The Bachelorette Party

by Donald Welch

  “I’m not playing that game,” Mira said, shaking her head. Freda asked, “Something to hide, Mira?”

  “No, but I think that this is ground that should not be covered tonight,” she responded.

  “Okay, Miss DeVoe,” Keisha challenged, “tell us a secret about you that we don’t know.”

  After taking the floor for a few moments, Renee willed the courage to share. “Okay, when I was seventeen—” She stopped and then continued. “—I…tried it with a girl.”

  “Tell me more,” Mira said as some of the friends gasped. Freda looked thoroughly disgusted by the revelation.

  “How did you get yourself into a situation like that, Renee?” Nicole asked.

  “It was over a guy in high school. Remember Darren Stokes on the swim team?”

  Keisha said, “You mean the bowlegged guy with the big—”

  Nicole cut her off immediately. “Keisha!”

  “Feet, I was going to say feet.”

  Renee ignored Keisha and continued her story. “Well, if you remember, I was crazy over him. He wanted me to do it with a girl while he watched.”

  Mira jumped in. “Hold up. Clarification, here—why do men have no problem watching two women get it on with each other or him joining in? But if the woman wants him to watch a porn tape with two dudes, he barks at that, walks out, calling her a freak? It’s still the same sex getting it on.”

  Keisha said, “They ain’t all barking, and they ain’t all walkin’ out. That’s the ultimate turn-on for a straight man—two women.”

  Renee explained, “It only went as far as light kissing, but nothing more than that because it hit me: My self-respect and pride were being tested. He told me that if I loved him and really wanted him the way I said I did, then I’d do anything that he asked. And then I thought about it. How dare you judge my feelings and love on some sick sex act that’s getting you off? When I refused, he said to me, ‘That’s why brothas don’t deal with no dark-ass sistahs like you all.’ The white girl left me stranded and standing in the middle of the room. I was so lucky, because to my surprise, when I flew out of the room, there was a line of his black teammates waiting to join in. Darren was just the warm-up. He and his teammates didn’t like their egos bruised, so they spread the word that I had a tryst with a white girl and the entire swim team. I withdrew from every club in school. It was like everybody was looking at me as the slut of the swim team.”

  Nicole said, “I remember there was some type of rumor about you, but we all dismissed it as a lie and thought some jealous classmate started it. Girl, we didn’t take that seriously back then.” She hugged Renee, who took a huge sip of champagne.

  Renee teared up and said, “Okay, who’s next?” scanning the room for a response.

  Freda asked, “Next for what?”

  “Revealing a secret,” Renee said quietly.

  Silence.

  “Oh hell, I’ll go next. I escorted in college,” Keisha confessed.

  “What!” they exclaimed.

  “Yeah, I did it for a whole semester. My parents weren’t speaking to me, because I decided I didn’t want to be an educator like them. I wanted to own my own business. When I changed my major, they cut me off. A girl in my dorm turned me on to it.”

  “You didn’t have to do that,” Nicole said.

  “I know. Nobody said there was sex involved. There was no sex with those men. They paid for my company, and that was it.

  “And I don’t need you judgin’ me,” Keisha declared.

  “We all didn’t have a silver spoon in our mouths from the day of conception until now, like you, Nicky.”

  “That’s not fair,” Nicole said.

  “Bitch, life ain’t fair,” Keisha said, her tongue loosed by all the champagne and beer she had imbibed that evening.

  “Keisha! Don’t you dare attack Nicole in that way!” Zenora yelled.

  “Girl, you know you need to apologize. Nicole has always been a good friend to you,” Denise said.

  Keisha took her time before speaking. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me. It’s my own fault. Guess I’m just trippin’ because I never told anyone about that, and here I am blurting it out now to y’all.”

  They met halfway for a hug, and Nicole said, “It’s okay—and besides, that was yesterday. You now own a very successful bed-and-breakfast with your brother. So I would say the whole decision worked out well. Wouldn’t you? We’ve all done stupid shit when we were younger. Whatever you did then has made you stronger.”

