True Beauty

by Shelia E. (Lipsey) Bell

  it seems certain it cannot come true unless man cooperates.

  Kacie, Layla, and Envy arrived at church within minutes of each other. Kacie headed toward the nursery and children’s church to sign in the younger kids, while Kenny went on his own to youth church.

  Layla and Envy had saved a space for Kacie on the purple fabric-covered pews. The praise and worship team started to sing, and people all over the church joined in. Layla’s voice sprouted forth as if it had a mind of its own. Kacie and Envy looked at each other.

  Kacie leaned over and whispered into Envy’s ear, “She needs to be back up there.”

  Envy nodded.

  After praise and worship, Minister Washington extended an invitation to the congregation to come to the altar for prayer. Envy was the only one out of the three of them to walk toward the front of the church, along with a large group of other churchgoers. When he started praying, Envy started pleading to herself for God’s guidance. She was not going to let anything or anyone keep her from going to talk to an attorney about her situation. Whatever she had to face to get rid of the guilt and to remove the self-condemnation out of her life, she was willing to do. She also prayed for strength to reestablish some type of civil relationship with her sister, Nikkei. She missed her nephew and niece, and she missed Nikkei. Since their mother’s death almost three years ago, Nikkei had little to do with Envy. At first, it suited Envy just fine. They always butted heads when they were growing up, and it had carried over into their adult lives.

  Nikkei had a great marriage with ideal children. She lived in a nice home inside a gated community. Envy looked at her as a trophy wife because she only worked when she got bored. Other than that, Nikkei spent her days transporting her children to school, after-school activities, and church.

  Envy returned to her seat with her eyes filled with glistening tears. Neither Kacie nor Layla said a word.

  Pastor Betts walked up to the pulpit. “I feel good this morning. I feel the presence of the Lord in this place. I don’t know how y’all can sit still. His eyes appeared to roam the sanctuary. “If you’re here this morning, that ought to be enough to make you stand on your feet and give God some praise,” he bellowed. “I know the choir is about to show out, but before they come, I see someone that you and I know can pull the blessings on down.”

  Envy watched as Pastor Betts’ eyes shifted in the area where they were seated.

  “Sister Layla, come on up here.”

  Layla gasped, One hand flew up to her neck. It was evident that she was stunned. She looked around like perhaps another Layla was being called.

  The sound of thunderous clapping began. Envy and Kacie joined in the clapping too. They took a step back so Layla could pass by them.

  Layla stood frozen.

  “Come on here, Sister Layla. God didn’t give you that voice for you to keep quiet.” He focused on Layla until she slowly crept up to the podium like a frightened kitten.

  “You know what I want to hear,” he told her. The musicians began to play the tune of the song, in Layla’s key. She swallowed, looked at Pastor Betts as he went to sit on the bench, and suddenly the words of the song poured from her mouth.

  “Amazing . . . grace,” she sang. It was like having the old Layla back again. Her body was indeed different, but her voice was stronger than ever.

  By the end of the song, the congregation was in an uproar. People were shouting and praising God all over the sanctuary.

  “Layla, girl, you sang that song,” Kacie told her when she returned to her seat. “You tore it up, girl.”

  “Thanks,” she responded, “but I wish Pastor Betts hadn’t put me on the spot like that.”

  Pastor Betts stepped back to the pulpit. “Thank you, Sister Layla. Did y’all hear what I heard? She said—just in case you were thinking about what you were doing last night, or rather this morning before you got to church—she said God’s grace is amazing. That’s enough right there to make you want to get up and shout.”

  The congregation roared and clapped; the percussionist and guitar players went wild on their instruments. The pianist followed suit and then the choir stood and began to sing the song, again.

  “All right, all right,” Pastor Betts said. “That’s enough. Y’all keep on like this and we won’t ever get out of here.” He chuckled as he picked up his Bible from the podium. “I want you to turn to Acts, chapter thirteen. I’m going to read one verse from the New International Version. Verse thirty-eight says, ‘Therefore, my friends, I want you to know that through Jesus the forgiveness of sins is proclaimed to you.’”

