarf wrapped around her head. She had not long ago come from her doctor’s office and had gone back out for the mail. Jennifer gave a weak wave then closed the lid to the empty mailbox. She then leisurely walked over the lawn to Vivian’s, who had kept the garage door raised. She was sure Jennifer was going to come over.
“Hey, girl,” a lethargic Jennifer said watching where she stepped in her white plush house shoes.
“Hey,” Vivian said turning her head to look at her friend. “Are you okay? I’ve never seen you outside in those house shoes. You usually have on an old tacky pair.”
“I’m not thinking about what’s on my feet or my head now that I’m losing my hair. Girl, just about all my hair has fallen out.”
Vivian pushed a button on the wall to close the garage door.
“You’ll get it back,” she said and went inside the house. “You’ll probably grow more than you had,” she added and disengaged the house alarm.
“Stupid, stupid, real stupid,” Vernon said with a toothpick between his thick lips. He was standing between two homes across the street. Ten minutes ago, and bold as he is, he had walked to the front door of Vivian’s home and rung the doorbell. He had done so despite having an order of protection against him. Vernon had called Vivian’s salon earlier posing as a stylist looking to rent a booth. He wanted to see if she was at her shop and if so, was going to attempt another break-in. It was spoiled when Jennifer exited her house for the mail and now was totally out of the question after seeing Vivian drive up.
“Didn’t your mother teach you to lock the door after you leave the house,” Vernon said at the new opportunity that was now present. He popped the collar of the white dress shirt he was wearing with a gray silk tie. He also had on a black suit and a new pair of sneakers. Like last time and an unsuspecting visit to his sister’s house he was dressed to impress. The only difference this time was he had a brown briefcase. It was his defense in case someone living in the home he was hiding beside exited. He would pretend to be an insurance salesman while trying to hide his face. Vernon reached into his left jacket pocket and removed a pair of black gloves which he slid his hands into. “I guess your house is just as good as hers...it’s supposed to be my house,” he mumbled and picked up the briefcase and then cautiously moved from between the houses and across the street to Jennifer’s.
Vernon having seen Jennifer when she came out for her mail was sure she hadn’t locked the door behind her. He also figured no one else was home because he saw Charles dropped Jennifer off, then immediately drove off again. He grabbed the knob, turned and entered her home as if it was still his and his mothers; and walked right in. Vernon nodded. “Nice,” he expressed to the beautiful looking living room. “I see you living large, too,” and he sat the briefcase down by the door. “What was I thinking? I should have gone and rented a U-haul? That’s okay. I have a better plan,” and he strolled over running his forefinger under the sixty-four inch flat screen television on the wall. “Man, I can get some serious dollars for this.”
Vernon loosened his tie as he headed to the kitchen. He grinned. “All snaps...how did you know it was my birthday?” and he removed the glass lid to a triple layer chocolate and mousse cake Jennifer made yesterday. She didn’t have much of an appetite for solid foods after a treatment, though it did leave her with a craving for sweets. Only a slice had been cut from it when Vernon removed one of the gloves he was wearing and plowed into the cake with his hand. Bits of cake and mousse fell to the marbled floor as he consumed it, licking his fingers. All the while his eyes taking note of the appliances on the counter.
“Man this cake is good. Still a brother will need something to wash it down,” and with his cakey hand opened the refrigerator and grabbed a pitcher full of red liquid. He gulped some down. “Kool-Aid,” he expressed and spit it out like it was bad coffee. Vernon wiped his mouth using his arm and staining his white shirt. “What grown ass person still drinks this shit.” The Kool-Aid he spit out landed on the floor and across one of the kitchen chairs.
Vernon sat the pitcher of Kool-Aid in the sink. Then with two fingers swiped some mousse from the top of the cake and smeared the pitcher where he had drunk from. He swiped the cake again and covered his fingerprints left on the handle of the pitcher. He puts the glove back on with cake between his fingers and then moved over to the refrigerator. He opened it and ducked his head inside. Vernon popped the lid off a plastic square microwavable container. “A meat lover...that’s what I’m talking about. Well I hope you had enough because I’m about to destroy these pork chops.”
Vernon removed the container sitting it in the microwave. He set it for three minutes and walked away flattening the remnants of cake and mousse that fell to the floor. He then began to roam Jennifer’s house as if he was certain he wouldn’t get caught. It was as if he had Jennifer’s and Vivian’s visits to each other’s house timed.
