“Yes, ma’am,” I returned, barely covering the cry that I refused to release.
On my way over to Karen’s, driving old Bessie, my mind churned. It was my first day out of the house since Stenton dropped me off. The day my world turned black. It had been the longest period of my life that I held my breath. I thought the wait to hear back from my early application submission to Princeton was the longest period. Nope. It was waiting out this era of pain. Because it would leave eventually, right? I mean time healed everything, right?
Little did I know, I’d be holding that breath for years to come.
I spent the first few days praying for the relief. And when I say praying, I mean tarrying. I tarried for days, chanting one word: Please. Please, God remove this pain. Never in my life did I feel so bleak. I saw sunlight nowhere. I prayed harder than I ever had in life to remove the weights of my heart and to fill the pit of my belly that echoed its emptiness. I had absolutely no idea what to do with the pain I felt. I had no reference other than Angela who still wasn’t speaking to me. Certainly she felt this when she learned of Timmy’s infidelity. How she handled it wasn’t something I was up for, but at least she had an idea of what it felt like to have her heart ripped from her chest.
I wanted to talk with my mom. In a perfect world I could, but then I’d have to admit to falling into something that I perceived to be more with Stenton. I knew that wasn’t the truth. I knew that man loved me. I knew he felt every bit of the love we made each time we did. I knew each time he prepared to enter me when we made love, he held an unvaried admiration for me. I knew the fierce grip he held me in his arms with each time he embraced me after we were done exploding on and into one another was because he wanted to be stapled in that place with me and only me. I knew the way he’d simply speak my name when he called me, that he loved the core of me. He knew me, the real Elizabeth, and not the mask I wore for everyone else. I knew him, the real Stenton Rogers that everyone regarded as a statue and not a living man.
I pulled up to the garden apartment complex, grateful to find parking. When Karen opened the door the first thing she uttered was, “My god, Zo! You look like you met Satan head on.”
Her mouth remained suspended and I stood there, for once, not having a comeback. Karen had beautiful brown skin. She was shorter than Angela and me with a nice set of boobs and a round apple of a booty. You’d never be able to tell she’d just had a baby a few months ago. I hadn’t seen her much outside of church. It felt good looking down at her short stature again. I gave a small but genuine half a smile. She stepped aside, inviting me to come in.
“You just missed Angela,” she offered from behind me. My heartbeat sped up at that. I hadn’t heard from Angela in months. “She left when I told her I’d be expecting you at this hour.”
I exhaled long and harshly as I grabbed the bridge of my nose.
“So, BJ is in training for his new job?” I asked, trying to change the conversation.
“Yup, Wal-Mart is promoting him to shift manager.” Karen didn’t sound so thrilled. “Hang on. I need to check on the baby. Have a seat and make yourself at home.”
When Karen returned, she sat on the love seat next to me and went right to it. “My mom thinks you’re having some type of delayed emotional reaction to Angela and me getting pregnant and married. She said that you’re feeling abandoned and possibly even going through some identity crisis. Is that what’s going on with you, Zo?”
I closed my eyes and slowly shook my head. “What are you talking about? Why is Aunt Jenny diagnosing me?”
“You know they talk: my mom, your mom and Auntie Bridget.”