Revelation.
9 months
The old passed away, a new conceived.
Simultaneously;
breaking the silence, and giving birth to my mystery man.
She disclosed
that he lived 2 separate lives
2 households
And then a then a 3rd
Contraction.
...baby on the way…
In
10 different voices
the once unspoken truth, now spoke of tales of 3 year love affairs, late night ventures, unprotected seduction, while loving him loving them loving him.
Notes of
money spent
Heartfelt stories of
love taken for granted
Watching
time being wasted
Contraction.
I had no clue
Just a mere inkling and my woman intuition
Then premonitions visited my dreams:
I saw his phone, discovered the truth...
Just weeks prior to THIS
then
my dreams coincided with my reality,
and the startling revelation hit me…reverberating
AngerHurtConfusionConfusionHurtAnger
Disappointment.
Reality set in.
The names were accompanied by faces; a myriad of the beautiful queens of the human races
Contraction.
A phone call ensued, with the claim of a stalker initially explained until…
The follow-up.
And,
to my astonishment, my mystery man openly divulged to me the naked truth.
Contracting, my ear swallowed many accounts of mayhem prolonged…
And then
By some calculated fate he came to realize his mistakes
Eventually,
subduing his desires of the flesh, refusing to continue to par(take)
never giving
he knew too much was at stake/the price too high
so my beloved said good bye to the former…
Pushing,
the old passed away,
a new life
begun
Chapter 1
5:02pm. I routinely insert my key into the lock of my apartment door number 6401.
Sigh…
Home! Friday, the start of a fabulous weekend. Hmmm… What to do tonight? I ponder as I enter into my haven.
Tossing the keys on the granite counter top, I set my purse atop the middle barstool nestled neatly amid its two taller matches. Removing the worn pumps my feet have been badgering the past 10 hours, I begin to massage my overworked, underpaid feet.
This has been one of the longest days of my life. My mind urges. Bzzzz. Bzzzzz. Bzzzz. Derailed from the train of thought, I instinctively retrieve my BlackBerry from the charger: “Cousin, what are we doing tonight?” the text message reads.
Reply. “Our usual spot. Santana Row, here we come!”
I smile to myself reminiscing on the many Santana Row ventures my cousin Robert and I have shared…
Folding my hands on the familiar oak table, I gazed out the massive window situated to my right; my eyes greeted the water and matched its dance. As the waves gently swayed, hues of tangerine orange and fiery red began to subside with the submersion of plum purple.
My gaze still intertwined with the water, I belted out “I am done. I’ve had enough of the lies and the drama.” Breaking from my dance, I then focused my attention on my cousin Robert.
With no forewarning, he chuckled urging me to continue.
“I am tired of Ben, the chaos, and this confusion. My intuition has been telling me for months that something is terribly wrong. Would you believe that some woman had the audacity to answer his phone yesterday when I called him on his lunch break?”
I asked unfolding my hands which had since gathered a small collection of sweat particles.
“WHAT?” Robert inquired in a high whisper, arching his right brow. He leaned in closer to keep the conversation discreet.
Shifting my eyes toward the left, I paused for a moment noting our waitress in close proximity. As she drifted by, I grew restless. Offering no words assuring us that she’d be with us momentarily, I gathered that she must be new.
Yea, she has to be. I’ve never seen her here before, and besides, what seasoned waiter leaves their table waiting 10 minutes for a drink of water? My eyes exited from the back of her red up-do, and caught my cousin’s eager stare.
“Yea, that’s what I said to the woman who answered his phone. How in the World can
you be
my husband’s girlfriend?” I affirmed, voice now flux.
My eyes then diverted toward my left again. “Excuse me waiter,” Raising my hand, I impatiently motioned for the young red head.
I watched her raise a finger as an offering of her presence momentarily.
“And what was
his excuse?” Robert asked tilting his head slightly, an indication that he was clearly bothered.
I gave him a sarcastic smile before continuing:
“Well, you know my
dear husband assured me that an infatuated co-worker is trying to wreak havoc on our marriage.”
As I glanced at the time displayed on my phone’s screen:
9:08p, I massaged my temples as my frustration began to build with both the stagnant waitress and the painful divulgence.
