Read Nympho Online

Authors: Andrea Blackstone

Nympho (15 page)

16
A Big Pack Of Lies
“T
anya, I didn't know who else to call,” I said, speaking to her answering machine. “I know you probably hate me right now, but I'm laid up in the hospital, all by myself. I just had an emergency hysterectomy. Can you believe it, no kids? I can't have kids.” I started crying. I paused for a moment before adding a few more details to my pack of lies. “I can't tell Trey about the ovarian cancer. It would crush him right before the wedding.” I paused again, long enough to interject a few sniffles before going in for the kill. “Look, Tanya, we're girls so I just wanted you to know I would never ever hurt you or the kids. I was just angry, and I never called anyone on you about those kids. I'm scared, Tanya. Real scared. We go way back, girl. You're the first person I told when I got my period back in junior high school, and just because we're not speaking doesn't mean I don't love you. I miss you, girl and I was wrong for laying a finger on Rico. After looking deep into my heart and soul, I think it was just wedding pressure jitters, you know. I'm not perfect, just forgiven. Well, actually, the reason I pulled that ignorant stunt about your kids was because I was jealous. Yes, I said it,
jealous.
I found out my ovaries weren't healthy earlier that week and hid the bad news from everyone. The GYN said they would have to go, and I was angry and in denial. Please call me back if you can ever find it in your heart to forgive me. I'm so alone. I know I deserve this but I could die. I don't want to think of leaving this great big lemon drop without setting the record straight with my ace boon coon. I've got to go now. Love you, sweetie. Take care.”
After I hung up, I laid back and waited. There's a sucker born every day, and it was Tanya's birthday. The phone rang about an hour later.
“Leslie?” It was Tanya.
“Oh, you called. I didn't think you would.”
“You had a hysterectomy? There was no way to save you're uterus? How unusual, Leslie—you're so young,” she commented, sounding concerned.
“I don't want to talk about what happened. It's over now.”
“I am pissed as hell over everything you did, but my Christian heart won't allow me not to ask if there's anything I can do.”
“I can't bother you after how I behaved. I'll make out.”
“Do you need something?”
“Truthfully?”
“Yes, truthfully.”
“I do need a hand to hold. I'm really scared, Tanya. I'm still bleeding, and I'm afraid that anything could happen to me. Who knows—tomorrow's not promised to anyone,” I said somberly.
“I'm coming to the hospital. Where are you?”
“I can't face you right now. I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I've said too much already.” I resumed crying. “Kiss the kids. I'll never have any! I can't be a mother, Tanya. God cursed my body, for good reason I suppose.”
“No, no, no! Don't say those things.”
“It's true. I'm barren. This will have future implications— no man wants a woman who can't have his child. Now I'm going to get stood up at the altar. I was lucky to find a man in the D.C. area. You know how hard it is to find a good man since there's at least eight times more of us than there is of them. Now look what happens. There goes my hopes of marrying Trey!” I exclaimed.
“I'm sorry you found out this bad news about your health and everything, but no matter how long we've been friends, I can't forget that you repeatedly slept with my man. Since I don't have anything nice to say, it's best that I stop here,” Tanya explained.
“I'm all alone in this world now. Should I take these pills or use this blade? I'm not sure how I'll do it but I'm going to kill myself. My life's a mess and there's nothing worth living for. Don't get me wrong, I accept full responsibility for my actions. I made this hard bed, so now I've got to sleep in it. I better go. I have some decisions to make. Goodbye my friend,” I said.
“Wait! Where are you? Suicide is not the answer. I'm angry at you but that doesn't mean that—”
“It has to be. I'm no more good,” I said, cutting off Tanya. “You take Trey. You deserve him just like you said. Be happy together and take good care of each other,” I said. I sucked in a breath, sounding dramatic, but struggling hard to keep from laughing.
“Where are you?”
“Going to hell.”
“Answer me. Talk to me straight,” Tanya insisted.
“I'm at my place. I was just released from Washington Hospital for Women. I'm going to slit my wrist. The pain I feel is just too deep. I lost you, now I'm about to lose Trey.” Click.
I hung up abruptly with high hopes that Tanya would be roped back into my world. The thing is that after my abortion, I needed some help around the house. I was bleeding, but not for the reasons I said. I had to think up an entirely different version to tell Trey.
“Trey, I hate to bother you at work. I know you're busy.”
“What's up, Les?”
“I hate to be the bearer of bad news but I—I . . . sort of had an accident,” I announced in a choppy rhythm.
“What!”
“Yep.”
“Are you okay? What happened?”
“Sort of. It all depends on your definition of okay. I just got home and I'm trying to calm down and settle my nerves. I just need some peace right now.”
“Talk to me, baby. What happened?”
“You know how sometimes in life you think you have it all. Just when you're happy and feeling good about things—bam. Something was happening to me, and it was that one thing I didn't see coming.”
“Why won't you just tell me and stop dragging it out!”
“I want to Trey. It's not that I don't want to tell you. It's just that what unfolded is a little bit awkward. No one ever said life was easy, so why should I have expected a fairytale leading up to the wedding?” I rambled. “Do you love me? I mean love me like I'm irreplaceable and our bond is unbreakable?”
“Of course I love you like that, girl. What kind of question is that? I wish you would tell me what is going on. I'm getting tired of talking in circles.”
“You may not love me after I tell you the news.”
“You can tell me anything. What is it?”
“Two days ago, I fell down the steps, Trey.”
“What!”
“I know. I know. I got dizzy and fell down the steps. I really think I blacked out. Everything went dark. The next thing I knew I was dragging over to the phone to call 911. I was rushed to the hospital and everything,” I lied.
“Why didn't you call me?”
“I didn't think it was that serious, and I didn't want to bother you. You know I'm not a selfish drama queen.”
“Nonsense—you should've called to let me know what was going on. This was a bonafide emergency.”
“You're always so busy. I didn't want to ruin your day over something small.”
“Our wedding is in just four days. You're almost my wife. What are you saying?” Trey asked, sounding annoyed.
“I'm saying that I didn't think it was a big deal.”
“But are you okay?”
“I'm still sore for the DNC procedure. Other than that, a few scrapes and bruises from what I've noticed so far.”
“And the baby?” he asked. I remained quiet. He asked me again. “And the baby?”
“I had a miscarriage,” I told him softly. “Honey, did you hear me? I said I had a DNC procedure. To put it nicely, that means I had to get some internal things tended to after the doctors discovered the fetus wasn't living.”
Trey broke down crying in a way I never imagined. I could feel the hurt pouring from his heart. “Why? Why is this happening to me? No! No!” he shouted between sobs.
“I know this really sucks. I really wanted the baby, too. Well, not at first, but after you showed me that our child is, I mean, was a blessing from God. The bottom line is that I was getting attached to it already,” I said, pretending to feel sad. I shifted the conversation with a smooth transition to set Trey up not to come see me. “Tanya put her differences aside to come help me. I'm not up to talking much right now. Go get a beer and catch up with Rico and your crew after work. They're like family to you and getting out may do you some good. Don't try to see me right now because I'm not emotionally equipped to face you. Had I not pushed myself and stayed in bed, this never would've happened. I'll call you later. I'm so sorry. Perhaps we can try to get pregnant again later. I guess this wasn't mean to be—everything happens for a reason. I better go for now.” Click.
I hung up the phone letting that cruel pack of lies fall in my man's lap.
 
