I Can Do Better All By Myself

by E. N. Joy

  Margie had been the one to preach one Sunday that people who always get offended should take a look at themselves, because perhaps they walk in offense. She never pegged herself as a person who walked in offense, but she’d sure been getting offended a lot lately, and by her own church members. “Are you saying that female pastors can’t be trusted? That we can’t hold as much water as a male pastor?” Margie asked Mother Doreen.

  “Oh, on the contrary. I’m not speaking about female pastors in general at all,” Mother Doreen affirmed. “I’m speaking about you.”

  Okay, now Margie was really offended. Mother Doreen could tell too, because she watched her pastor turn as red as a tomato. “I think we better take this into my office,” Margie suggested.

  “No, Pastor,” Mother Doreen declined, “that won’t be necessary. I think enough has been said already.” She sadly made her way past her pastor. “I probably won’t be at your house by the time you get there.”

  “Mother Doreen, this is crazy. We really need to talk about this. Besides, your tenant doesn’t move out for another week.”

  “I’ll find a nice hotel that will have me ... and where the walls don’t talk.” After throwing that low blow, Mother Doreen was on her way out the door. She kept her composure all the way to her car while she was unlocking it, while she sat inside it, and even when she started it up. It was right when she was about to put the car in reverse and back out of her space that she broke down in tears. Mother Doreen couldn’t believe it herself. It had been years since she’d been broken. She thought she was all better ... all fixed. Guess she was just some fancy vase that had been broken, glued together, and was now leaking through the cracks. It was only a matter of time before she’d fall through the cracks completely.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  “Are you sure I’m not putting you out, Sister Nita?” Paige asked as she stood in her pajamas folding up the covers she’d slept on. After doing so, she laid them on the arm of the couch. This had been her second night sleeping at Nita’s place.

  “Not at all,” Nita assured her, fully dressed for work. “When I told you that I was here for you, I meant it.”

  “Yeah, but you have no idea how many other people have said that to me and I thought they meant it,” Paige huffed, and then sat down on the couch.

  “Are you referring to your husband?” Nita asked, taking a seat on the couch as well.

  “He’s one of them. He’s definitely one of them.” But Blake was not exactly who Paige had in mind when she’d made that statement. The person she’d had in mind was her supposedly best friend Tamarra.

  All Paige could think about were the words Blake had shot out at her. “Well, while you and Tamarra are over there playing comedians, did she tell you the one about the best friend who slept with the other best friend’s husband?” What exactly had he meant by that? Paige had so desperately wanted to know once she was able to get herself up from the ground and pull herself together. While doing so, a couple of the parishioners had come outside and questioned Paige regarding her condition.

  “It’s just my diabetes acting up,” Paige had lied out of habit when it came to her and Blake. “My sugar is low, and so I’m feeling a little weak. But I’ll be okay.”

  After the two women fussed over her until she assured them she was fine to drive, Paige got in her car and drove toward Tamarra’s. On the drive there, she played with the idea of whether she should confront Tamarra with the words Blake had spoken. For all she knew, he could have been speaking out of pure rage in an attempt to cause tension between her and Tamarra. Running back and accusing Tamarra of sleeping with her husband was probably exactly what Blake had wanted her to do.

  On the other hand, she’d spoken some things to Blake about his mother out of anger, but all that she’d spoken had been true. What if the same could be said about Blake?

  When Paige arrived at Tamarra’s, she was packing up to go to a catering event. With only a couple minutes to spare, Paige knew that if she struck up the conversation, they wouldn’t have time to finish it, so she kept it to herself. She’d wait until Tamarra returned home to mention it. So for the next few hours, Paige sat playing Blake’s words over and over in her head. She concluded that nine times out of ten, there wasn’t any truth to them. So by the time Tamarra returned home that evening, any ideas Paige had about confronting her were no more.

