The nurses asked how would I get home and explained that for liability reasons I could not drive myself. They placed me in a cab to go home when I was discharged only for me to catch a cab back to the hospital to pick up my car. I went to work the very next day as if nothing happened. I was a zombie.
A week later found me at Katsuya having lunch with Britni and April. They asked to meet to—I’d guessed—grieve together. I wasn’t interested in group bereavement but would do anything to honor Michelle’s life and if that meant putting up with her friends for a couple of hours, I would do just that.
“I just can’t believe she’s gone. This has been a fucked up week. Who’s going to replace her?” Britni moaned, her face was pale bringing full attention to her red nose. She looked to have been crying for days.
She annoyed the hell out of me the most. Why would you think of replacing a friend? I know people don’t always know the right thing to say when death occurs but come on! I just played with the straw in my glass of unsweetened raspberry tea while staring down at the table.
“That’s just it, Brit…no one could ever replace her. We just need to find a way to move on. She would want that.” That was provided by April. She seemed to have a little more sense than her bestie. I was being tortured during this tête-à-tête between them.
We sat quietly for a few minutes. I had nothing to offer and wasn’t in the mood to improvise. April broke the ice by saying, “Rayna, I know this comes at a loss for us but I know you will be greatly affected by this. You two were like sisters.”
After taking a few seconds to process what she said, I knew my time of silence had expired, I needed to contribute or be considered rude and insensitive to Michelle’s friend.
I offered, “Ladies, it’s definitely going to be a rough period ahead but we have to muster the strength to get through. Michelle was a mighty force who left an imprint on all of our lives. We have memories of her that can last a lifetime. As long as those memories last, she will live on. I find peace in knowing that.” Yeah, a mouthful considering I didn’t have shit to offer.
Britni’s eyes began to swell up and April went to console her with a hug. Britni struggled to say, “There are so many questions like who’s going to care for Erin and what’s going to happen to her house…” before her voice teetered off due to the enormity of emotions that rushed in.
After a pause I attempted, “There are many things that we don’t know as of yet—” but I was interrupted.
“Yes! There are lots of things we don’t know about the man we’re fucking. Like, let’s see…ahhhh—yeah! Like he’s a damn thug in Burberry business suits. Did you know that, sweetie? Or that everything you benefit from being with him is a result of my hard work and training!”
It was that bitch, Tara. By the time she paused, several of her girlfriends had appeared, frantically trying to pull her away from our table. This made her get even louder. Seeing her was the last thing I needed at that moment, I’d been hanging on by a thread.
“You may be into ballers so you probably don’t give a damn about any of that, but just in case you have a shred of decency in you, I thought you should know so that you can run the other way,” Tara continued in her tyranny.
As she spewed this directly in my face, I just sat there looking at her in complete stoicism with incredulity. It was obvious that Tara didn’t know how to read my reaction and it pissed her off.
She continued, “Oh, I get it! Dumb bimbos like you can’t even comprehend the help that I’m giving to make the right decision. Pitiful! All you broads know how to do is swing those legs up in the air and fall to your knees!”
Although Tara disgorged street jargon, you could tell by her delivery that she was a valley girl. Her words weren’t threatening, but she was bold. Really audacious—each time I saw her.
Her one associate yelled, “Tara, that’s enough! She doesn’t want any trouble. You’re acting very ghetto in here.”
And another followed with, “Tara, you’re pregnant. He’s not worth it!”