Simultaneously, April looked at me and asked, in the state of incredulity herself, “She called you a dumb bimbo?”
I guess she, too, was caught off guard by the accusation. Clearly, Tara had no idea of my credentials. Shit—who was I to rain on her parade by explaining that the man she’s obviously obsessed with isn’t with a hood-rat that would make her feel superior?
I had to get out of there. Though mad as hell, I decided to play along.
I pulled out my wallet, dropped a crisp $100 bill on the table, stood to get square in Tara’s face—as close as her swollen belly would allow.
“Ladies, that’s for the bill, courtesy of Divine. As for you, if it wasn’t for this belly I would mop this bitch with your fucking face. Do ya’self a favor, check my record before confronting me like this. I thought you should know that.”
Just before I turned to walk away, I noticed staff members of the restaurant as well as other well dressed women charging towards our table.
Tara sputtered, “She called him Divine! I knew she was a hood-rat!”
I purposely referred to him by his street moniker to further her assumption of who I was. I could deduce she was having a baby shower because from my peripheral view I could see balloons and a few other women still sitting in an area adjacent to ours.
That bitch had a good view of me and I had no idea she was in the room.
I felt like it was all too much hitting me at once. I couldn’t take the extra drama. I think it was then that I subconsciously questioned my decision to work things out with Azmir. I’d planned on telling him about Michelle’s passing later that day. Those plans got derailed after my run in with Tara’s ass.
After leaving the restaurant, I returned to my office. I had patients to see. Because of my absence for Michelle’s death and funeral and then my hospital stint we were backed up. Many of my patients declined to see my proxy while I was out and therefore I had extended my hours to catch up. I had nothing better to do.
I felt like a huge part of me had gone with Michelle’s death and Erin’s departure from my life. Amber told me after the funeral in so many words to not call her about visiting Erin, she’d call me. I knew that meant I was locked out of her life. I feared this during Michelle’s last days but was too afraid to stress her out with putting something together ensuring that I’d stay an intrinsic part of Erin’s life. I knew if I stood any chance at seeing Erin I’d have to hire an attorney. I’d just hoped that would work.
All is fair in love and war, right? Right.
I had become so depressed. It was such a contradicting cocktail of emotions. I wanted to be alone to deal with my loss yet at the same time the deceased would never approve of the method of my grieving. I eventually realized how in our final conversation, Michelle was pleading with me to open my heart to trust another individual other than her so that she could rest in peace. The enormity of my emotional handicap must have been extremely stressful for her. As much as I wanted to honor Michelle’s final wishes, the situation with Tara was pulling on me. I was in so much pain.
In a rare act, I called back home to check on Chyna only to learn that my father had succumbed to a long bout with prostate cancer. I didn’t feel compelled to pay my last respects, only to be there to support my sister. Chyna sounded so choked up. She said she’d been trying to contact me for weeks to let me know he had taken a turn for the worse. I suddenly recalled how I’d been virtually living with Michelle since my birthday. I’d only shared my home number with my family. Was that really the last time I’d checked in with her? I told her that I’d be right out there.
Two days later, I was checking into Embassy Suites not too far from the airport. I called to track down Chyna but got my grandmother instead.