by Cydney Rax
I laid down my purse and thought for a few minutes.
“Okay, Derrick, what else is involved? What would I have to do?”
Derrick smiled. “I was on the committee last year, so I know it’s a great program. You’ll meet at the church that Thursday morning, and they’ll transport the ladies in these deluxe air-conditioned buses that have television screens and really comfortable seating. A few hours later you’ll arrive at the campgrounds for a four-day weekend. The mothers and daughters will do physical activities like canoeing, softball, and hiking, attend enrichment seminars, and you’ll get to regroup and become reacquainted with yourself and Lauren . . . and God.”
“Aha.”
“Don’t prejudge it, Tracey. This retreat will be a great opportunity for you to find out who you really are. You don’t have to give an answer now, but could you just think about it?”
“Well, thank you, Derrick, for the info. Sounds interesting, but I—I just don’t know. I mean, I know I need help, all the help I can get. I feel so stupid, you know, with me telling Lauren that she can move out. But at the time it seemed the right thing to say. I just didn’t expect her to leave so fast.”
Derrick said nothing. He closed his eyes for a moment and crossed his legs.
“And another thing. I’ve never told anyone this before, but it was never my first choice to be with Aaron. Okay, I’ll admit I wanted him, but I knew getting with Aaron would hurt Lauren. So that’s why I kept trying to get back with Steve Monroe. I hoped and hoped Steve and I could work things out, and if we did, I wouldn’t have to deal with the attraction to Aaron,” I sighed.
“But it was like I went from one bad thing to another bad thing, not realizing that just because I had another choice didn’t mean it was the best choice. So I just did what I convinced myself was okay to do. And now everything is a complete mess.”
“Tracey, I know it seems like things are out of control right now, but no matter what happens, everything, even bad things, must change. Nothing stays the same forever.” Derrick laughed. “Remember when we were first going together? The way we wanted to be in each other’s faces from eight in the morning to ten at night? We swore we’d never get tired of each other, that nothing could tear our love apart.”
I lowered my eyes, stunned that guys could admit such feelings. Amazed that even Derrick could hold fast to old memories, things I would have sworn he’d long forgotten.
“But after Lauren came along,” Derrick continued, “and when our lives radically changed, so did our feelings. All these new and complicated dynamics were thrown in the mix. Shoot,” he chuckled, “some days I felt like I was caught standing on a tidal wave that made me lose my balance in a way I could never regain.”
“Oh, you must be talking about how we are at each other’s throats a lot, right?”
“You know just what to do to get under my skin.”
I raised a skeptical eyebrow and cleared my throat.
“And vice versa,” he rushed to add.
“Amen to that,” I said. For a second I felt tense, as only another person’s heartfelt declarations can sometimes make me feel. And the truth of Derrick’s words was powerful enough not to be challenged. I couldn’t believe a person I’d once felt close to was one I ended up clashing with just about every time we saw one another. And it tripped me out to realize that Derrick resembled a female version of me. Strong, dedicated, passionate, and not easy to back down from the things he believed. When I thought about all the hurtful, spiteful words we’d exchanged throughout Lauren’s life, I felt ashamed. Wished I could retract the pain I’d caused in my life, his, and whoever else’s. Seemed like in the big scope of things, what I wanted was not all that important. That other people’s feelings counted just like mine.
“But see,” Derrick interjected, “the fact that we know the deal now, and that we’ve gained a little understanding about all this, it makes things seem less harried. Well, that’s how I feel, anyway.”
Useful words weren’t mine to add. I felt all I could do was listen and hope his beliefs and attitude would penetrate my own.
“And,” Derrick paused, choosing his words with caution, “I don’t care what has happened, Tracey. Try not to be too hard on yourself. Even if you made mistakes, I’m sure you did the best you could.”
I smiled and nearly fell out of my seat. But Derrick reached out and held me, tentatively at first, like a man who hasn’t touched a woman in years. But the longer he held me, the firmer his grip became. And the tighter Derrick squeezed, the more the tears streamed from my eyes.