I heard Tanya turn into my driveway. While she was parking her car, I poured a bottle of pills all over the kitchen table, then scattered them around. I let Tanya bang on the door while I took the time to set the stage for my acting debut. I also decided that every now and then, I would hold my stomach and wince in pain.
When I unlocked the door, I put on a pathetic face and stood at a slight angle. I was breathing hard from running around so quickly that it added to the credibility of my performance. “I'm sorry it took me so long to get to the door. I have to walk very slowly. Please, Tanya, not a word to Trey. He can't know I had this surgery. Swear you won't tell or I don't want you to see me right now.”
“I swear I won't mention a thing,” she answered as she walked into the house. “You're winded. Come on now. Let me help you get off your feet,” she said, gently grabbing my arm and leading me to the couch.
“I'm going to get you a sheet and pillow so you can lay down while we talk about some things. I'm taking off for a few days and I don't want to hear a word about it. You're wedding is in a few days and we've got to get you well enough to walk down that aisle.”
“I can't let you be good to me—not in light of my behavior, Tanya. Just leave. Maybe you being here will be too awkward for both of us. I can't even look you in the eye.”
“Let's just forget what happened. In fact, the only way I can deal with it is by not ever talking about it again. Blood is thicker than water, and we're almost blood. A man is not worth losing a friendship. That's what they say, right?”
“Yes. I know you're still pissed though.”
“Like I said, we don't need to talk about that right now,” Tanya explained.
After she made me more than comfortable, including fetching my slippers like an obedient dog, she ended up begging to be my maid of honor.
Tanya showed up with an overnight bag, and I intended on her staying as long as she could. Just as I'd hoped, the midget shrimp waited on me hand and foot all week, and even stressed herself out with my wedding shit while I got my strength back and slept the day away. I listened to the birds sing and slept while she scrubbed my toilet, cooked me breakfast, and played praise CDs to lift my spirits and ease my pain. Tanya placed her hand on my head and prayed for me to lose the suicide demon, wasting her precious vacation days, and leaving her children with someone she had to pay. Dumb, gullible biyotch!
On day one of her stay, I sent Tanya to the store to get some super-sized maxi pads for my bleeding. While she was out and about, I placed a call to Rico.
“You've been officially relieved of your duties,” I said just after he answered. “You are no longer my baby daddy. When you show up for wedding rehearsal, you better act like you have some sense, because I'm in love with Trey,
not
you. Wake up and smell the coffee. I had an abortion. Trey and I have come too far, and you're not going to wreck our future.”
 