  Envy looked at the passage of scripture in her Bible and thought about her life. Forgiveness? But I don’t know if you can ever forgive me, God. I’ve slept with so many men that I’ve lost count. Lord, I left my own child to die. Surely, you cannot forgive me. I’m ugly, so ugly, maybe no one can tell from the outside, but I know, and you know, that I’m ugly all on the inside.

  Pastor Betts spoke with firmness and assurance. “Let me say that again. I want you to know that through Jesus the forgiveness of sins is proclaimed to you.” He pointed toward the congregation. “Allow me to tell you what the Britannica Dictionary says about the meaning of proclaim. It means ‘to cry out’; ‘to declare publicly,’ and then it says ‘to praise or glorify openly or publicly extol.’ Forgiveness is not something that God doesn’t want you to know about. He publicly, proudly, with a show of praise and glory, forgives you.”

  Pastor Betts stood on his toes, which meant he was really getting into his message. “God is a forgiving God. He proclaims that you are forgiven. There is nothing that you can do, say, or become that God will not forgive. He says that He is faithful and just to forgive you of your sins—not some sins, but all of your sins. All-inclusive. Jesus is the perfect sacrifice so that you and I”—he pointed to himself—“can be forgiven. The question remains, are you going to forgive yourself? When are you going to let go of the past mistakes you’ve made? When are you going to look in the mirror and see yourself the way God sees you?”

  Envy couldn’t take it anymore. It couldn’t be possible. She’d done too much wrong; she’d made too many mistakes. Without forewarning, she stood up, eased across Kacie’s legs, and hurried toward the exit of the sanctuary. Just as she made it to the door leading into the vestibule, her eyes met up with Leonard’s. Next to him sat an attractive woman. Her fingers were intertwined with his. Envy dashed out the door and raced into the nearest women’s bathroom. Tears gushed from her eyes. She didn’t understand why she was crying. Was it because of what Pastor Betts said, or was it because she saw Leonard with another woman, and of all places, Cummings Street, when he knew this was her church. As long as she’d known Leonard, she rarely heard him acknowledge church. If he thought his selfish act would make her jealous, he was dead wrong. It only solidified the belief that men were no good and were out to use a woman for whatever they could. Whatever the reason for her tears, it all added up to a sense of shame and self-disgust.

  “That low down dog, how could he?” she said aloud, not caring if there was anyone else in the bathroom besides her. Envy sat on the toilet inside one of the stalls and pulled out her mirrored compact. She regarded her red eyes and tear-streaked face. Suddenly she could see clearly. It had taken her eighteen years to see what a terrible and ugly person she was. The mirror didn’t lie; it couldn’t lie. She felt such shame until she became physically sick to her stomach. She jumped up off the toilet, lifted the lid, and vomited until all she saw was a black tarlike substance in the toilet.

  The door to the bathroom opened. “Envy? Envy, are you in here?” Envy hurried and quietly let the toilet seat down and sat on top of it with her legs propped up.

  “She’s not in here,” she heard Kacie say.

  “Well, where did she go?” she heard Layla ask Kacie. Envy remained still and quiet as a church mouse, until she heard their footsteps retreat, and the door close behind them. For several minutes, she remained in the stall u
ntil she was sure they were gone.

  As fast as her trembling legs could carry her, Envy ran out of the church and across the street to her parked car. Once she was safe inside, she released a new wave of tears. Turning the ignition on, she put the car in gear and, luckily, sped off without hitting a car parked close to her.

  For the remainder of the afternoon and on into the night, Envy refused to answer her phone. After she received so many calls and text messages from Kacie, Layla, and Leonard, she turned off the phone and curled up in her bed in a fetal position. She cried until she cried herself to sleep.

  An incessant knocking noise jarred her from her turbulent sleep. She stumbled out of the bed. The over-sized digital clock in her living room said 7:30. For a moment, Envy was confused. Was it seven-thirty a.m. or p.m.? The constant knocking irritated her even more. “Who is it?” she yelled.

  “Leonard.”

  “Get away from my door,” Envy yelled. “I have nothing to say to you.”

  “Please, Envy. Open the door. I want to explain.”