“Damn, female problems,” I grunted and tried to wipe away my shame.
“Not female problems . . . human problems, Tracey. We all have ’em and we just gotta learn the best way to deal with them.”
I dabbed at my eyes with my hand. “I don’t know anybody who has problems like me.”
“Thank the Lord you don’t. He’d really be backed up, now wouldn’t He?”
A faint smile broke through my weary-looking face. I didn’t want to smile, but I had no other choice.
AFTER GETTING ON OUR KNEES AND praying quietly, Derrick and I said our good-byes. On my way to the car, Lauren’s welfare weighed on my mind. Was she all right? Did she feel she was a throwaway child, her life given up without a mother’s fight? I shuddered away the unanswered questions, started the car, and began driving through the church grounds. I traveled past a sign that was erected near one of the parking lot exits. The red brick sign bore the name Solomon’s Temple in white lettering. The days and times of church services were listed as well as the name London P. Solomon, the founder and senior pastor. I also noticed the monthly saying posted at the bottom of the sign:
Thinking beyond where you are will bring you out from where you are.
I read the sentence three times until I had it memorized and then I drove off.
SWEET SLEEP WAS AN UNREALIZED goal that night. It seemed I woke up every hour on the hour, listening for the phone to ring and getting up to go press my nose against the living room window. When that monotonous cycle played out, I crept to Lauren’s bedroom and kept expecting to find a sprawled-out lump underneath the covers, or to hear the obnoxious thump of rap music. God, how I wished I could hear Eminem, or Cypress Hill, or any noise at all coming from Lauren’s room.
The next morning was a no-brainer. I called in sick, and I was sick— sick and tired of being sick and tired. I didn’t like how things had turned out, didn’t like myself. I refused to look in the mirror when I went to wash my face and brush my teeth. I wished I could run and hide somewhere, in a place where no one would ever find me, a place where pain didn’t exist.
After sleeping through the morning, I got dressed and went for a ride. I ended up going to Auchan Hypermarket, not because I wanted to buy anything, but because I felt it would be better to go among people rather than to be isolated, musing over problems. Auchan is like a Wal-Mart SuperCenter: a retail store that sells groceries, housewares, electronics, and clothing. It was bustling with activity as usual, clogged with shoppers who represented every nation in the world, men and women shuffling their squeaky-wheeled shopping carts, pinching fruits and veggies and inhaling the aroma of baked breads. I eyed the cinnamon rolls, but pushed myself in another direction. After loitering for ten freezing minutes in the meat department, I decided to venture into a more temperature-friendly part of the store.
It was in the baby section that I noticed her. The last time I’d seen her was several months before, but I couldn’t forget her form. I still remembered our last encounter. She was holding a pastel yellow sleeper in her hands. Her stomach had grown much bigger from the last time I saw her. She still had on way too much makeup, and her tits were as swollen-looking as ever.
“That’s a cute sleeper. Do you know the baby’s gender yet?”
Lelani looked up at hearing my voice. At first she grimaced, then she lowered her eyelids and kept staring at the fabric clutched in her hands. I walked closer to her
. And as difficult as it was for me to do so, I began to rub her shoulder.
“It’s okay, Lani. I’m not here to battle with you.”
She peered at me from the corner of her eye.
“Believe it or not,” I told her, “I feel—I feel we can relate to each other.”
“What do you mean by that?” she asked, staring at my hand as I continued kneading her shoulder.
“Steve Monroe. He’s not what I thought he was.”
She laughed. “You have some nerve.”
I wanted to remove my hand, but forced myself to continue rubbing.
“Lani, now you know Steve is not right . . . or maybe you don’t know.”
“All I know is, you don’t know nothing.”
“Oh, but I do, Lani, and something tells me you know, too.”
Her sagging eyes told a story that I’d never want to witness, and right then she looked like she’d rather be anywhere but standing in that aisle facing me.
