My Soul Cries Out (12 page)

W
ell, of course I didn't talk to God. I knew He was big on that forgiveness stuff. If He told me to forgive Kevin, I would have to do it, and I wasn't trying to.

I felt like Kevin had died tragically. The love of my life, the person I wanted to grow old with, had been snatched from me prematurely, only I didn't get to have a funeral for closure, and his ghost kept haunting me with phone calls, emails, and visits with flowers. I guess it wasn't as bad as him getting killed in a car crash, because I could still see him and talk to him. Maybe it was worse because I could see him, but couldn't have him in my life like I wanted to.

Was I wrong for not forgiving Kevin? Was it God's will for us to stay together? Maybe I needed to forgive him, but that didn't mean we were supposed to get back together. I got tired of thinking about it, so I stopped and went about escaping again.

My empowerment plan fell apart. My power walking dwindled down to nothing. I stopped writing in my journal, stopped doing yoga, stopped going to the health food store, and next thing I knew, I was cozying up with Tom & Larry again. I knew it was bad when I started avoiding Alaysia's phone calls.

At work one day, Tammy knocked on the bathroom door. “Monica, are you in there?”

I splashed my eyes with cold water then patted them dry so no one could tell I had been crying. “Yeah, be out in a second.”

“You have an emergency phone call.”

My heart jumped. Did something happen to Mommy? I ran out to get the phone. Tammy and Miss Odessa moved away from the nurses' station.

“Hello?” I could barely breathe.

“What is wrong with you? You don't answer my emails. You won't return my calls. What's going on?”

“Alaysia?”

“Who else do you think it is?”

“You scared me to death. Why'd you say it was an emergency?”

“'Cause
you
scared
me
to death. I dreamed you drowned in a vat of Tom & Larry's ice cream.”

“Forget you, wench.”

“Couldn't if you tried. What's the problem, Monnie?”

I lowered my voice. “I can't talk about it at work, Laysia.”

“I can't get you at home.”

“I'll call you tonight.”

“You better.”

“I will. I promise.”

“If you don't, I'm on a plane tomorrow morning.”

“I will. Gotta go.”

“Don't make me come up there.”

I laughed. “I promise. I'll call tonight.”

 

 

Later that evening, Alaysia was quiet while I explained my recent encounter with Kevin over the phone. I was sprawled out on the couch in the dark family room, hoping my throbbing headache would ease up some.

“I don't know what to say. Sounds like he's really sorry, Monnie. I know how much you love Kevin, and sounds like he loves you. He made a mistake. You sure you don't want to try to work things out?”

I hung up.

She called right back. “I take that as a no.”

I hung up again.

She called right back. “Okay, I get it.”

“You're supposed to be on my side.”

“I am. I want what's best for you. Maybe you should just think about—”

I hung up.

She called back. “Okay, Monnie, okay.”

We sat in silence. The heater kicked on at a low hum. It was particularly chilly for February this year. I lay back on the couch.

Alaysia said, “Soooooooo, was my Tom & Larry's dream true?”

I didn't say anything.

“Hello?”

“I'm here. Did you call to harass me?”

“I'm not harassing you. I'm checking on you. That's what friends are for. To check on each other. Make sure everything's okay. Keep each other from gaining fifty pounds.”

“In other words, you called to harass me.”

“Harass is such a vile word. I'd prefer you not use it.”

“Whatever, Laysia.”

“Sooooooooo—”

“If you ‘soooooo' me one more time, I'm hanging up this phone and I won't pick it up when you call me back.”

“Wanna come to Atlanta?”

“For what? I still have to come back here. It's not gonna go away until I do something about it.” I spread the blanket at the foot of the couch over my feet.

“I know. But maybe you need a break.”

“I can't afford to do that right now. I need to save everything I have. I don't know what my lawyer bills might be.”

“Ouch. Don't insult me. I didn't ask you to pay.”

“I can't always let you pay for everything—”

Click
. Wench hung up on me. I dialed her number.