  “Thanks, you always know how to turn lemons into lemonade.”

  Valerie said, “That’s Nicky: mother hen. Just wait until you and Alan have kids. Not only will they be loved, but they’ll be spoiled rotten, too.”

  Nicole became very quiet and started to clean up.

  Valerie noticed the change in Nicole’s demeanor. “What’s wrong? Nicky?”

  “It looks like none of you will be a godmother for our children,” Nicole said, and sobbed uncontrollably. “Because I can’t have children.”

  The other ladies were stunned. No one knew how to react to the sad news. They all thought Nicole would have been the best mother out of all of them.

  “Perhaps you guys should have known about this, but I didn’t know how to tell you. All my life you knew there were two things I wanted the most: to get married and have children.”

  Freda approached her cautiously. “Does Alan know?”

  “Yes, he does, and you know one thing, he was so sweet about it. He told me that, of course, he was saddened, but nothing was more important to his life than me. We thought about adoption—which is still an option—but I’m a woman. I should still be able to have my own kids. It’s not fair, it’s just not fair.”

  Denise eased away to the other side of the room.

  Zenora tried to comfort Nicole. “It’s okay, Nicky. Things change. You never know what God has in store for you two. Miracles do happen.”

  “I know. It has a lot to do with being diabetic. If I do become pregnant, there could be major complications, and I can’t do that to Alan.”

  Keisha noticed Denise had moved to the other side of the room and had turned her back to the other women. “Are you okay, Denise?”

  After a long pause, Denise responded, “I had an abortion five months ago. It just wasn’t the time to have a kid. Besides, I would have to put off the election and I’m not sure if I am mother material.”

  “Wait a minute,” Freda said, jumping up. “You say you’re pro-life in your campaign commercials, but then you go and have an abortion. You’re talking out of both sides of your mouth. You’re just like a typical politician.”

  Denise rebutted by saying, “I am pro-life. That was the best decision for me at the time. Do you think it was an easy one? You think I haven’t felt guilty about it?”

  Not ready to back down, Freda said, “Then why did you do it?”

  Bitterly, Denise shouted, “Because I was raped. Are you happy now? I had an abortion because I was raped.”

  Nicole’s own reaction turned from being appalled to remorseful. “Do you want to tell us what happened?” Nicole asked gently. Sad eyes were on Denise as she sat at the dining room table and her story began to unfold.

  “I—I—I was working at my firm late one night, and before I knew it, everyone was gone except our maintenance guy, Jim. As he was leaving, he offered to walk me to my car, but I told him no and that I would be fine. I told him he should go home and that I would see him tomorrow. By the time I got down to the garage, the only car left on the lot was mine. I opened the trunk and put my briefcase in it.

  “When I closed it, I felt a hand over my mouth and a knife at my neck. He never said anything. He didn’t have to. I knew he meant business. Duct tape was wrapped across my eyes and mouth. I tried to fight, but then I sensed he was not alone. There were two of them. I remembered having the strangest thought as I lay on the ground. It felt so cold. Here I was being raped and possibly even killed after
they were through, but all I could think about was how strange it was that it was so hot in the garage that evening, yet the ground felt so cold against my body. When they were done, I just lay there very quietly. I wanted them to think I had blacked out.

  “They never uttered a word to me or each other. They just buckled their pants and walked away like it was nothing. Sometimes I can still remember the smell of their cheap cologne and sweat. I remained silent and motionless even after I knew they were long gone. This may sound strange, but there was something comforting and secure about that cold ground. But I refused to prepare myself for death. Physically, I knew I needed to get up and leave, but mentally I felt safe being there alone where no one could see me.

  “In reality, I knew that once I got up, I would have to deal with what had just occurred. When I did manage to get in my car, I went home. You know usually the first thing a rape victim does is take a shower. I didn’t. I actually made myself a bite to eat and watched television before falling asleep on my sofa. When I woke up in the morning, I showered and went to the office like things were normal once again. Imagine that—worked all day, saw three clients, and went out to dinner with my campaign manager. That’s me, still being in control. That’s me—Denise always gotta be in control.”