Old visions of Steve vanished from my mind and I smiled at Lelani and reached to embrace her. “Everything’s going to be all right, Lani.”
The second I touched her, Lani tensed, but I squeezed through her toughness, clasping her against my chest as if she was my dearest friend.
When I released her a few minutes later, a line of tears made its way down her cheek.
“Stupid bitch.”
“Lani—”
“I’m not talking about you.”
She turned away from me, but I could hear her moaning. Her shoulders were hunched over, weighted by things gone wrong.
I said a little prayer and made a quick left toward the electronics department. I started flipping through stacks of CDs. Not long afterward I detected an eerie presence behind me, a raspy breathing, then I felt a light rap on my shoulder.
I turned around.
Her face was a canvas of zigzagged streaks, white lines crawling like they had no other place to go. Her eyes were beady and red, reluctantly telling the story of a woman who’d seen more than she’d care to remember.
I gulped and raised my chin.
“You know, don’t you?”
“Yep,” she replied, lips trembling and forehead creased, almost looking like she’d burst into a fresh round of tears.
“Hey,” I said, looking around. “Let’s move to a more private spot. You wanna go sit in my car?”
She hesitated, but gave a slight nod. I returned the CDs to the bin and placed Lani’s timid hand in my own. When we began walking, Lani moved with difficulty.
We stopped by the side of my car.
“He always wanted Hayden more than he wanted me,” she murmured.
“That’s her name? Hayden?”
“Yep. Hayden is all I know. He never revealed her last name. Anyway, they’re common-law.”
“Oh yeah?” I shivered. “Since when?”
“Since the beginning of the year, might’ve been even sooner.”
“Well, who is she? Why her?”
“Ha! That’s the unsolved mystery. All I know is they met at Memorial City Mall a couple years ago. Steve would date her off and on just like he did me. But late last year he got into the habit of being away from his place for days at a stretch. I’d ask him where he’d been, and it was always ‘Working. Had some business to take care of out of town.’ Always something. But the deal was, he’d started shacking with her. Hayden already had their baby. She and their daughter had more immediate needs. I guess Hayden had always been the one he’d kept in the background and decided to bring to the forefront. Hmmm! All that time I thought I was the one he’d want long-term. Boy, was I ever a fool,” Lani said, staring into a world only she could see.
“Steve was the fool, the way he fooled everybody.”
“Who you telling? I never knew the nigga was gonna be fruitful and multiplying all over the place.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “Nothing really surprises me anymore these days. So, what are you going to do about . . .” I bit my lip and nodded toward her belly.
She raised her chin. “Life goes on, and this one here is a keeper. His name’s gonna be Dante August Thibodeaux. Yep, Thibodeaux.”
I stepped back and appraised Lani like she was a strong black woman. I was impressed that, in spite of obstacles, she had the power to remain focused on what was most important.
“Hey, Steve Monroe is welcome to put his name on the birth certificate, but if he doesn’t, fine with me. I don’t know. Quiet as it’s kept, I kinda got mixed feelings about this whole thing. I never wanted my son to grow up without a father, but how many of us end up having everything we want?”
I saw her swallow hard like all the cares of the world lived inside her soul.
“Well, Lani, if there’s anything I can do to help . . . I’d like to. I know it sounds bizarre, but I mean it. My heart goes out to you.”
She laughed and massaged the roundness of her swollen belly.
“How ’bout if you carry this load for me? That would help a lot.”
I laughed. “Somehow, Lani, I refuse to believe you’d allow me to do that.” I hesitated. “I could never take your place. No one could.”
She cocked her head. “What you trying to say? There’s only one Lelani, huh?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. And you know it’s the truth.”
We hugged once more and I reached in my wallet and handed her a designer call-me card.
“That’s my number. Let me know if you’re having a shower or if you need anything. Even if you don’t, I’m going to call you. We can hook up.”
