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Authors: Rhonda McKnight

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Chapter 28
The Greater Christian Life Heavenly Spa and Wellness Day had turned into a huge success. We'd planned for two hundred attendees, but it was barely noon, and it seemed like we'd served a hundred people already. And it was a pretty event. We'd decorated with chocolate brown and red balloons—Angelina and my favorite colors. The family life center was filled with them, and the centerpiece at the registration table was a commanding masterpiece of latex and ribbon.
The kids wore black pants and white shirts—balanced hors d'oeuvres trays piled high with donations I'd begged up from restaurants, culinary schools, and even Sam's Clubs and Costco stores all over the city. The highlight of the event was the section roped off in the back of the room, the chocolates and cherries treat section where I'd hung brown and red privacy drapes for the spa area. The women of the community were positively giddy over the fact that they were going to receive a free massage, facial, and foot rub. I was amazed at how many low income people were coming in for blood pressure and glucose checks.
I guess I'd assumed this side of town was for Atlanta's money folks, but these women were the ones who cleaned these people's houses and worked in the local restaurants and took care of their children. They were piled like sardines in two bedroom apartments where they lived with six and seven people, mostly children and abandoned grandchildren. How naïve I was to believe that poverty was confined to the gates of White Gardens and other places like it.
“Rae, you are a genius. Girl, we need you on the Youth and Child Services Board.” Angelina threw her arms around me in a hug worthy of a win on Grammy night. “I'm so proud of the work you've done. Isn't it fabulous, Carol?” Angelina winked at me.
Carol's hands went to her pearls, and I rolled my eyes. “It's a fine job. The people seem to think it's special.”
“It is and—” Angelina's words were cut off by a little girl that ran and slammed into the back of her legs. She turned to find the intruder and the joy that had been apparent in her face kicked up one hundred percent. “I didn't know you were here.”
A short, red headed woman who looked to be about forty-five walked up with a small Barbie backpack and handed it to Angelina. “I'm sorry. When she saw you she just took off.”
“It's okay, Ms. Henry.” Angelina leaned down and squeezed the child. “Hi, Katrice.”
“Hi, Angelina.” The little girl made a mess of Angelina's name, but she was cute to death. Hair braided with a million rubber bands. Darling little Baby Phat outfit and matching kicks on her feet. “I got new clothes.”
“I know,” Angelina cooed. “And you look pretty in them.”
Angelina stood, and Katrice grabbed her hand.
“Ms. Henry, these are my church sisters, Carol Wright and Rae Burns. Rae is the coordinator for today's event.”
Ms. Henry was admiring the panache of her surroundings. “So this is a health fair?”
“A total wellness day,” I corrected her politely. “You should stay and have a massage while you're here.”
Angelina pointed. “You'll have to stop at a few of the booths and have blood pressure checked or weight or even your body fat percentage if you want to know it. After you've gotten four marks on the registration card, the spa services are a gift from the church.”
“Marvelous idea.” Ms. Henry looked at her watch. “I think I'll take you up on that. I don't remember the last time I could afford a massage.”
“Bye, Ma Henry,” Katrice said. The child was obviously thrilled to be turned over to Angelina.
“You be a good girl for Ms. Angelina, and I'll see you tomorrow,” Ms. Henry said looking down at Katrice. She redirected her attention to Angelina. “Thank you so much for allowing her to stay with you overnight. Twenty year anniversaries only come around once.”
Angelina and Katrice's eyes caught each other's. “No problem,” Angelina said. “I'm looking forward to Katrice and me having a nice sleepover.”
“Mind your manners, Katrice.” Ms. Henry scooted away. She was clearly psyched about getting a massage. I was hoping she'd visit the body fat table. The first step to getting help was knowing the scope of the problem, and from the rear view, Ms. Henry needed to be in the know.
“So,” I said, turning my attention to Katrice, “who's this little beauty queen?”
Angelina held the girl's hand out like she was presenting her at a royal ball. “This is Katrice. Katrice is a very special friend of mine.”
“Oh,” I said, feigning surprise. Angelina had been talking about Katrice non-stop for weeks. “What a pretty name for such a pretty little girl.”
Katrice chuckled at my compliment, but then she whispered, “Thank you.”
Angelina positively beamed when she looked at the little girl, and the little girl was looking at her like she was completely in love. If Angelina couldn't see this homeless, parentless, child was the baby she was looking to fill that void in her life, I wasn't about to tell her. She was going to have to figure that one out all by herself.
“Katrice and I are going to help Sister Green at the mammogram sign in table. They're a little backed up with the paperwork.”
“And I'm going to leave,” Carol announced.
“Carol?” Angelina's tone rang with disappointment. “You can't leave. Rae needs to leave early. Her mother is in the hospital.”
