No More Tears

by Atieno Mzuri

  Jake, the guy I am currently seeing, I have been with him for 2 months now, suddenly withdrew the invitation to spend Christmas day with his family. I feel like a moron. I should have seen it coming from the way he evasively held his eyes as he fed me the bullshit line that he thought I should be with my own family.

  “Christmas is a day when you should be with your family.” he said. Like he was doing me a favor and imparting wisdom that I didn't know. But the catch was that I didn't have family. And he clearly knew that. Being privy of all my secrets. He knew that my family was still back in Africa.

  I was tempted at the time to force him to say out loud that he was uninviting me for whatever reasons that he had and that he ought to stop the bullshit lines that he was feeding me. But I held my tongue. I wanted to keep the relationship going. I certainly didn't want to be alone. I hated being alone. I wanted to die whenever I was alone.

  So it was with great amazing strength of will that I picked myself up and went into the bathroom and took a quick shower. And cried as I showered. I had honed the skill of crying in the bathroom.

  The New Year was here. Nothing significant had happened. I continued working for Dionne. Matt continued to sit in the parking lot. The only difference being that he had started to text me before he came. I would look out and see his car and if Dionne was home I would silently pray that she didn't notice a strange car hanging around.

  I was still Jake's weekend girl. We continued in this mode until February when Jake decided to break up with me.

  “It's over.” he said. I looked up, startled. This wasn't what I had been expecting to hear. Was it then just this morning when he had been talking about me moving into his house so that we could share bills and get engaged after staying together for six months?

  “It's over.” he repeated. “It's done with. We can't do this anymore. This nonsense has gone on for far too long. And I am done.”

  “What are you talking about?” I asked.

  “Your friend Matt. I don't want to deal with him again. You gave him information about me and he came after me and threatened my business and my employer and I don't want to be involved in your shit anymore. Sort it out for yourself. I am going to drop you wherever you want and I don't want you to contact me again.”

  We were standing at the park looking out at the lake. I didn't say anything. I continued looking out towards the lake. Counting the Hmong people as they walked by. Trying desperately to gain my composure. So that I wouldn't cry in front of this man that had so cruelly just come up and told me “pack your stuff, you are leaving my house. I don't want to see you anymore, I have had enough.” Not that I had much stuff there. I had finally been allocated one drawer in which I had two pairs of jeans a t-shirt and some underwear.

  He hadn't even been so tactical and polite and caring enough to give me the usual bullshit line that ladies and gents have come to expect. “It's not you, it is me.” Which would have given me a semblance of dignity and calmed me down as I would predictably take weeks to mull over and wonder what I had done. Instead he came straight to the point. “I am done. I can't take this nonsense anymore.”

  I couldn't cry. My heart suddenly went into selfprotection mode. I would not cry.

  He wasn't worth it.

  The relationship, if you can call it that had been fraught with pain and difficulty from the day we met.

  You might say we met in exceptionally difficult or different circumstances. And perhaps that's why it was coming to such a bad end. It was predestined to end badly. For it began badly. Without a shred of honesty on both our pats. We were not being forthright with each other. At least I wasn't .

  And knowing him as I had come to know him over the last several weeks and having ignored all the red alerts I had only myself to blame.

  From the day I found out his issues with the IRS I knew he hadn't been forthright and honest and anything else with me. He had used me and then conveniently dumped me. As I looked into his gray cold eyes and white face, and slightly balding hair brushed forward in the most unusual manner such that it formed what most people would consider like the little helmet that a chicken, or is that called a crest that the chicken, cock has on its head, as I looked into his eyes, dead of emotion and looking like a killer's eyes, I knew I had made a terrible mistake and should have listened to my first instincts about him. I hesitate to call him a human being because he had the heart of a cold gravedigger. And he was throwing me headfirst into the grave.

  Jake, 57 years old, married once, divorced, picked every woman that he could, preying on women that were in a vulnerable position, picking them from nightclubs and from dating sites. I had met him on a dating site and egged on by the man that I lived with at the time, who had said that he wanted what was best for me. Even though I still lived in Matt's house, I went ahead and put myself out of there. And that's how I had come to meet the scumbag that was now in my face and telling me that it was over and I should move on.

  My knees were about to give way. So I moved to the bench a few feet away and sat down. My heart was hammering like crazy.

  What would I do next?

  Chapter Twenty One (Jake Leaves, Enter Michael) Jake had said he didn't want to see me anymore. I didn't see any reason to fight his unilateral decision.

  Jake and I went back to his house and I packed my few belongings and I swung the light bag on my shoulder and I did the final walk of shame with grace and dignity. In the car, I maintained my composure and chatted cheerfully. From the time I had discovered the unpaid taxes I had known there was no future here, but I had needed his company for the weekends just so I could have somewhere to stay.