“That’s cool with me, Tracey.”
She smiled and waddled away, and I slapped my hands over my mouth and listened to the crash of my purse hitting the ground.
“WELL, WHAT DO YOU WANT TO DO?”
“I don’t know. What do you want to do?”
“Aaron, that’s not good enough. Don’t you have a strong opinion about this?”
He didn’t say anything.
“Please don’t get quiet on me now. Just say whatever is rolling around inside that mind of yours.”
Aaron squirmed in his seat. It was Monday evening around six o’clock. He and I were sitting in my car in the visitors’ parking lot of Memorial Hermann Southwest. The windows were rolled down, and a cool breeze freshened the air.
“Look, I have a lot going on in my life, and right now my dad is the highest priority. I don’t know how to put this, but—”
“You don’t want us to be together any longer.”
“I’m not saying that.”
“You’re not saying it, yet you are saying it, Aaron. You’re afraid to hurt me after everything else I’ve been through. But if I can manage the other stuff, hey, I’m sure I can manage this, too.”
“Oh, Trace.”
“Don’t, Aaron. It’ll be cool. You go and look after your dad. I’ll be around if you need me.”
“I do need you, Tracey.”
“Don’t say that,” I murmured, and buried my forehead against his neck.
“I do, I do need you. I want you . . .” he said, grabbing me.
“It’s been real, Aaron, but . . .” I said, pulling myself away.
“Hey, we’ll still be friends?” he asked, his eyes filled with suspense.
“Always,” I told him. Then I unsnapped the locks and wondered what “always” meant.
“HELLO.”
“H-hi, Brad. This is Tracey Davenport. Is Lauren there?”
“Nope, she’s not.”
“What? Brad, please, please don’t play games. This is serious.”
“I am serious. Lauren’s not here . . . she never was here.”
“Look, you think I’m stupid? Put her on the phone right now.”
“Lauren’s not here, Ms. Davenport.”
I stood up. “Then where is my daughter?”
“Look, I—I can’t tell you where she is, but she’s fine. She’s in a better place.”
I gasped for breath and pu
shed out, “And what’s that supposed to mean?”
Brad hesitated. “She . . . I’ll have her call you.”
I hung up the phone feeling more confused than I’d been the past few days. I wanted to race over to Brad’s and shake the hell out of him. It seemed things were going from bad to worse, and frankly I didn’t know what to do.
But I steadied my nerves by going into my walk-in closet and lowering myself until I was on my knees. For the longest, nothing came out of my mouth. I felt ashamed, like I had a whole lot of nerve asking God for favors when I barely paid him respect through my recent lifestyle. But even though I may never be a finalist for a saint-of-the-year award, that didn’t stop me from believing in him. And if God could see me and realize I had a need, I hoped he could hear me. So I took a chance and whispered, “Gracious Father, please help us. Please.”
I closed my eyes tight, eclipsing my surroundings and at first perceiving nothing but total blackness. But the longer I prayed, the more an image developed in my mind. Instead of seeing things as they were— confusion, separation, and hurt—I begin to see them the way I yearned for them to be: reconciliation, peace, and understanding. Even though in the physical realm, things didn’t seem like they’d ever get there, I clung to a hope, an inner vision, that showed me something beyond what I could touch. Something that I knew could become tangible if I could only see past my present.
Thinking beyond where you are will bring you out from where you are.
Feeling a lot less burdened, I rose to my feet. I walked into the living area and looked toward Lauren’s room. Standing as still as I could, I tipped my head and smiled.
“Turn that music down, Lauren!” I yelled.
The lack of response didn’t bother me.
Instead of feeling discouraged, I went and set a table for two.
A FEW DAYS LATER, I HAD FALLEN into a deep sleep on the couch when the phone rang.
I stood up and looked at caller ID. It was Indira. I felt relieved to be able to talk to my support line. It had been a while since we’d talked, and it seemed like a good time for me to unload and get those supportive strokes that I craved.
