Never Again, No More 2

by Untamed

  In fact, we were bettering ourselves as a family unit. With the help of Pastor Gaines, my mother, sister, and I formed a tight bond, and I had to say my mama was doing her damn thing. Well, both of us actually. We’d both taken the GED test, so not only did Misha get her high school diploma, my mom and I got our GEDs too.

  Pastor Gaines’s counseling had begun to transform our mom into the mother we’d always wanted as well as the mother we needed. We went to church together, we ate dinner together, and we prayed together. We did everything together. Pastor Gaines even helped my mother land a job as the manager for this consignment shop, which she loved, while Misha was set to start Piedmont Tech in the fall. She took a page out of Lucinda’s book and wanted to be a medical coder, but I thought she was more hooked on the bank that Lucinda was making than the job. Using a scholarship from the church and a grant, I enrolled in college to start my nursing program, and I was overjoyed about it. Despite my situation, not everything was all bad in my life.

  I still hadn’t heard from or seen Tony since that fateful night, and I was happy about that. Word on the street was that he was bouncing from crackhouse to crackhouse straight zooted up. He was so far gone at this point, I doubted he even remembered me or his kids. The sad part was I wanted him to forget he ever knew me, and maybe somehow the hurt, anguish, and yes, even love I still had in my heart for him would somehow disappear. I found it completely crazy that after all he’d put me through—the verbal, mental, and physical abuse—and possibly giving me a potentially deadly disease, I still loved him. I guessed if you truly loved someone, you never really stopped. That’s not to say that I would ever take him back—that was a guaranteed hell no—it just meant that one day I hoped he was able to get his life together before it was too late for him. Regardless of our differences, he had two sons who needed a man in their lives.

  Pastor Gaines was a perfect example. I admired him and looked up to him as a father figure for myself, but little boys need their daddies just as much as they need their mommies. I did a great job as a mother, but I couldn’t train my sons to be men. A real man could teach their sons how to be men, and that’s real talk. There was just some shit about men that I would never get, and if I didn’t get it, then on some level, my sons would not get me. That’s why they needed Tony, and if Tony could get clean just long enough to see that truth, I bet he’d realize he needed them just as much.

  That was, if he lived to raise them. I wasn’t just speaking about the risks of his drug abuse. I was talking about if I didn’t kill him myself if these results came up positive.

  “Are you nervous?” my mom asked me.

  “Did I not throw up twice before we left?”

  She gripped my hand. “Don’t be nervous. God will sustain you.”

  “So says the woman whose HIV test came up negative.” I rolled my eyes at her.

  “LaMeka, how can you be a positive force on your sister, who already has this disease, if you can’t even be positive for yourself? There is a fifty percent chance that you could walk out of here free and clear, and instead of you holding on to that, you’re acting as if you’ve already been condemned to die. I understand you’re frustrated and anxious, but please try to remember those who no longer have that glimmer of hope, like your sister,” she huffed as we sat there waiting for the results.

  She was right. Here I was throwing my own pity party, and my sister—God bless her soul—was already living with it. She absolutely amazed me. You’d think she’d give up hope and be miserable, but she hadn’t. She was so happy about the positive changes in my life and in our mom’s life that it kept her going. She even volunteered to do advocate work for local groups about HIV/AIDS awareness. I was proud of her. I was proud of my mom. Hell, I was proud of me. So regardless of what I heard today, good or bad, I was going to walk out of here with my head held high and live my life. My life was not going to end just because of my circumstances. I made up my mind that from that moment on, if I had it, HIV would be living with me and not me with it. Point blank period.

  “Are you ready for your results, LaMeka? They are conclusive,” the doctor said as she entered the room and broke my train of thought.

  I looked at my mom, clasped her hand, and nodded. “Yes.”

  She opened the report and scanned over it. “Ms. LaMeka, you are negative,” she announced.

  A gasp of relief belted out from me as my mother yelled out in joy and hugged me tight. Tears of joy slid down my face. “Are you sure? I’m negative?”