  When I settled down at Dionne's house on my little twin bed, it occurred to me that once again I was all alone. Matt telephoned me later that night to find out how I was doing. I knew he was behind this breakup since Jake had been very clear about it. We talked a little and he said he would forever love me and was looking out for me. Angrily I told him it really was time to stop looking out for me.

  "Babe, I will always be here. Now that you're out of the picture, I can finally hit back at Jake for trying to snatch my girl. You were not supposed to fall in love with him. Don't you remember that? You and I were going to be lovers forever. "

  He hang up after telling me to hang in there. To this day I don't know what he told Jake, but suffice it enough to say that on Tuesday, Jake called me and practically begged me to forgive him and could I please continue to see him. I knew it was a fight between the two men and I was being used to settle a grudge. I didn’t really care at this point but I knew I would need a place to go for the weekend to escape the madness in Dionne’s house, so I said yes, he could pick me on Saturday as usual and yes, we would spend the weekend together and he would bring me back on Tuesday morning.

  Somehow I got through the week. It was difficult chasing around the kids. They had become used to my inability to discipline them. Dionne was getting more frustrated with me. I knew this arrangement couldn't survive another six months if we both stretched it. I would have to look for another job or restart my search for a husband.

  I had started talking to more guys online. I was still using the same website but I had changed my profile. One of the guys I was talking to, Michael lived about 50 miles away and somehow because of his work commitments we had been unable to set up a date.

  Who is it who said when a door closes, then several windows that you hadn't thought about open? But the thing is, you have to be proactive and open the windows yourself. So it came to pass that I was going to see Jake on Saturday and then he would bring me back on Sunday evening and on Monday I would go out with Michael.

  On Saturday Jake was prompt. I was ready. He always found me ready as I craved escape from Dionne's house. I had always taken the backseat on our dates and let Jake take control and plan each minute. This time I knew I had nothing to lose.

  So I said we were going shopping. And shop we did. He carried the parcels from shop to shop and I did
the diva walk as I picked and discarded and his credit card was swiped over and over again.

  Then when it came to time for going out I said nah ah ah no more Blue Nile. Let's head to Eden Prairie. Whence we club hopped. Mark you he was paying a fee at every club. And I wasn't on Coca-Cola. I was choosing wines based on price. When we finally got home and he tried his usual clinical styles I decided I was going to take charge and grab my pleasure.

  Lately I have learnt that there's a style known as snake style. If I had known it at that time I would have used it. I was taking and taking and pleasuring myself. In the morning Jake was too tired to go to the gym, and for the first time in our relationship, he drove to the store and bought some eggs and miscellaneous foodstuffs and he cooked and served me as I slept in.

  We stayed home and played scrabble and talked and played more scrabble. I then put together all my new items and mockingly asked him if there was anything I had forgotten. He went across the room and opened the drawer that he had taken back from me and said that if I wished I might leave some clothes to wear the coming weekend. I said no it was alright I would just come back with them. He dropped me back at Dionne's and I told him it was fine I would see him the next weekend. I went into the house and the kids followed me. By this time I had learned that gummy bears and gummy worms can turn kids into ardent fans. Those $2 gummies had fast become my best friend in managing the kids.

  Next morning Michael came to pick me up for our date. Michael had driven 50 miles to get to where I was. He lived in an area up north where he was surrounded by corn farms. He arrived looking rather shabby but I sensed that he was wearing his best, being a country man and all.

  “So, what do you usually do for fun?” he asked.

  “Not much.” I gave the one word response.

  Michael and I were on our first date and he had brought me to the old District.

  We walked past a few of the pubs and found ourselves in a dark Arabic themed place. He ordered for the drinks. I didn't know what to choose. All the names sounded pretty much the same to me. The cocktails, the screwdrivers, the hellbenders, the only difference seemed to be in the cost and even that wasn't much of a pointer of what to expect. A few cents' difference between each of them.

  “We should get married. Marry me.” he said as he studied me intently.

  “I accept.” I said trying to make it seem like a joke. But in my heart, I was thinking, oh shit, I wish you really meant it. I would marry you tomorrow you old twit. I really would.

  Okay stop here and take a long pause. That really was how the proposal happened.

  At the time I thought he was joking but as we continued talking on phone, now on a daily basis, Michael said that during our next date we would work out the details of our coming wedding. I was alternating between despair and hope. Hope that he would marry me, and despair that he would find out something about me, perhaps from Matt who was still actively stalking me and then he would do a disappearing act on me.

  The next weekend, I had thought I would see Michael and we would start to plan for our wedding. But that Friday he called and said he had to go to Texas unexpectedly. And he wouldn't be back until Wednesday. Oh there we go, I thought. Another one takes off.

  On Saturday Jake picked me and we spent the weekend with me taking control once again. I was finally beginning to have fun with him. Not once had Jake ever told me he loved me. The nearest he had come to this was one time when he had said he cared deeply about me. And that he liked me. I had responded in a similar fashion. Laden with shopping bags I returned on Monday evening to Dionne's house and of course said that yes I would be quite pleased to see him over the weekend.