My newly applied acrylic French tipped nail began to beat a soft melody against the table.
“Well, do you believe him?”
I let out a subtle sigh… “My heart believes him, Lord knows I love my husband. But… my mind keeps telling me otherwise. If this were the first time, then maybe I could accept his excuse. But, after 9 months of these
incidental occurrences, I’m not so sure IBzzzzz. Bzzzz. Bzzzzzz. My Blackberry’s notification distracts the conversation. Scrambling around my purse, I retrieved the phone to see Ben’s name on the display.
“One second cousin, I have to answer this call. It’s Ben,” I explained giggling at the irony.
Hitting the answer button, I connected the phone to my ear:
“Hello?”
Silence countered my greeting.
“Ben?” I asked ignoring my cousin’s steadfast stare.
Our lines disconnect.
As I hit the re-dial button, a buzz jolted my phone before the call could re-connect.
“Here is your water, I am terribly sorry for the wait. Are you ready to order now?” Our absent waiter asks finally making her grand appearance.
Go figure. I glanced at her awkwardly for a moment not easily swayed by her forced smile, and returned my gaze to the plum water.
“Ben, are you okay baby?” I asked with sincere concern.
“Thank you. Can we have a moment or two please?” I captured my cousin’s voice as an unfamiliar one simultaneously spoke:
“Yes, he is just fine.” A woman’s voice said as hysterical laughter ensued.
The call disconnected once more.
Turning blood red, my face broke out into a feverish temperature.
“What’s wrong Lisa?” Robert asked concerned.
“Nothing. Everything. Let’s just go.” I responded without meeting his eyes.
I snatched my cousin’s right hand into my left, spewed out five dollars for the now delivered once delayed water, and left our amateur waiter lingering onto her note pad in dismay.
5:12pm. Wiping away the nostalgic images, I plug my Blackberry into the charger located in the outlet behind the barstool where my purse lies, and rush down the hallway to my bedroom.
What to wear, what to wear? Pulling back the finicky mirrored closet doors, I begin to ponder.
I’m feeling quite divaesque this eve…Red? No. Form-fitting dress? Not tonight. Hmmmm. Oh, here it is: purple silk blouse, Italian silk bubble skirt that situates just above the knee, and 3 –inch leopard print heels; Mission accomplished! Rushing to shower, I pass the dated 1999 clock radio, and glance at the time,
5:31. Okay, I’ve got roughly an hour and a half; I need to make it to the South Bay no later than 7:30. I decide.
6:23, I look into the mirror admiring the beauty before me.
I look like a million bucks! I ascertain, marveling at the baby faced, all woman body reflected in the mirror. My thought is cut short as I catch the time blaring from the clock radio:
6:28.
Shoot, I still have to stop and get gas. Where is my leopard print purse? Frantically searching, my mind pinpoints its location after several mishaps:
Oh yea, I let my baby sis Justine use it. I guess I’ll have to settle for the black clutch; that neglected thing needs some use anyway. Retrieving the clutch amid the myriad of other handbags atop my closet shelf, I discover a prescription bottle nestled inside its confines. Examining the bottle, my eyes affix on a name.
Stacy Kirk, the label reads. My hands convulse in fury losing grip on the bottle; as it meets the floor seconds later, round white pills fly erratically. Freezing in a temporal trance, my mind retreats back to recent memory…
75, 80, 90mph my Infiniti pushes...
“Cousin, slow the hell down before you kill us!!!!” Robert caveats in terror.
Silence.
That darn bastard! My mind sped up with the pace of the car. I felt blood shoot up to meet my brain.
“What the heck is wrong with you woman? Have you lost your damned mind?!” He shouted in frustration.
I grunted.
I’m gonna kill him!! I reasoned, beginning to conjure a scheme:
I’ll park a block away so he doesn’t notice me. No, I’ll have my cousin drop me off, and make th“Lisa, talk to me please!” Stunting my plot, Robert began to shake my shoulder with a sense of urgency, as he pleaded in desperation.
My eyes remained steadfast on the road, pulsating out of their sockets.
Silence.
I’ll have my cousin drop me off a few houses away and make the block. By the time he circles around, I should be done. My mind re-wanders.