“Stop playing, Laysia. I'm a grown woman. I can't be living off my—”

Click.
I dialed her again.

“Laysia. Quit hanging up the daggone phone. I'm trying to tell you something.”

“I'm not trying to hear it. We've been over this a million times.”

“Fine. I can't come anytime soon, though. I just took a week off, remember?”

“Why don't you quit that slave labor and move to Atlanta? You'll love it here. You can get away from everything. Start over. You can help me with the financial part of my business. You know I'm no good at that stuff. I'm probably spending everything I'm making. Then you won't have this pride problem. You'll be working.”

“Always got a plan, don't ya?”

“Pretty darn good one, if I do say so myself.”

“I can't. Running away is not the answer. I have to face my issues, not escape them.”

“Say that next time you hear Tom & Larry talking to you.”

“Forget you, Laysia.”

“Couldn't if you tried. And you did try, remember?”

“Ha, ha, ha.”

“Don't go ghost on me again. Call a sista. Let her know how you're doing.”

“I will. Thanks, girl.”

“Forever and always. I mean it. Don't make me come up there.”

“I'll call you in a week.”

“You better.”

“ Bye. ”

I
faded into autopilot mode again. A week turned into a month and a month into three months, and next thing I knew, it was May. My exercise clothes piled up in a heap in the corner. My tennis shoes taunted me every morning as I stepped over them. I couldn't bring myself to put them away. That would be to admit defeat and resign myself to being a fat slug.

One morning, I decided to get on the scale for a reality check. I stepped on with my eyes closed. Coulda swore the scale groaned. I opened my eyes. “OH MY GAAAWWWD.” I kicked it, then jumped around the bathroom, holding my toe. “You filthy liar.”

That was the problem with wearing scrubs to work every day. You couldn't tell if your clothes fit different. Okay, maybe the tie strings had gotten a little shorter. Okay, maybe my bras were getting too snug. Okay, maybe my underwear was cutting off the circulation in my thighs.

I went down to the kitchen and slung open the freezer. I yelled at a carton of Chocolate Brownie Walnut Crunch. “I thought you were my friends. Look what you did to me.” Tom & Larry smiled at me from their perch on the carton. I could swear I heard them laughing.

“Bastards.” I threw the pint in the trash. I pretended not to see the one on the top shelf. I knew Tom, Larry and I would make up later. I never stayed mad at them for long.

I didn't feel well when I got to work. I thought it was the tirade I went on that morning, but when the dizziness lasted into the lunch hour, I had to take a rest. I sneaked into one of the exam rooms and shut the door.

A few minutes later, Miss Odessa popped her head in the door. “You all right, baby? You been looking a little peaked this morning.”

“Just feeling a little dizzy, Miss Odessa.”

She hobbled over to me. Her bad knee must have been acting up. “You gettin' enough rest?”

“Yes, ma'am.” Too much. All I did was sleep.

“You gettin' enough to eat?”

“Yes, ma'am.” Too much. All I did was eat.

“You ain't pregnant, is you?”

“No, ma'am.” Why did she have to go there?

“You sure? You never know these things.”

“Yes, ma'am. I'm sure. I just had my cycle.”

“That don't mean nothing. I 'member my cousin Greta had her cycle throughout all four of her pregnancies. We better check a test.”

“I'm sure, Miss Odessa. I already checked one.” Why she make me lie?

“Let me check your pressure.”

“I've been under a little stress lately. I'm sure that's what it is.”

“You done put on a little weight, and you know that can shoot your pressure up. You sure that pregnancy test was negative? Your hips done spread and your chest is bigger.”

Miss Odessa was too sweet to cuss out, but she was taking me there. Maybe if I let her check my blood pressure, she would leave me alone.

She took the stethoscope out of her ears. “See, I told you. It's 160/100.”

“It's just my nerves. Let me sit here for a few minutes and you can check it again.”

The paper on the exam table rustled as I lay back. I did some deep breathing exercises and let her check it again. Even after I relaxed, my blood pressure was still 150/98—definitely high. I remembered it was elevated when I had my STD tests.