  Later as Paige lay in bed, her eyes would not close as she stared into darkness. Something deep in her spirit wouldn’t let her rest. Once confused about Blake’s words, now the mere thought of her husband and her best friend having slept together had Paige out of her bed, pacing madly.

  “Lord, help me,” Paige had prayed. “Please relax my spirit, Lord. Calm me so that I’m operating in the spirit and not the flesh,” she pleaded, but it was to no avail, it seemed, because the more Paige paced and prayed, the more her flesh fought to rise up. “Guide, me, Holy Spirit, about what I should say and what I should do.”

  Paige didn’t know how much time had gone by, but eventually she exited the room. The next thing she realized, her hand was pounding on a door. After pounding several times, the door eventually opened a crack.

  “Sister Paige, is everything okay?” Nita asked after opening her front door.

  “No,” was the reply that came out of Paige’s mouth. “I need a place to stay.”

  Nita looked down at the bags that sat at Paige’s feet. They were bags Paige had managed to pack before exiting the bedroom at Tamarra’s where she had been laying her head. “Come on in.” Nita moved to the side, allowing Paige to enter. “I ... I don’t have an extra bedroom, but I do have a couch.”

  “That will be fine,” Paige replied dryly, heading over to the couch.

  “Let me go get you some sheets and covers.” Nita walked to her linen closet, and then returned a few moments later with a sheet, two thin covers, and a pillow. Next, she proceeded to make the couch presentable for sleep.

  Still in her pajamas, Paige lay down. She hardly even acknowledged the couch’s owner.

  “Did something happen between you and Sister Tamarra?” Nita asked.

  “No, but I think something happened between Sister Tamarra and my husband.” Again, Paige’s tone was dry.

  “Did he, did he come to the house?” Nita was getting more and more concerned by the moment. “He didn’t try to hurt you or Tamarra, did he?”

  Paige shook her head. “No, it’s nothing like that.” She exhaled loudly, and then closed her eyes.

  “Okay. Well, I guess as long as everybody is okay, I’ll let you sleep, and we can talk about this in the morning.”

  “Good night, Sister Nita.”

  “Good night, Paige,” a confused Nita said, returning to her room.

  The next morning before leaving for work, Nita had expected Paige to speak about the situation, whatever the situation was that had brought her to her door late last night. She didn’t, though. Paige woke up, got dressed, and left for work as if it were just another ordinary day. From the looks of things, that’s exactly what it looked like she had planned on doing this morning as well, but not if Nita could help it.

  “Might I take a wild guess and assume that Sister Tamarra might be another person you are referring to? A person who says that she is there for you but doesn’t mean it?”

  Paige thought for a minute about whether she should go there with Nita. After a few seconds, she decided that if she was going to speak to anybody about it, that it was going to be Tamarra.

  “You know what, Sister Nita? With all that’s going on, with my court date with Blake tomorrow, I just really want to try to focus on that.”

  “I completely understand.” Sister Nita stood. “Well, I have to get to work. I may be my own boss, but there’s still always somebody else writing the checks. In my case, that somebody is my clients.”

  “I have to get myself ready for work as well.” Paige stood.

  “Just lock the bottom lock,” Nita advised her as she grabbed
her keys and a couple of things and walked to the door. “I’m going to try to remember to get an extra key made for you while I’m out today.”

  “Oh, thank you. I appreciate it. Have a good day.”

  “You do the same.” Nita exited the house, closing the door behind her.

  Paige had a couple of hours to spare before she had to actually clock in at work. Out of her element in Nita’s one-bedroom apartment, she wasn’t quite sure what she should do to kill time. “It’s been awhile since I’ve taken a nice, long, hot bath,” Paige told herself, deciding to do just that.

  After going through her bags, picking out what she was going to wear and ironing it up, she made her way into the bathroom. The entire time she worried if Nita had a clean bathtub or one with old, permanent stains or dingy little decals sticking everywhere. She was pleasantly surprised to see that the latter wasn’t the case. It was then Paige realized that Nita cleaned for a living. Of course she’d have a clean tub.