“I have a hair appointment. I couldn't reschedule.” Carol patted her bob like touching the perfectly coiffed hair would convince us it was in need of a roller set. “Besides, Rae has this all running like a well oiled machine.”
“It's okay. My cousin is with my mother.” I threw my shoulders back. “Besides, I prefer willing workers.”
Carol sneered at me before she walked away.
“Well, she'll kick herself in the morning when she finds out my surprise,” Angelina said. “Come on, Katrice.”
Surprise? What was she talking about?
“Angelina, is there something I need to know?”
“It's a surprise.” Her eyes twinkled with mischief. “A good one. Trust, you won't be disappointed.”
She walked away. I imagined she would have some special plaque made for my extraordinary efforts. There were lots of them hanging in the Hall of Fame at the church outside in the main hallway. She probably had some cool presentation all planned where I would be named Sister of the Year or some corny crap like that. I let it go and figured I'd accept my kudos, especially since my delivery from the infamous Justin's, a.k.a. P. Diddy's restaurant, had arrived. Now that was wellness food. I was starving, and I wanted to taste every one of those yummy appetizers before anyone else could get their hands on them.
 
 
I should have given Angelina's surprise more thought. If I had, I would have guessed it, but I'd been too busy working to consider the fact that Angelina had hooked up a visit from the media. Not some local nobody media. She had gotten us a spot on Atlanta's biggest station: Channel 2. Biffy Baskin, the “roaming reporter on the metro scene” was in residence with a hulking cameraman who looked like he doubled as a bodyguard. With a smiling Angelina to her right, Biff and her flunky walked toward me. There was no way I could escape.
“Rae, I know you tried to get news coverage for this event, but I called in a favor. One of my sorors is programming manager, and she was able to get us a camera. Isn't this great?” Angelina's excitement was bubbling out of her pores.
I thought I was going to throw up artichokes, cheese, and tiny wheat biscottis. The one time I didn't want attention drawn to myself, and my face was going to be splashed all over the six o'clock news.
“Rae, are you okay?” Angelina's eyebrows wrinkled. “You look a little green.”
Nausea nudged my ribs. “I ... I'm camera shy.”
Angelina laughed. “Yeah, right.”
“No no, really, Angelina,” I said, grabbing her arm. “You do the interview. I'm not even a member of the church.”
“You did all the work. I'm not going to take credit for it. Plus you need the business this could generate. You wouldn't have to work all those shifts at the hospital.”
“But—”
“Am I going to get one of you ladies on the camera or what?” Biffy asked, raising an impatient brow.
Angelina stepped back and stretched a hand toward me. “This is your girl.” The cameraman lifted the heavy equipment up on his shoulder and pointed.
“It'll take three minutes, doll,” Biffy, a former Miss Georgia beauty pageant finalist, pulled a compact out of her pocket and checked her face. “Jake, you ready?”
“Rolling,” he replied.
Biffy returned the compact to her pocket and started her script. “Today, I was roaming around town and guess what I happened upon? The most unique church health fair I think any of us in the metro area has ever seen.”
I wanted to disappear—fall into the floor. I was caught. On tape like on that stupid show
Cheaters
. I couldn't hide from the television. Everyone was going to know I was a fake. Everyone at work, White Gardens, and most importantly, Greg, and then Angelina. I was done.
 
 
I entered my apartment, slid my bag off my shoulder, and kicked off my pumps. What a day. I needed a soak in the Jacuzzi, but I was too tired to even run the water.
I flopped down on the bed. I'd stopped by the hospital to visit my mom. She was back to her old cranky self and was clearly suffering from the effects of not having her drugs. Thank goodness she was being discharged in a couple of days. Between the commuting to the hospital and her nasty mood when I got there, I was exhausted, and my problems were growing by the day. Now I was going to be all over the news.
It seemed where Biffy went all the little media hawks followed. Several local weekly papers showed up. While I hid in the bathroom like a punk, they took pictures of Angelina and some of the other women and went on their way to, no doubt, write up a front page story about Greater Christian Life Church and their awesome women's wellness day. With the exception of one cameraman, I was able to stay clear of the newspaper journalists.
I couldn't believe I'd gotten myself so played. Angelina had scheduled her TIVO to record the news at six and eleven to make sure she got to see the story about our event. I could see her now, lying in bed with Greg and saying, “There's Rae, the woman I've been telling you about,” and Greg losing his dinner at the sight of me.
Operation Steal Greg
was a wrap. I'd outdone myself this time. All I had to do was be a mistress, the girlfriend, the heat on the side. Greg was paying up. He was doing what men like him did; he was writing checks. But no, I had to be ambitious. I had to try to break up a marriage. My mother had warned me. “
Married men don't leave they wives, but they know they gots to pay to keep you happy. Don't be no fool. Get paid.”