In any case, he strolled into the master bedroom. “Man, a brother can turn some tricks in this bed,” he said smiling and looking at the king size bed that was adorned with an off white spread and four fluffy pillows. Before touching anything, Vernon walked over to the window and looked out. He glanced at the few houses in sight across the street and down at his sister’s empty driveway. He then focused his attention back on the elderly man wearing blue farmer’s pants going into a house he had hid between.
When he felt content to carry on with his prowling he turned from the window and then walked over to the dresser where one of Jennifer’s purses was. It was one of two satchels that were in plain sight. The other was on a sofa sleeper and more of an everyday bag. Vernon grabbed the satchel and dumped its contents onto the dresser. A tube of lipstick rolled out and onto the carpeted floor. “It’s got to be more than this around here,” stashing two twenty dollar bills into his front pocket. He then began to toss all but three credit cards over his shoulders from her wallet. “Oh yeah my baby is going to love me for this. Traci you are about to have a field day. Your man said he gone take care of you, then that’s what he going to do,” Vernon uttered, and stashed the credit cards into his back pocket.
Vernon heard the microwave sound and moved over and grabbed the cloth bag from the sofa sleeper. He took it with him to the kitchen where he emptied the contents onto the kitchen table then went for the food in the microwave. Once he sat the plastic container on the table he picked up one of the smothered pork chops and took a huge bite out of it. He didn’t care that it was hot; he kept chewing and observed the papers and pamphlets that he dumped from the bag.
“All snaps baby girl must have cancer.” He moved his head from side to side and then picked up some rice and vegetables that was also in the container with his gloved fingers. He tilted his head back to take in the food and then moved the pamphlets aside seeking something of value. “Y’all broke,” he said after not finding any money. “What your man do for a living,” and Vernon picked up the other pork chop and finished it to the bone. “I feel sorry for old boy if she’s sick because this broad can cook. Let me go take a dump and get out of here,” Vernon said, tossing the bone onto the plate. “Oops,” he mumbled and turned for the bone. He picked it up, put it in his jacket pocket and then headed for the bathroom.
***
“You want something to eat Jennifer? I’m starved,” Vivian said and she moved over to the sink from near the refrigerator to wash her hands. She had decided on her way home she would give herself time to think logically about aborting and telling Jennifer of her possible intention.
Jennifer took a seat at the kitchen table while Vivian went for leftovers in the refrigerator.
“So when do you plan on telling me?” Jennifer said and then coughed. She was actually feeling a bit lightheaded. Outside of losing h
air and being fatigued, queasiness was another side effect she would experience from her treatments.
“Girl what are you talking about?” Vivian removed a pot from the top shelf in the refrigerator. “It may be a couple days old, but I’m going to eat it anyway,” and she went for a microwavable plate after setting the pot on the counter.
“You know what I’m talking about. You can’t be but two, two in a half months top,” Jennifer said, watching her friend carefully. She recorded the pause when Vivian opened the cupboard for a plate.
“Exactly two months,” Vivian confessed and removed the plate. She set it on the counter and then turned, leaned back against it. “What am I going to do? I’m afraid, Jennifer. Too, I miss him,” she said, her eyes cast desolately toward the floor. “I don’t understand what’s going on. How can you feel deep about a person you barely know? I’ve been hiding my feelings. And what if my child is born the same way?”
“Hold up, slow down. You’ve made three, four statements. Let’s take one at a time. First, that’s nothing but love you feel for Toni and there’s nothing wrong with that. I told you that. There isn’t any time limit on how soon a person should care deeply about someone. He may feel the same way. Secondly, there’s no proof that your child will be born a hermaphrodite. Even if it is, I’m sure you’re going to love your child, just as you love Toni.”
“I don’t think I’m going to keep it Jen,” Vivian informed her.
“Why wouldn’t you when you’ve always wanted kids.”
“I still do. I didn’t want any out of wedlock.”
Jennifer then placed her hand to her mouth looking as if she was about to barf.
“Are you okay Jennifer,” Vivian said and now concerned about her friend.
Jennifer waited for her stomach to settle. “Yeah” and she blew out a gush of air. “If I can get through these next four weeks I think I’ll be fine.”
Vivian turned to the stove to put some spaghetti from the pot onto her plate.
“I’m just shocked,” she said. “Even after vomiting a few times, it didn’t cross my mind that I could be pregnant. It wasn’t until my assistant saw that I had thrown up and asked me if I might be.”
Trickery & Envy Page 11