  The doctor smiled at me and nodded. “Yes, I’m sure. You do not have HIV,” she repeated gladly.

  I didn’t know what else she was trying to tell me, because I fell straight to my knees and began praising God as if I were in Sunday morning worship service. My mom joined in right along with me as we just thanked and praised Him. I wasn’t sure if the doctor thought we were crazy, but she just let us continue to get our worship on. She didn’t have a choice, because I was just like old shoutin’ John at this point. Hold my mule! I had too much to be thankful for to not recognize Him for His blessing. I literally danced on death’s doorstep, so for this, He was more than worthy to be praised. Once I finished, she gave us some tissues and finished discussing preventive measures. She gave me a copy of my results and sent us on our way. No sooner than we got in the car, Misha called me.

  “What was the result?” she asked as soon as I answered.

  “Negative.”

  She hollered with joy. “Thank you, Jesus!” she yelled. “I knew you were okay. I just knew it!”

  “How are my boys?” I asked, immediately thinking of them.

  “They are fine. LaMichael just lay down for his nap, and Tony Jr. is watching cartoons in here with me.”

  “Good. I just want to come home and be right up under my boys, you, and Mom,” I said as my mom looked over at me and smiled.

  “Yeah, we have to celebrate. Oh, and you got some mail that looks really important. I think it’s from the State of Georgia,” Misha said.

  “What in the world could that be?”

  “I’m not sure,” Misha answered.

  “Oh well, I’ll see when we get there. We’ll be there in like ten minutes.”

  My mom and I talked all the way to the house about what we wanted to do to celebrate. When I got there, I immediately hugged Tony Jr. and Misha. We all sat there laughing and talking until I remembered the mail. Misha handed me an envelope from the Social Security Administration, and I nearly fell off the sofa when I read it.

  “What is it?” my mom asked me.

  “Yeah, Meka, what’s wrong?” Misha asked with a worried expression on her face.

  I looked up with joy in my heart. “Not a damn thing.”

  I turned the paper around so they could see the source of my happiness. The state had revisited Tony Jr.’s autism case and had awarded him another lump sum disability payment. I wasn’t rich by any means, but this money meant three surefire things for me. One—Pooch was getting paid in full immediately. Two—I was taking a page out of Charice’s book and investing. Without Tony pulling me down, I would make this money work for me so that by the time I moved out of the transitional house, I could pay cash for my own house for my boys, my mom, my sister, and me to live in. Three—having this money and investing it meant guaranteed health coverage for Tony Jr. and Misha.

  Misha and my mom jumped up and down and celebrated, and I just relished their joy. Never again, no more did I have to worry about my family’s well-being. For once, everything was all right. Everything was all right.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Charice

  Since Ryan’s departure, I rotated my time away from the hospital with my mom and Ryan’s mom so that I could spend some time with my boys. I realized through this ordeal that I’d kind of abandoned them, and I didn’t want them to think I loved them any less because of Charity’s condition. However, I’d underestimated my boys, because they truly understood. Hell, they wanted to spend the night with their
sister too. There’s just something about life-threatening situations that change everyone. Even the children matured suddenly.

  Being in the hospital had taken a toll on me, though. I was tired all the time, and I was in desperate need of some R and R. One day, the ladies got together and gave me a huge surprise. We did a half a day at the spa, and then they treated me to lunch and purchased me an outfit and a pair of shoes.

  “Hey, lady,” they greeted me as they came into the hospital room.

  “What’s up, y’all?” I hugged each one of them, happy to see them, and then they all hugged Charity and played with her for a little bit.

  “How are things?” I asked them.

  “Aldris and I are wonderful—” Lucinda started out quickly.

  “Oh, please, don’t nobody want to hear about Aldris today. That’s all I ever hear anymore is Aldris this and Aldris that. Let it go, Lu,” Trinity said to her.

  “Well, forgive me, por favor. I’d think you’d be happy for me, but I guess you’re just hatin’ on my situation because you’re still stuck in yours,” Lucinda shot at Trinity.