  “You have nothing to explain to me, Leonard, because you don’t mean a thing to me,” she yelled even louder. “Now get away from my door before I call the cops!”

  Silence came. The kind of silence that made her feel like something had been ripped from her heart.

  Certain that Leonard had left, she peeped outside the picture window and saw that it was dark. Her mind began to come back into focus about the day’s events. She returned to her bedroom and turned on her cell phone. Message tones began to flood her phone one after another. The calls were all from Kacie, Layla, and Leonard. She thought of whom she could call that would give her the least grief. All she wanted to do was let Kacie and Layla know that she was all right.

  She decided to call Layla, who was far less dramatic than Kacie.

  “Girl, why did you leave out of church like that? We’ve been worried sick about you. Where have you been, and why did you turn your phone off?” Concern filled Layla’s voice.

  “I . . . I got sick. I’m sorry. I had to leave out of church before I threw up all over you, Kacie, and everybody. I made it to the ladies’ room just in time,” she continued to lie. “I thought I would feel better if I splashed some cold water on my face, but I only started to feel worse, so I left and came home. I must be coming down with the flu.”

  “You still didn’t have to turn off your phone like that. You could have just picked it up and told us what was wrong.”

  “Look, I’m sorry, okay? I don’t feel like being put through the third degree. I told you what happened, and you’re right, I shouldn’t have turned my phone off, but the constant ringing was making me feel even worse, if that makes any sense,” Envy replied, trying to sound a little less edgy.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to badger you. I know how bad the flu can make you feel, and it comes on you so quickly. Is there anything you need me to bring you? Soup, crackers, aspirin, anything?”

  “No, I keep chicken noodle soup in the pantry and I have some crackers too. Just do me a favor?”

  “Sure. What?”

  “Call Kacie and tell her what happened. I still don’t feel up to talking to anyone. And you and I both know how dramafied Kacie can get. I can’t take it tonight. All I want to do is crawl back under the covers and go back to sleep.”

  “Okay, but please keep your phone on, even if you have to put it on vibrate. Call or text me if you need anything.”

  “Thanks, Layla, I will.”

  Envy laid her cell phone beside her on the bed. She cried some more. She was hurting over everything that she’d done wrong in her life, and it was time to do something about it.

  Fischer sat at the side of her bed and looked at her with his large brown eyes. “Come on, Fischer. At least you love me, no matter what I’ve done.” Fischer jumped on the bed and plopped himself next to her with his chin resting on her chest.

  “Fischer, tomorrow is the day that I’m going to start clearing up the mess I’ve made of my life. But for now, all I want to do is sleep.” Envy got up, went into the den, and looked inside her minibar full of mostly red and white wines. She chose a bottle of Moscato. On the way back to her bedroom, she stopped by the kitchen to get a wineglass. Fischer trailed behind her. She sat on the side of the bed and drank several glasses of wine until some of the pain subsided and she fell back to sleep—but not for long. The wine mixed with the contents of an empty stomach made her sick again, and she woke up and rushed to the bathroom.

  When she returned and got ready to lie back down, the phone vibrated and moved around on the nightstand. She picked it up and saw a familiar name—Tyreek. Her first inclination was to ignore the call, but like she always did when she was depressed and feeling guilty, her quick fix was to let her physical body take control. At least for a time, she could hide her problems with a man beside her.

  “What time can you be here?” she asked Tyreek without giving him a chance to speak.

  “Give me forty-five minutes.”

  “I’ll give you twenty-five,” she said, and ended the call. She got up, took a hot bubble bath, and prepared to spend the night letting Tyreek take her to another place in time, one that wouldn’t include the trappings of her sordid life.

  She met Tyreek a few years back at one of her secret getaway spots, Precious Cargo. Neither Layla or Kacie knew that she spent quite a bit of time at the downtown restaurant and bar. She would have a few drinks after work, get her buzz on, and then meet up with the bartender afterward, who was none other than Tyreek. He was just her type: handsome, suave, single, and with a physique like a soap opera hunk. He was always impeccably groomed and his conversation was smooth as butter. Yeah, he definitely had it going on, and Envy set out to add him to her stable of available “mind relaxers,” as she’d come to call the men she used. This part of her life, she kept on the down low.