Just 10 more minutAbruptly, Robert tackled the wheel in a panicked frenzy…
Snapping back into reality, I impulsively pick up the bottle which now consists of only three tablets, and toss it into the clutch along with sixty dollars cash, a tube of clear lip gloss, my well-used cosmetic mirror, driver’s license, and a small bottle of hand sanitizer. Retrieving my keys from the countertop, I check the time once more
6:32pm, and hit the door heading toward Interstate 880.
7:17, I pull up to Robert’s two-story mustard and sage brick condo. Parking in front of a neighboring home, I exit my car and catch a view of his emerging silhouette.
“Lisa, you are killing them!!” My cousin utters swirling me around to get a 360 view of my attire. “Look at you all diva’d up, you look fabulous!”
I smile modeling 20 of my snow white Colgate’s.
“It’s been some time. I think I deserve it, don’t you think? It is long over due.”
I embrace my cousin’s chiseled 5’11 frame as though it’s the last time I’ll ever see him again.
“And you are fashionably clad yourself might I add” I chuckle admiring his dark grey, double-breasted Alfani suit.
“Well you know how we do it cousin,” Robert contends flicking his collar as he stepped back into a model stance as if he were posing for paparazzi. He let’s out a hearty laugh refuting my mere chuckle.
“Your car or mine?” I ask dancing my fingers through my curly locs.
“Well, I suppose yours would be the only one befitting for all of this fabulosity” He joked spinning around before trotting off in the direction of my Q45.
“Ok, let’s go.” I said clinging onto his right arm with my left as if my life depended on it. I secure my clutch in a chokehold under my right arm, setting off for the South Bay’s prestige Santana Row strip as my mind quickly detours…
My black 2004 Infiniti Q45 swerved just missing the center divide.
“What in the hell are you thinking? Are you trying to kill us??” My lungs peaked as I reclaimed control of the vehicle.
Heart beating with ferocity, I drum out “What would possess you to do something so stupid? You are an idiot!” Now singing, the reverberation of my lungs produced a high pitched melody.
My cousin’s hazel eyes glared at me. Parting his lips, he snapped “Woman, if you ever in your life check out on me again, I will personally kill you myself before we can even make it to John George.”
I began to laugh in hysteria until a river of tears conjured a waterfall which cascaded down my face, and landed into the sea of my lap.
“Are you bi-polar? One minute your crazy behind is dazed out, the next you’re yelling at me, and now your psycho self just went from laughing to crying. I am concerned, this is abnormal. Did you stop taking your meds?” He concluded, laughing at his own humor.
I wiped my tear-soaked face with the back of my hands and stared intently into Robert’s eyes.
“I’m not crazy, but right now I do feel insane.” I explained grabbing his left hand into mine. “After tonight, just make sure that I’m prescribed a lifetime supply of psych meds.” I calmly finished before returning my eyes to the highway.
Hegenberger Road the sign read,
almost there. I mashed on the gas and set-off once more determined to reach my initial destination…
7:42pm. Re-capturing the time on my Blackberry, Robert and I enter through the glass doors of Le Bass, as a medley of seafood immediately welcomes us, attacking our nostrils.
Hmmm I think, inhaling the sweet-smelling aroma of crab, lobster, and shrimp creations. My mouth starts to water as we approach the reservation booth.
“Table for two, please.” Robert’s baritone voice requests of the greeter.
Glancing at us, she smiles nervously. “Um, sure Sir. Just give me a few moments to clear a table, and I promise to be with you momentarily.”
“Thank you.” I slyly retort recalling the face of the amateur red-head.
Mira her gold name tag reads.
Not tonight, Mira, please not tonight. I am in no mood for this.
Turning around, I note the look of amusement on Robert’s face smiling in childlike glee. I ignore his wit, and usher him toward the restaurants bar immediately adjacent to us.
Removing my trench and setting in on the back of the plush leather barstool, I fold my hands in front of me and rest my chin upon them.
“So, how has life been treating you cousin?” Robert inquires nestling his foot on the bottom rail of my stool.
“Rough.” I say sighing, slightly twisting right to left in my seat. “Quite rough. My hearing is scheduled for Tuesday, and I’m not certain what will come of it, but all I can do is pray that the charges are acquitted.” I continue, closing my eyes for a few moments in silent prayer. I open my eyes and rumble through my purse seeking the bottle of Tylenol I presume would assuredly alleviate this oncoming migraine.