I rolled over on my sick stomach. Hot tears began to fall from my eyes. When Greg cut me off I wouldn't be able to keep up with the bills: the condo, the car, my student loans, credit cards. I screamed out loud and began to beat on the bed like it was the source of my misery. I buried my face in the comforter. For the first time since I'd bought it, I didn't care if my designer linen got wet. I wanted to cut off my oxygen supply and smother myself to death so all this drama I'd created would go away.
Chapter 29
Angelina and Katrice entered the house through the garage. Katrice's presence stunned Greg. He looked like he had seen a ghost. Angelina realized he must have, since Katrice probably looked like Danielle would she have lived to reach this age. Greg coughed a few times and pulled himself together. “We have a guest.”
“This is Katrice, my special friend that I've been telling you about.” Angelina put her purse on the island.
“Wow.” Greg swallowed. “If she were older, you'd have a twin.” Then he directed his attention to Katrice. Greg was good with kids. He adored little girls, so he smiled, took her hand, and kissed it like a southern gentleman. “Hello, Katrice.”
Katrice gushed and said hello back.
“She's staying over tonight. I know you're playing poker later, so I thought she and I would have girl time.”
Angelina knew he didn't approve. Her work wasn't supposed to come home, but he nodded and said, “Fine by me,” in a voice that was less than fine by him.
A beat of silence passed as Greg looked between Angelina and Katrice. Angelina realized she'd been in the house long enough for him to have inquired about the fair.
“Ask me how it was?” Greg raised an eyebrow, and she cocked her head. “The health fair.”
“Oh, yeah. How was it?”
Angelina gave him a quick recap of the day. She included the news that Biffy Baskin came and did a feature.
“Biffy who?” Greg never watched the news, because he said it was too sensationalized. He only read the paper.
“The roaming metro reporter.” Angelina put a hand on her hip. “You know the blonde with the big hair.”
Recognition shone on his face. “Oh yeah, and the big—” he stared, and then smiled when he looked at Katrice. “The big hair.”
Angelina pursed her lips. “Yeah, the big hair.” She walked to the refrigerator. Katrice was right behind her. “I TIVOed it, so we can watch it later.” She removed a juice box, pushed the straw in, and handed the drink to Katrice.
“I don't think so. TIVO's full. I've been meaning to clean it off for a while.”
Angelina's hand went to her hip. “So I'm not going to get it.”
“No, but if your fair was newsworthy, it'll run again at eleven or in the morning. I'll dump some stuff and get it ready for you.” He stood. “So Katrice, did you enjoy the fair?”
Katrice nodded. “Yes.”
“Good.” He stuck his hands in his pocket, rocked back on his heels and looked at Angelina, then Katrice. He was clearly uncomfortable. “I'm going to shower.” He's found an escape. “What's for dinner?”
“I thought I'd order pizza. We've all had a full day. It's fast, and it's Katrice's favorite.”
“That's fine. Been awhile since we had Angelo's,” he replied. “Get a Philly cheese steak for me too.”
Katrice and Angelina watched him leave the kitchen and jog up the stairs.
“He nice,” Katrice said.
Angelina smiled, thinking the nice came and went with the changes in weather. She reached for the wall phone and dialed the number for Angelo's.
Katrice and Angelina spent the evening like sisters. They played dress up, watched a Disney movie, and drank homemade strawberry smoothies in the Jacuzzi. By the time she put Katrice in the guest bedroom, the little girl was completely pooped, and so was Angelina.
She heard Greg's car enter the garage, and she took the stairs down to greet him. The silly cigar he always smoked when he played cards was hanging out of his mouth. He was smiling, which meant he'd won, and Angelina hoped his luck would transfer to her.
“How much?” she asked, taking the kiss he offered.
His eyes twinkled. “Two hundred twenty bucks, and I had horrible cards. I bluffed all night.”
A light chuckle escaped her lips. “Are you hungry?”
“No, Malcolm ordered pizza from Angelo's of all places, so I've had my fill of bread and cheese. Where's the kid?”
“Sleeping. We had fun. I enjoyed having her.” She smiled thinking about their evening. Playing makeup had been their favorite part, but Angelina realized she'd need to get some inexpensive cosmetics and keep them on hand for repeat makeup sessions. No point wasting the good stuff.
Greg nodded, and then the understanding gave way to concern “You're not getting attached to her, are you?”
“You say that like it would be a horrible thing.”
“Well, she's a foster child in the middle of a pretty nasty lawsuit. I'd think you'd need to keep professional distance.”
“Is that what you were thinking?” she asked, knowing full well it wasn't.