  “Come on, you guys. This is not the place for petty arguments,” LaMeka said to them.

  Charity giggled softly. “My aunties are so funny, Mama.”

  “Pay them no attention.” I rubbed her forehead.

  “Anyway, we came by because we have a surprise for you, cuz,” Trinity said.

  “And just what might that be?” I asked them.

  “Since we haven’t officially celebrated your engagement and you need a little break, we figured we’d take you out,” LaMeka answered.

  “Oh, thanks, but I can’t. I have to stay here with—”

  “Oh no, you do not have to stay. I’m going to be here. You go and get some ‘me’ time,” my mom said, coming into the room.

  “See, Ms. Charlene says so. You know we were going to come prepared. So let’s go, and let me see the size of the rock on your finger,” Lucinda said, staring down at the two-carat diamond set in a platinum band. “Ryan did good.”

  As they gushed over the rock, I blushed before I bragged, “Yeah, I love it too, but it’s a temporary ring. My boo is getting a ring custom made. It’s going to be called the Charice Original.”

  “Damn!” they all said in unison, including my mother.

  “Shit, if that’s only temporary, then he should’ve just given you a Cracker Jack box ring,” Trinity said smartly.

  “You’re right, Lu. She is a hater,” I agreed.

  “See,” Lucinda said, pointing at Trinity. “Stop hatin’.”

  “Heck! He has the money, so why not?” LaMeka added. “He can do what he wants.”

  “This new ‘Christian’ LaMeka is so aggravating,” Trinity said.

  “We should’ve left your pregnant, whiny, fussy ass at the house. How’s that for my Christianity?” LaMeka took a dig at Trinity.

  Everyone burst out laughing, including Trinity, who put her hands up in surrender. “I’m sorry. You guys are right. My issues, coupled with this pregnancy, are really bugging me lately. I promise to be on my best behavior,” Trinity apologized.

  “Good. Now let’s go,” LaMeka said.

  I hugged my mom and Charity and left to enjoy my day with them. When I returned, I was so refreshed and relaxed. I didn’t realize how much I needed that “me” time, if for nothing else but to restore my energy for Charity.

  Reminiscing on that day, I realized that little bit of R and R came just in time. Within a few days, we finally got the call we had been waiting for. Ryan was in the middle of training camp when the good news came. To say we were overjoyed was an understatement.

  “Baby! They have one!” I yelled into the phone. “They have a heart for Charity!”

  “I’ll be on a plane today. Oh God! Thank you! Hey fellas, we have a donor,” he yelled to his teammates. Afterward, all I could hear were thunderous applause, hollers, and well wishes.

  “When is the surgery?” he asked.

  “The transplant team and Dr. Nichols want to run some more tests to be sure Charity is still a good candidate for the transplant. The heart is being airlifted here as we speak.”

  “I’m on my way out of the stadium. Once I get some things together, I’m outta here on the jet, but I will be there before the heart does. I promise you that,” Ryan guaranteed.

  “Okay, baby, be careful.”

  “I will. I love you, baby.”

  “Me too,” I said and blew a kiss into the phone.

  Finally, all of this madness was coming to an end so that Charity could be on the road to recovery. Ryan made it home just in time for the doctors to discuss her risks of surgery and after-surgery care. We were so excited but nervous at the same time because there were so many risk factors involved, but I refused to worry about that part. I just wanted the surgery to go well so that I could bring my baby home and we could live our lives as a family in New York.

  “Everything is going to be fine,” I told Charity. “Daddy and I will be right behind this window, and we’ll be waiting for you when you come out, okay, sweetie?”

  She nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I love you, Charity. I love you so much. Be strong, princess,” Ryan said as he held her in his arms.

  “I love you too, Daddy,” she said. “I love you too, Mommy.”

  “I love you, too.” I kissed her forehead.

  “I’m happy you’re getting married,” she said out of the blue.

  Ryan and I looked at each other, surprised to hear her mention anything about our nuptials. “Thank you, sweetie,” I said to her.