“Well, you could have fooled me; you look absolutely stunning this evening.” He suggests giving me a one over. “It will be okay cousin, just keep leaning on the Lord and know that this too shall pass.” He consoles me, gently gliding his hand up and down my back.
Roberts comforting words embrace my heart.
“Can I have a glass of water with no ice please?” I ask the aged bartender.
He looks about 75. Poor guy, he should be retired by now. I reason.
“And I will have a glass of Mondavi Merlot please.” Robert insisted. Glancing in the near distance, he eyed a voluptuous beauty nearing us. Her hips swaying like nobody’s business, his stare greets every asset of her robust figure.
I leave him to marvel, opting to spark a conversation with the silver-haired, pale-skinned bartender instead.
“How are you this evening Sir?” I ask as he places a glass of room temperature water in front of me.
I quickly retrieve two Tylenol pills from the bottle, and gulp them down with several sips of water.
“I am wonderful dear, thank you so kindly for asking.” His shaky voice asserts. Tossing his towel over his shoulder, he scans the inventory of wines.
Retreating to the 40-inch flat screen located in front of us, the Niner/Cowboy game pauses for break as the time flashes across the screen.
7:50
“Your table is now ready.” Mira says, attempting a willful smile as she approached us.
“Thank you Mira, as soon as my beloved cousin finishes awing his love interest, we will be ready.” I say laughing.
“Excuse me?” Robert cuts his attention from his new interest to offer an equal laugh.
Retrieving my coat from the back of the seat, I look up to see the voluptuous beauty Robert was once admiring, now before us. “Hello” she greeted, smiling at me with inquiring eyes. I catch a glimpse of her wavy, jet black, waist length hair. “Hello” I gesture moving my eyes toward her neckline which prominently displays a diamond encrusted “B” dangling from a white-gold chain.
She looks familiar. Have I met her before? I’ve seen someone else with a necklace similar to that one. Prodding my brain, I don’t bother to notice Robert whip out his Iphone.
She must be one of his old girlfriends from college. Hook-ups he used to refer to them as. Still confused, I stammer toward the table awaiting us, and leave Robert to tend to his business while my mind concedes to a daydream…
Arriving home minutes later, I instructed Robert to remain in the car until my return.
“Are you sure everything will be okay?” he questioned as I bolted from the vehicle leaving his question unanswered.
Heaving to catch my breath, I rested one hand on the door while using the other to insert the key into my apartment door. As the door flung open, time nervously ceased; I stand in cold shock, frozen in dismay…
Vindictive.
Clearly indicative of the pain that's been bestowed upon her
Love to her is quite eminent, while others find it very limited.
Why not just let her be, instead of inflicting debilitating injury?
Not one could grasp how it feels to be her, because in a world of hurt, let-downs, and disappointments, only loneliness stirs...
And still, she remains humble
Determined not to fall, trip, or stumble
Has she stalled? Or merely fumbled?
Too often life screams hell, feeling trapped inside a cell…of darkness
Agonizing in the cold, she hears nothing but utter silence/quite bothersome how many she finds so selfishly heartless
But,
she ponders, contemplating...Who is the one to blame?
The depths of her soul wishes for the pain to somehow wane… subside
But on the downside, in a world of rebellion, they will never abide; only incessantly conjure hurtful lies
So,
she becomes vindictive…
devising plans, schemes, releasing each and every inhibition
Some devious, others outright wicked
Not in evil sense, but in her ability to mastermind sophisticated antics
Mindful that two wrongs don’t make it right, her conscious attempts flight, but she fights, remaining steadfast.
Determined to exploit the culprits, and place them on full blast
How long will this mayhem last?
Seemingly,
for as long as it takes the initial intent to come to pass
She has had enough.
At the end of her rope, she fights back, refusing to continue to cope…with inflicted pain
Has she lost? Or did she gain?
Either way, fact remains that one should never dish out what they could never reclaim…Ten-fold
The hurt has caused her to become vindictive
As her life continues to unfold, payback has arose, and she falls
Remorseful
as the vengeance of her story seemingly remains untold