“Let me check your sugar.”

Dr. Stewart walked in just as Miss Odessa pricked my finger. “What's wrong?”

“Monica wasn't feeling well. Her pressure is high, and I bet she got sugar, too. You know she been emptying the water cooler and living in the bathroom lately.” Miss Odessa dabbed a drop of my blood on the glucose stick.

I frowned. Was that true? Come to think of it, I had been thirsty lately. I thought it was because it was getting hot outside.

The glucometer beeped.

“See, I told you. It's 182. Her sugar is high.”

Dr. Stewart asked, “Did you eat breakfast this morning?”

I shook my head. I was too mad at the scale.

Dr. Stewart looked down at the reading, then looked up at me. “That's high for a fasting blood sugar. I know diabetes runs in your family. I've noticed you've put on a few pounds.”

Did everybody notice my butt spreading but me?

My head was spinning. I didn't know if it was from my blood pressure or all the news. I really had gotten the Calvin curse.

Dr. Stewart insisted on doing a physical and labs on me. I could barely think. With my genes, I knew I'd end up with hypertension and diabetes. I just thought I'd be much older.

“Monica, you're going to have to make some serious lifestyle changes to avoid going on medication.” Dr. Stewart said. “I'm going to send you to a dietician to put together a nutrition program for you, and you're going to need to start an exercise program. You'll have to get a glucometer and start monitoring your sugars. We'll see if we need to start you on some Glucophage.”

Glucophage? My mother was on that diabetic medicine. No way in the world.

“I think if you're aggressive, you can stave this off for some years. But you have to get serious. You were losing weight there for a minute. What happened?” Dr. Stewart asked.

I opened my mouth to answer, but what could I tell her? My husband is gay and I caught him cheating on me? My pastor only cares about how this will affect his church and offering plate? My best friend is in the bush in Africa and I can't get in touch with her? My mom thinks I should stay with Kevin and have a messed up marriage like hers? Kevin broke my heart begging me not to divorce him?

I started crying instead.

“I know this is a lot at once. Why don't you go home and get some rest and we'll set you up with the dietician tomorrow.” Dr. Stewart patted my shoulder then left the room so I could get dressed.

I nodded and got my stuff to go.

I could barely see the road as I drove home. How did I let this happen? I saw Tom & Larry's smiling faces in my head.

Bastards.

W
hen I got home, first thing I did was call Alaysia. When her voice mail came on, I started crying and left a garbled message.

I went through the kitchen, crying and throwing away all the bad food. I couldn't blame God for this one. This was my fault. The trash can was full, but I felt no remorse. The poor, starving children in Africa didn't need high blood pressure or diabetes.

As I finished, the phone rang. I ignored it as usual. The answering machine clicked on, “Monnie, it's me, calling you back—”

I grabbed the phone. “Laysia, I'm here.”

“What's wrong?”

“I don't want to hear ‘I told you so'.”

“Never.”

I sat down at the breakfast table and told her about my doctor visit.

“Monnie, Monnie, Monnie. Okay, now it's serious. I'm not asking you this time. You're coming to Atlanta and we're going to get your health back together.”

“I can't drop everything and pick up and move.”

“Why not? Look, if you want to end up like your mom, your grandma, and your aunts, go right ahead. Naw. I ain't having it. I'll be there to get you tomorrow.”

“Laysia.”

“That wasn't a question. Check your email for my flight information tonight.”
Click.

I dialed her again. “Can we talk about this?”

“I'm listening.”

“I can't just leave. I have a house here. I have a job. I have bills. I have a husband I need to divorce. I can't just fly into a fairytale life like yours.”

“Fairytale life?”

“I didn't mean it like that. I'm just saying, I don't have a rich father I can lean on.”