Greg shook his head. “Okay, I was thinking about Danielle and hoping you weren't transferring some instinct to be a mother on her.”
Angelina breathed deep through her nostrils and a knot of tension settled in her belly. “I like her. She's a little girl, who, at this point, is all alone in the world. She's living with white people, which as an agency, I appreciate, but as a black woman, I don't. I don't think there's anything—”
Greg threw up his hands, cutting her off. “I'm not trying to fight about this. I'm just asking.” He reached into the refrigerator, pulled out a bottled water, and opened it. “I'm concerned about you.”
“Really?” She shook her head. “So why doesn't that love transfer into action?”
Greg put the water bottle down on the counter hard. A spray of it flew up and hit the light fixture above the island. “It's been a good day, Angelina—don't start this tonight.”
“A good day.” She guffawed. “I have a hole in my heart the size of the Grand Canyon. It's never a good day, and if you were so concerned about me, you could see it.”
Greg didn't respond. He took a sip of water, but it wasn't keeping him cool. She could see him boiling under the surface.
“You refuse to go see Dr. Luke.”
“You're right. Nagging me about it isn't going to change it.”
“You're being so unfair. It's not like I'm the one with the problem.” She regretted the words as soon as they came out of her mouth.
Greg leaned forward like he hadn't heard her. Then he grinned, but it wasn't a smile. “Oh yeah, that's good. Rub that salt right in the wound.”
“I meant—”
“I know what you meant.”
“Greg,” Angelina pleaded. “The process worked before. Why can't we do it again?”
“Because you have no idea how humiliating that entire
process
was for me.” Angelina could tell she'd hit the hot spot. He was enraged. “Going into that room with those magazines and that cup. You don't know what that was like.”
“No, of course not. I was too busy dealing with the headaches and pain from injections to think about what your process was like.” Angelina decided it was time for them to have it out. It was time to say what they'd both been thinking. Time to address the pink elephant that had been walking around their house and trampling over their emotions for two years.
“I didn't like it,” Greg barked. “I hated it, and I don't want to do it again.”
“So what, you don't think Danielle was worth what we both went through?”
Greg moved to the other side of the island and banged a fist on the counter. “Don't do that. Don't make it like I wouldn't do it all again for her.”
Angelina slid a few feet closer to him. Begged with her eyes. “Then why not for another child?”
“Because maybe that's what was wrong with her!” He yelled, and the words that had been hiding in his heart reverberated off the walls. “Did it ever occur to you that the little in vitro fertilization weakened her in some way?”
Angelina was stunned. She took a few feet backward, toward the table, and fell into an empty chair. Neither one of them said anything for long moments. “Is that what you think?”
Greg washed his face. “I don't know what to think. All I know is we did this unnatural thing, and then our baby died.”
“Greg, you're a physician. You know better—”
“I don't know any such thing. Do you know how much of what we do is guesswork? Some of it is really untested.” He shook his head and turned his back to her. A painful sigh filled the quiet.
Angelina stood, went to him, and wrapped an arm around him from the rear and rested her face against his back. After a minute he pulled her body to the front of his and used a hand to smooth her hair. “I love you, Lena. And I almost lost you after Danielle died. The only thing worse than losing her would have been losing both of you. I don't want to take the risk of that happening again.”
“We can't live our lives in fear. We have to trust God that everything will be okay.”
He released her. “You're kidding?” He tossed his empty water bottle in the nearby trash. “I don't know how you continue to do this whole God and church thing. If God cared about us, about you, then that would be our child upstairs and not someone else's.”
Angelina opened her mouth to say something, but he cut her off again.
“If God cared about anything, would that kid's sister have broken her neck on the stairs of a foster parent's house? Come on, honey. You can't ever, ever talk to me about God. I don't believe in Him!”
The tears that Angelina had been trying to suppress fell at the same time Greg's fist hit the counter. “You used to believe,” she whispered. “When you were in college and you were struggling to pass a test or even move up in your career, you prayed. You asked me to pray with you.”
Pain etched his face, and he nodded. “That was before I buried my daughter.” He left the kitchen, went into the library, and closed the door behind him.
Angelina's heart had been pounding, but now it was shattered into a thousand little pieces. She sat there, head in her hands, tears streaming through her fingers until she cried herself empty. She reached for a nearby napkin and wiped her face.
That was it. The pink elephant had left the house, but its exit had torn the frame off the door. There was no reaching Greg. He wasn't going to see Dr. Luke, and most assuredly his low sperm cell count hadn't reversed itself. If she didn't get pregnant on her own, they wouldn't have a baby. The chance of that happening naturally would be a miracle. Something she wasn't sure she believed would occur. At least not for her.
BOOK: An Inconvenient Friend
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