  Denise collapsed. She started crying and shaking. “That’s—that’s me, Denise, always in control,” she said again, her voice breaking.

  Freda approached her and put her arm around Denise’s shoulder. Nicole said, “You didn’t have to bear this alone. You could have told me; you could have told any one of us.”

  “I know, but telling you about it would only cause me to relive the experience. Until this moment, I had filed it away and I never wanted to think about it again. Yes, I still get scared at night when I go to my car, but I refuse to change my habits because of what happened. I’m not going to let them defeat me,” she said defiantly.

  “You know that it wasn’t your fault, right?” Zenora said. “What did the police say after you filed a report?” When Denise didn’t answer, Zenora prodded, “You did file a report, didn’t you?”

  “No. What could the police have done? I never saw their faces. What description could I have given? I just wanted to get on with my life, and all I could think of was that I could have gotten AIDS. Becoming pregnant for some reason never entered my mind. How could I bring a child into this world not knowing who the father was? Why should my one night of hell become my child’s lifetime of hell? Like I said, I had no choice.”

  Sighing heavily, Denise asked, “Could I get a hug?”

  “Of course, girl,” Nicole said, and they all moved to surround Denise for some sisterly bonding.

  “Maybe I should have suggested another game!” Renee said, hoping to break the tension. The women broke out in laughter, glad for the relief.

  Mira pulled away from the hug. “Since we’re telling secrets, I’ll make mine short and sweet. I don’t want to discuss it any further. I’m just going to say it because I haven’t been completely honest with you guys tonight. Jeanette not being here with me tonight is not because she is upset about the water main break at the club. We’ve been separated for two weeks now. She’s having second thoughts after all these years about our relationship. I couldn’t believe it when she told me, and I blew the fuck up at her and we both said some things we shouldn’t have. She moved out.”

  “But what about the club?” Renee asked.

  Mira explained, “We’re still partners, but we’re just keeping it on the business tip right now.”

  “Things will work out, Mira,” Nicole said. “Maybe Jeanette needs some time. Everyone knows how much that girl loves you.”

  Freda took her hand and said, “It’s her loss, baby.”

  Mira was shocked. Freda was the last person she expected support from. “Thank you, Freda,” Mira said.

  It was now Freda’s turn to open up. “Okay, I might as well get this shit—stuff—over with, and you guys have to promise me that you’re not gonna laugh either.”

  Keisha and Zenora started laughing and guessed that her secret was probably something she has done sexually.

  Freda said, “See what I mean?”

  Keisha said, “Go ’head, girl, spill your guts.”

  Freda said, “Well, I really have been thinking about my life lately, spiritually, getting closer to God. Two months ago, I joined the church.”

  No one responded but Keisha. “What? A real church?”

  Freda retorted, “No, bitch, a fake church! See even when I try to clean up my shit, people won’t let me.”

  Renee asked, “What kind of church? Buddhism, Scientology, you know like Tom Cruise?”

  Freda answered in anger, “Christianity, fool! Ain’t no black people into Scientology. I’m becoming a Christian again.”

  Nicole said, “Visiting a church or joining a church isn’t anything to be ashamed of.”

  “Oh, I’m not ashamed. I guess I am more worried about how I will be perceived in the recording industry. You know, will it hurt my career? The one thing I don’t want is to turn off any record labels or producers. But you guys know me—I speak in the moment, I speak my mind, but this not-cussin’ shit is hard.”

  “Well, just don’t go to the opposite extreme and become a holy roller,” Nicole cautioned.

  “Well, I am proud of you, Freda,” Valerie said. “Maybe religion is something that you’ve been lacking in your life.”

  “Bitch how you know what’s lacking in somebody’s life and you round here living like Condoleezza Rice,” Keisha taunted. “You know she plays with ‘bush.’”