“I'm not living off my father anymore. I have my own business now. I support myself. I told you I need some help putting the financial part of my business together. I'm not asking you to live off me. I'm offering you a real job in a legitimate business while you focus on getting your life and your health together.” Alaysia sucked her teeth. “Fairytale life. You 'bout to make me mad, Monnie.”

“Sorry. You know I didn't mean it like that. My brain isn't working too good right now. It's the sugar and the pressure.”

“A'ight. I'ma forgive you because of the pressure and the sugar, but don't come at me like that no more.”

“Sorry, Laysia.” I was crying again. “I didn't mean it.”

“You gonna have to stop all that durn crying, too. It's starting to work my nerves.”

I giggled and sniffled. I got up to get a napkin to blow my nose.

“I'm still coming up there. We can go over a diet plan and I'll put together an exercise regimen. You can let Dr. Stewart know you're leaving, hire somebody new and train them. Put your house on the market. Get your divorce. Do what you gotta do. I'm giving you three months.”

“Why do I have to move?”

“Why not? What do you have there?”

“I—I . . .”

“I'm listening. What do you have in D.C. that's so great you can't leave? You've been in that area all your life. You've never done anything different or new. If you can give me one reason why you shouldn't move, I'll leave you alone.”

I couldn't.

“Fine, three months it is. I'll be up there next weekend to go over your new health plan. I need to meet with my tenant anyway. I'm thinking about selling our old condo for some cash to build my business more.”

“You're serious about this business thing, huh?”

“I know you think I'm a joke, but I really have found something I'm passionate about. I know I said I'd never work, but it's not work if it's something you love. I'll be there next Friday morning. Can you get off?”

“Might as well. I'll be giving my notice soon, right?”

“Now you're talking.”

“I'll have the guest room ready.”

“Nah, I'll get reservations at the Capital Hilton. We can do the spa thing again.”

“All right. Let me know what time to pick you up from the airport.”

After we hung up, I went into the living room and plopped down on the couch.

The phone rang again. “What now, Alaysia?” The line was staticky for a minute. “Hello, is anyone there?”

“Monica?”

I squealed. “Trina, oh my goodness, I can't believe it's you.”

“Monnie, I miss you so much. I can't talk long, but I just had to hear your voice. Are you okay? What's going on there?”

“Girl, forget me. You're in Africa. Tell me all about it.”

“I don't even know where to start.” Trina talked a mile a minute about everything she had experienced since she left. I could picture her face glowing and her hands moving animatedly. I wanted to tell her to stop and breathe.

I could almost picture the village where she was living—the poverty, the begging children, the scarce living conditions. She also painted a picture of a strong, intertwined community of beautiful African people. She sounded excited about the school they were building and the numbers of people who had not only gotten saved, but were learning about the Bible and prayer. I was almost jealous. It made moving to Atlanta and starting all over sound even better.

“Enough about me. I could talk all day. What's going on with you? I pray for you every day. Are you, you know, doing okay?”

What could I tell her? She sounded happy and I didn't want to spoil it by telling her about my encounters with Kevin, the divorce, my health problems. I decided to keep things positive and told her about Jamaica, hooking up with Alaysia again, and my focusing on exercise and taking care of myself. I tried to make it sound like I wasn't alone, depressed, diabetic and hypertensive. I wasn't confident in my ability to fool Trina. She knew me too well. My only hope was to distract her.

“I think I'm moving to Atlanta.” The line crackled for a second. “Trina?”

“I'm here. Gee. That's big news. Are you sure?”

Once again I tried to paint a great picture, telling her about Alaysia's business and how the change would do me good and I'd be in a place to focus on myself more.

“That all sounds good. I guess I'm being selfish. I can't imagine you not being there when I get back.”

“Who knows, girl. I might be back by then. I just need to get away for now.”

“Just make sure you pray about it, Monica. Make sure you hear from God, and if it's Him, then go for it. I'm behind you one hundred percent. Just make sure you're being led by Him rather than your circumstances.”

She didn't have to say that twice. We said our goodbyes and made plans for our next phone call.

I stretched out on the couch and stared up at the ceiling.