  Paige turned on the water and rinsed out the already-clean tub. Locating some scented bath gel under Nita’s sink, she allowed that to serve as her bubble bath, pouring it under the water faucet. Paige cut the water off after it filled three-fourths of the tub.

  For the next half hour, Paige sat relaxing in the tub. At first her thoughts rested on all the negative things that were going on in her life. Then, for a change, she decided that she’d only allow good stuff to settle. She thought about everything good she could possibly think of: all the things God had blessed her with in life, not all the things she’d seen as a curse.

  She thought about all the things she liked to do: watch movies, go for walks, talk to her mom on the phone. She thought about the things God had blessed her with: a nice church home, a voice to praise Him with, a best friend she could—That’s when she realized that some of her gifts could possibly serve as a curse.

  A chill now forming in the water, Paige decided to get out. Right as she stepped out, the doorbell rang. She was a little startled at first, considering she’d just spent the last hour in a quiet house. She grabbed a towel and was going to at least look through the peephole. She didn’t even make it out of the bathroom before stopping in her tracks.

  “Oh, no, you don’t,” she said to an invisible Satan. “I remember what happened the last time I took a long, hot bath, the doorbell rang, and I was wearing nothing but a towel.” Paige was referring to the incident when she was arrested, handcuffed, and led out of the house wearing nothing but the bath towel she’d wrapped around her after just getting out of the tub.

  The doorbell rang again. Paige quickly dried off and threw on her clothes in less than a minute. She figured she’d go back and put her lotion and deodorant on before going to work.

  Halfway to the door, Paige heard a voice. “I know you’re in there, Paige. Your car is out here. Open the door. We need to talk. I’m worried about you.”

  Paige stopped once she was at the door. The worry in her friend’s voice nearly melted her. It certainly didn’t sound like the voice of someone who would betray her as Blake had insinuated.

  “Please, Paige. I’m your best friend. You can talk to me,” she heard Tamarra plead through the door.

  By the time Paige got up enough nerve to at least look through the peephole, Tamarra had dropped her arms down to her side in defeat and was making her descent from off the porch.

  In a split second, Paige’s mind began to question whether she should let Tamarra go or open the door and get to the bottom of things. She watched Tamarra walk down the walkway and to her car. Time was running out. She had to think fast... think very fast. So Paige closed her eyes, and that’s exactly what she began to do: think. In a moment’s time, she finally opened the door. She opened the door just in time to see Tamarra’s car pull away. She hadn’t thought fast enough.

  Closing the door and locking it, Paige returned to the bathroom to finish getting ready for work. A half hour later, she too was in her car, pulling off. Digging her cell phone out of her purse, she placed a call. “Hey, Norman, I couldn’t remember off the top of my head whether you are on the schedule today,” she stated after dialing his cell number.

  “Sure am,” he replied. “I’m at work now.”

  “Good. Can you cover for me? An emergency came up. I’m going to be a little late.”

  “Not a problem. I’ll see you when you get here.”

  Ending the call, Paige made a detour from the path to her job to the path to her best friend’s house. There was no way she would have had a productive day at work with thoughts of the possibility of her best friend and her husband having slept together. She needed to find out the truth, and she needed to find out now.

  On her drive to Tamarra’s house, Paige really didn’t have any concerns about whether Tamarra would tell her the truth once she confronted her with the subject matter. Her concern was that once Tamarra did tell her the truth, if it wasn’t what she wanted to hear, would she be able to handle the truth?

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Lorain almost wished she hadn’t answered the phone. The loud screech on the other end gave her an instant headache.

  “I’m not gonna believe you went to jail and haven’t called me and said boo about it. Why is that?” Unique spat, without giving Lorain an opportunity to answer. “I have to hear it from Sister Helen.”

  “Sister Helen?” Lorain said. “How would she know?”

  “Beats me. She told me while I was giving her a complimentary Mary Kay makeover.”