  There was no way she would ever confide in Kacie or Layla about her secret sex life. And they would call her “crazy” or “psycho” if she told them she had an alter ego who visited her every time she stood in front of the mirror. Her alter ego was powerful, almost more powerful than Envy. She reminded Envy that though she may have been beautiful on the outside, she was filthy and wretched on the inside. The face in the mirror looked beyond her outer beauty and saw her true ugliness. Envy despised the face in the mirror, because it revealed a part of her that she wanted to escape, if only for a little while.

  Tyreek had come to understand Envy. He really liked her when he first met her, but time had shown him that he would never be more than a quick lay for her. He was someone who could satisfy her sexually—tell her all the words she longed to hear—only for her to almost push him out of her bed until the next time she called. He used to want more and expect more from her, like possibly building a relationship, but Envy reminded him through her words and actions that her heart was not up for grabs.

  Tyreek soon became content being Envy’s nightcap, her mind relaxer, her boy toy, like many other men who’d come and gone in Envy’s life, always with no strings attached until she pulled them.

  Leonard Stein was a different story. He was the only man out of all the men she had bedded over the years to capture a portion of her heart. But after seeing him with another female today, she threw him in the same pile of mess that she placed all of the others. He was only good for one thing, and now she wasn’t so sure she’d use him for that anymore either. He pretended that he wanted to be with her, and that he loved her, but his actions today showed an entirely different story. He was someone she used, like she did Tyreek, Cedric, Chris, Ronnie, Tyrone, Pete, and an endless list of other men, some of whom she’d forgotten their names. None of them meant anything to her but a good or halfway de-cent time in bed for as long as she wanted. After the sex ended, she wanted them to leave. She made sure never to allow any man she slept with to think that it could be more to it than what it was: sex. Some—like Leonard, Tyreek, and Cedric—always came back for more; while othe
rs were merely a one-night stand that she initiated. It was her game, and the game was played according to her rules, until it came to Leonard.

  Envy couldn’t quite grasp what it was about Leonard that was different. He was really no different from any of the others in the beginning. She didn’t like that he always seemed to want more from her than she was willing to give. She had managed to get Tyreek to understand what she wanted, and things were fine between them, but Leonard was a horse of a different color. He was special in his own way.

  Leonard was the one who stood by her when her mother and her neighbor, Mrs. Rawlings, died. Leonard was the one whose kisses were full of passion and true desire. Sure, he understood, or said he understood, that she wanted nothing serious with him, but somehow Leonard was able to step beyond her hardcore exterior and walk away with a tiny fraction of her heart. He had a way about himself that made her believe she could trust him. So there were times she talked on the phone to Leonard or visited him at his home, something that was definitely off limits with the other men that had come and gone in her life.

  Today was a tough one, even for a woman like Envy who had the backbone to stand up against anyone and almost anything. Today opened her eyes and revealed her true weakness. Stanton had walked away from her when she got pregnant as a teen, and not since then had she given a man the opportunity to crush her heart. She was not about to start now. What she saw at church today was for her own good. She needed a wake-up call; she needed to be reminded that she was slipping, and that was not part of Envy Wilson’s persona.

  The doorbell took her from her thoughts. Fischer barked and Envy walked to the front door to let Tyreek in. She had prepared for his intimate visit by putting on a thigh-length grape satin kimono wrap and a splash of her favorite fragrance.

  She opened the door, and ordered Fischer to sit and invited Tyreek to come in.

  “Girl, you look—”

  Envy hushed him with a kiss, which almost cut off his breath. She rarely kissed him. It was something Envy just didn’t do. Kissing meant there was a deeper connection. It took the mission she was on out of perspective—the mission to satisfy her sexual desire and escape from her present battle with herself. But if she chose to change the rules from time to time, so be it. It was all on her terms and in her own way. Tyreek slammed the front door closed with one hand and returned her hot passion with that of his own. He kissed her face, her neck, and moved to her shoulders. Without breaking away from her, he pushed her toward the bedroom.