  Ryan Jr. and Ray came and played with her, and then our parents came in. Everyone got their chance to visit with Charity before the surgery, and then it was time. Ryan and I gave her one last hug, and then we headed into the observation room as they rolled her into surgery. I could hardly contain my tears as I watched them crack open my daughter’s chest like she was a damn egg about to be fried for Sunday breakfast. The scene before us was graphic, but after fighting the administration to allow us to view the surgery, Ryan and I endured for Charity’s sake.

  The surgery was going fine, and then all of a sudden, after the team disconnected the bypass machine, the donor heart wouldn’t beat, and she began to flatline.

  “Oh my God, Ryan! What’s happening to our baby?” I screamed while he held me.

  “It’s okay. She’ll come back. She will,” he said as if trying to will her to pull through from behind the glass.

  Soon, a nurse ran into our observation room and told us to wait outside, and a massive curtain began closing, blocking our view of anything going on in the operating room.

  “Why? What’s going on?” I asked frantically.

  “Ms. Taylor, please just wait—”

  “What the hell is wrong with my baby?” I screamed, interrupting her.

  “Please, Ms. Taylor, I have to get back inside,” she practically begged me. “I’m not doing Charity any good being in here. Please.”

  “Come on, baby,” Ryan conceded as he lightly tugged at me, and we left the room.

  Ryan and I waited for about thirty minutes before Dr. Nichols and Dr. Wellington came inside the waiting area where we were located. By the time he got there, I was a nervous wreck. My eyes were red, and my hands were trembling.

  “Dr. Nichols,” I shouted and rushed up to him. “What’s going on?” I asked frantically as Ryan put his hands on my shoulders.

  “Please tell us what’s going on with our princess,” Ryan asked more calmly.

  “Ms. Taylor, Mr. Westmore, I’m so sorry. The surgery went as planned. However, once we disconnected the bypass machine, we were initially unsuccessful at getting the heart to start—”

  “What are you saying to us?” I screamed.

  Dr. Wellington took over and grabbed my hands, moving me to sit down beside him. With tears in his eyes, he said, “Charice, I’m so sorry. We were able to resuscitate Charity. However, she went into cardiac arrest
. After the second attempt, she was gone for a long time—”

  “What the hell are you saying to us, Dr. Wellington?” Ryan urged, his voice cracking from emotion.

  Dr. Wellington took a deep breath. “We were able to bring her back, but she’s suffered a lot of trauma due to the lack of oxygen going to her brain during that time. She’s fallen into a coma, and she’s on life support. She’s in a very unstable condition, and right now, all we can do is watch and wait. I am so very sorry.”

  “Nooo! Not my baby. You’re lying to me! Not my little girl! She fought so hard. You can’t be telling the truth,” I screamed at him as a river of tears slid down my face.

  Ryan tried to console me between his own sobs. “Can we see her?”

  “We’re wrapping everything up and preparing to take her back to ICU. You can see her then,” Dr. Nichols said. “I have to go back in to assist, but I want you to be prepared. The donor heart is beating, and right now, there aren’t any signs of rejection, but she’s very weak, and her condition doesn’t look promising. I truly hope that she can pull through, but it’s all in God’s hands at this point,” he explained before leaving.

  “There will be no loss! Charity will not die! I refuse to believe that! No way,” I screamed on the brink of hysteria.

  “At this point, it is out of our control. All we can do is wait,” Dr. Wellington said, trying to bring a sense of calm. “Perhaps I can prescribe a sedative for you,” he said, patting my hand in a feeble attempt to console me.

  “I don’t need a damn sedative. I need to see my daughter and know that she is all right. That’s it. She will not die. Do you hear me? Nope, not my daughter,” I said belligerently.

  Dr. Wellington looked sadly between Ryan and me. Ryan placed a hand on Dr. Wellington’s shoulder and nodded to him. “I’ll talk to her, Dr. Wellington.” Ryan excused him. Dr. Wellington gently rubbed my back and shook Ryan’s hand before exiting.