  “What?” Lorain said angrily. “I offered a free make-over to Sister Helen over a dozen times, and she declined every time. You ask her, and she’s all for it?”

  “Yep, and she bought over a hundred dollars worth of products too,” Unique said proudly. “But don’t go trying to change the subject Tweety Jailbird. The kids are at school, so I’m listening without interruption.”

  “Ugh, it’s nothing,” Lorain sighed. “Besides, I’m at work. That’s not something I want to talk about here.”

  “Well, just so you know, the word is that Pastor had to bail you out of jail. But not only did Pastor have to bail you out of jail, but she had to do it with church funds.”

  “Are you serious?” Lorain asked loudly. She then lowered her tone and repeated the question.

  “I’m very serious, but remember, you can’t talk about it.”

  “Yes, you’re right. I can’t,” Lorain acknowledged. “But what I will say is that is a dog-faced lie. And besides, I paid Pastor back the bail money already. But that’s neither here nor there. Like I said, I can’t talk. I’m at work.”

  “Uh-huh. Likely story.” Unique sounded as if she wasn’t buying Lorain’s reasoning for not wanting to talk. “Anyway, I guess I’ll let you go. You can’t afford to lose your job. You have two babies to feed. Deuces.”

  Unique hung up the phone, and for some strange reason, Lorain sat at her desk with a smile on her face. Actually, it wasn’t for a strange reason at all. Hearing Unique remind her that in a few months she would be caring for her two granddaughters, who she would raise as her own daughters, put a big smile on her face.

  Lorain had to be reminded that life was greater than her and her woes. Although it was important to her that she and her mother mend their relationship, she had to stay focused on what lies ahead. Lorain raised her hand and smacked herself on the forehead. Thinking about her new endeavor of raising children, she was reminded of the parenting classes she had signed up to take. With all that had been going on, she’d already missed the first class that had started yesterday.

  “I am not going to start this raising babies thing out on the wrong foot. No, I’m not,” Lorain told herself, making a mental note as well as vowing to herself not to miss another week of the six-week session.

  Deciding to dive back into her work, Lorain’s cell phone rang again. “Darn it, Unique,” she mumbled to herself without even looking at the caller ID before actually picking up the phone. “You just don’t give up, do you?” Lo
rain assumed it was Unique calling her back to pick her for more information about her county jail stint. “I promise I’ll talk to you on my lunch break,” Lorain said into the phone.

  “In that case, I’ll see you at, let’s say, around noon-ish,” the masculine voice on the other end of the phone stated.

  “Dr. Wright, is that you?” Lorain asked.

  “Yes, this is Dr. Wright, but like I told you before, call me Nicholas.”

  Twice in the last few minutes a smile made Lorain’s lips its dwelling. Just hearing the good doctor’s voice lifted her spirit. She’d given him her number almost two weeks ago. That day outside of Unique’s hospital door when he’d stopped her, he’d offered her his business card. She’d accepted as well as offered him one of hers. He’d not called her until now. Quite frankly, she’d forgotten all about the exchange.

  “Doctor, I mean, Nicholas, I’m surprised to hear from you,” Lorain informed him.

  “I would have loved to call sooner, but it’s been crazy here at the hospital,” he explained.

  “Oh, I can only imagine.”

  A four-second period of silence filled the phone line.

  “Sooo, uhh, are you going to keep that promise?” Nicholas asked.

  “Promise?” Lorain was confused, to say the least.

  “Yes. When you answered the phone you promised that you’d talk to me at lunch. Any chance we can talk over soup and salad?”

  Lorain was yet again surprised. Perhaps not so much surprised as she was caught off guard.

  “Hello? Are you still there?” Nicholas asked when Lorain didn’t reply.

  “Uh, yes, I’m here. I was just looking at my calendar is all,” she lied. She quickly began to scan her desk calendar so that she wouldn’t be lying after all. “And it looks like I’m available. How does 12:30 P.M. sound?”