  On Wednesday evening Michael called and said he was back in town and if I could get time off the next morning, we could drive down to the license office and pay for a marriage license. I pleaded with Dionne to let me have the day off. Since she hadn't been planning to go to work, she was okay with it.

  At the License Office I was required to show identification papers. It was lucky for me that they accepted the papers my sister had sent me which had been notarized as true copies of my lost originals.

  I had the marriage license in hand. But the wedding hadn't happened. It's not over until the fat lady sings, isn't that what they say?

  On Saturday morning I called Jake and told him that Dionne had picked up extra shifts and I had agreed to stay home. And I got into Michael's car and drove to the countryside. And we spent the weekend touring the country, looking at the farms, stopping at lakes and eventually ended up at a winery where they had some wine tasting going on.

  I believe one is supposed to swirl it around the glass and then sip it and speak using terms like mellow, sweet, tangy, earthy, corky as one contributes to the intelligent discussion on the body of the wine. What the hell? Tasting is for the birds, I thought, as I swirled into my mouth instead of around the glass.

  I was therefore suitably mellow as I let Michael have his way that night. We were not going to wait for the honeymoon night after all.

  A week later I bought a hat. For my wedding I had decided I would wear one of the dresses that Jake had bought for me. I hadn't seen him for three weekends now. Every weekend I had told him that I couldn't make it because Dionne was working. And I had enjoyed hearing him plead, saying couldn’t I just tell Dionne that I needed just this weekend off? Knowing how Jake scheduled his weekends to the second, I knew he was at a loose end and extremely inconvenienced at the lack of a weekend girl. But I didn’t care. I was on a mission to get married to Michael. And if it didn’t work out, if for some last minute reason the marriage was cancelled, I would go back to being Jake’s weekend girl.

  So that weekend, I had instead spent time with Michael putting the last details together. I didn’t have any guests to invite but Michael had about ten friends and family that he wanted to bring along.

  "Speak now or forever hold your tongue"

  On a bitterly cold wintry April day, .the lady officiating the wedding said. She looked around at the small audience of ten people gathered solemnly in the cold chapel.

  It was April , and it was biting cold. I couldn't feel my toes, my legs were about to give way and the cold frosty air working its way into the depth of my stomach and my very soul was suffocating. Here I was at my own wedding getting married to a man I had known for barely a month. I gasped for breath and looking up found everyone eyes were on me. This wasn't going well, i thought.

  "Speak now or forever hold your tongue." the lady repeated and gave the audience a big smile.

  Eeh... I began and involuntarily my hand started to go up. Then I did a slight gasp. I put down my hand quickly and managed a bright smile.

  My entire life I had dreamed of my wedding. Postcard picture perfect it would be. A thousand guests. The crème de la crème of society would be in attendance fawning over me, paying their respects, jostling for pictures with me, the ecstatic bride. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. This hidden away hole that we had reserved for $50 and the wedding officiator that we were paying $19 an hour to declare us man and wife.

  "You're such a joker. I love that about you, weird sense of humor."

  "Yeah right." I agreed and fixed my smile.

  I looked at the man standing next to me, my new husband. And then I laughed hysterically. I had nearly stopped my own wedding but as I had thought to say something, Matt's s imploring eyes begged me not to ruin it. My whole miserable life depended on getting through the ceremony and getting the piece of paper. From now on, it would be easy.

  The ten of us walked out of that gray chapel and my new husband held my hand and helped me walk across to the car.

  As I got into the car, with my husband holding open the door, Matt who had been my only guest came up and gave me a neatly wrapped present.

  "Congratulations. " he said simply as he melted away.

  Later when I opened the gift, I found my passport and my certificates.

  There was just one final task that
I had to do. I logged onto Facebook and changed my status from "single" to "married".

  Sat back and waited. And within ten minutes there was a text from Jake "What are you talking about? Did you really get married? How? Why didn't you wait for me? I told you I only needed six months."

  I didn't text back. I sat back and waited to lead my new life.

  Chapter Twenty Two (Room Outside The House)

  Michael and I had been living together for five months. This evening he had returned from work and found me sitting on the patio.

  “Let's move to Miami, Florida. I want to be closer to my daughter and help her out. She is not doing so well right now.” he says to me.

  I don't say anything. Instead without a word I turn around and enter my room. Yes, I do have my own room in this house. It is not really a house in the sense of the word. It is a shack that was put together by the man that I have lived with for the last five months.

  There is no running water. It is the only house in the whole of America which has no running water. We have to fetch water in Jerri cans from the lady next door. Sometimes when I am carrying the water, I truly believe I am back in Africa. But even in Africa I had running water. Of course that was at the discretion of the City Council but at least on a few days I had some running water and could store enough for till the next time.

  But here we have to ferry the water every day. And most of the time they, Michael and his daughter, they leave these chores to me.