  Valerie ignored Keisha’s vulgar remarks while Freda continued telling them of her life change and how reading the Bible and going to church had been difficult, but worth it all. “Haven’t you noticed that I have not been cursing as much?”

  “No,” everyone said in unison.

  “You know I think this is a good thing,” Nicole said proudly as she looked at Freda. “Freda opened a topic that I want us all to talk about and I’ve been meaning to bring this up for some time now. To tell you the truth, I know that women say it as an endearment at times, but I don’t like the fact that we routinely call each other ‘bitches’ all the time. And I’m not also feeling the word ‘nigger’ either. We need to stop.”

  Mira protested, “Why are you trippin’, Nicky? I mean we all say it. Using the word bitch ain’t always bad. There’s a lot of different bitches, like, how many times have we said, ‘I’m a bad bitch,’ or ‘She’s a bitch,’ or ‘Bitch, please,’ or my favorite, ‘Bitch better have my money’?”

  “Please, that’s what I’m talking about, and we joke about it still. But we don’t like it when ‘other’ people use the words bitches and niggers. We make it worse when we use it. Let’s stop perpetuating this. I’m not a bitch, because I’m not a dog. And that’s what a bitch is—a dog. That’s also what slave masters called black female slaves. Bitches and bucks, that’s what we were called. Too many of us forgot our history. Jews never forgot the Holocaust, so why do we have to forget slavery, and lynchings, and boycotts.”

  “Umm-hmm,” the others agreed. A few moments passed in reflective silence.

  After considering what Nicole said, Mira proposed, “Okay, how about we make a pact right now not to use those two negative words anymore.”

  Everyone agreed except Keisha, who said, “Okay, I’ll try…. I said I’ll try, shit.”

  “Okay, I guess it’s my turn,” said Zenora. “It’s not a bombshell or anything, but I’m starting my own wig line. It’s still in the infant stages, and hopefully I’ll be going international, so that means it will include Asian, Hispanic, and Caucasian selections.”

  “You better work, bi—, I mean, girl,” Keisha said as she lifted up her hand for a high five.

  All eyes turned to Valerie to see if she had anything to reveal, but she just shrugged her shoulders and said nothing.

  Freda said, “Valerie ain’t got no secrets. Y’all
know she don’t do nothin’.” They all laughed until there was a knock at the door.

  Fourteen

  The Breakthrough

  I WONDER WHO that could be at this hour,” said Freda. “Maybe it’s Knight Rider comin’ back to give us another ride!”

  Freda answered the door to see Tisha standing in the doorway wearing sunglasses, a short jeans skirt, and a thin, wrinkled tank top. Her hair was messed up, and she clutched her large purse close to her chest. There was a deep cut in her bottom lip, and dried blood was encrusted around her nose. Her jaw was swollen, and there were prominent bruises around her neck. Her bare feet were bloody and grass-stained.

  Tisha entered the apartment in a stupor. Everyone ran over to her. Renee reached for her shoulder, and Tisha winced in pain. Nicole led her over to the sofa, and the women started asking a barrage of questions.

  Tisha was speechless and emotionless. Valerie reached for her sunglasses, but Tisha stopped her and removed them herself, slowly, revealing two very large black eyes as she lowered her head in shame.

  “I really don’t know when things changed. Roland went from being this caring, charming man who adored me to this abusive, controlling, and mean stranger. The first time he hit me, I literally was in shock. It surprised me so much that I didn’t even feel the pain. Isn’t that strange? Not feeling pain when it hurts so bad that you become numb. It was like my thoughts had not caught up with the reality of what had just happened. Only after tasting the saltiness of blood in my mouth did I realize I had been hit. It shocked him, too, because right after he did it, he began apologizing, crying, telling me how he didn’t mean to do it and that if I would just do what he said, it wouldn’t happen again.

  “Why do we believe any of this when we know it’s a lie? Sometimes he didn’t hit me but I wish that he had. After being called a whore, a bitch, and a worthless piece of shit so many times, I actually welcomed his blows to my body because they were fast and over quickly. The name-calling seemed to linger in my head and heart much longer.