Trey's mother showed up with church members, the day after my talk with him. They all came bearing gifts, casseroles, fruit, pies, and holding helium balloons with get well messages written all over them. Mabel began treating me like a human being and apologized profusely for the loss of my first child, three days before my wedding. I scammed everyone with my pack of lies. My alter ego Innocence was unleashing her merciless wrath. Mild-mannered Leslie, who was often mistreated and unsatisfied, was buried deep within. Innocence was having everything handed to her on a silver platter . . . and I was beginning to like doing things her way.
17
The Sister From Hell
“W
ho are you? Her maid?” I heard someone say.
I'd know that voice anywhere.
It belonged to my sister from hell. Although she was part devil, her horns seemed to have fallen off when she was born. She didn't have me fooled though. I always knew what she was and why.
“Maid? No, I'm her sister in the Lord,” Tanya replied, standing at the front door. “How cute. I love it. I realize you may have mistaken me for Mariah Carey, but
I'm Angela, Leslie's big sister. Same mother, same father. I got the good genes, and she got whatever was left over. Why am I telling you this? That part's obvious.”
“Confidentially, she just had a hysterectomy. She needs to rest,” Tanya explained. She didn't bother to tell Angela she'd known me since junior high school.
“Please! She's always been one to exaggerate. She'll be fine. She has nerves of steel and the stamina of a workhorse. She can borrow one of my children—no big deal. Kidding!” Angela said, swinging her hair. “Aren't you going to invite me in?”
I sat on a couch in the background watching Angela.
Tanya replied, “Well, I don't know if . . .”
“Anyway, she can stand to open her doors early for her family,” Angela commented, nearly pushing Tanya out of the way. “We lost contact and haven't seen her in years. I did a Google search and up popped her address and phone number. I can imagine she's dying to see me. Our parents will be along a bit later,” she explained. I sighed and shook my head as I continued spying. “I'm on my fifth marriage. I have nine years of marriage under my belt—husband number one was an IBM executive, some years ago. If I could survive life with
that
man, anybody else would be like a bed of roses. Weddings are no big deal to me. I just wanted to see who was foolish enough to hook up with Tar Baby. Plus, hopping a plane was no big deal. We have a lot of projects going on at our home in L.A.: a broken water pump that's being fixed, an Italian bedroom, yada, yada, yada.” She removed a bottle of Air-wick air freshener from a bag and began spraying it around the room. I began to cough from the fumes, so I stood up, trying to find another place to sit.
When Angela spotted me her face lit up with a phony smile. She shoved the spray back in the bag and headed in my direction. “Kissy, kissy,” she said, taking her index finger, kissing it, and then placing it on my face. Her sick idea of affection caused my face to wrinkle. “Aren't you going to speak to your big sister?” she asked.
“Hi,” I replied dryly.
“You haven't been up for more than ten minutes and forty three seconds. I can tell by the sound of your voice. Ever since you were a little tot it would get that scratchy sound in it. It sort of reminded me of someone running nails across a chalkboard. It fits your appearance though. I see nothing major has changed about Leslie.”
From that point on, my
sister
never shut her fat mouth. She hadn't changed either. She was just like the Energizer Bunny—her trap kept going and going and going, something like diarrhea of the mouth.
“One of mom's friends spotted your marriage announcement in some local D.C. paper then gave her a call. After that, she read it. You made the paper, okay, so now you're a little above average. Mom and I have a running bet. I said your wedding was running two thousand five hundred dollars and fifty-six cents, or lower. Am I right? At this rate, by the time you're sixty you will just scrape the roof of the poverty level,” Angela chuckled.
Six pieces of luggage were being hauled in while she talked. A nanny carrying a small dog in a cage came in, followed by who I assumed were her three children. Behind them were her hairdresser and chef, piling in my crib. I was speechless to say the least.
“Is this a makeshift shelter, or is this where you really live?” she asked haughtily. “Do you rent or own?” she asked, looking around.
“Own,” I answered with brevity.
“I see you didn't spring for the quality carpet. My toddler won't be crawling on this steel wool pad. She's used to hardwood floors—even linoleum won't do. Where's the love, in the room? Could you treat your guest with a little hospitality and pay the cab drivers?”
I shot her a look. Her presence wasn't going to work. She wasn't invited.
They
weren't invited. “I don't want her here,” I whispered to Tanya.
“Don't worry about it. Be the bigger person. I'll pay the driver,” Tanya whispered back. She disappeared to find her purse. Moments later she flew out the door to pay two cabs. When the door opened the two older kids nearly knocked Tanya down. They ran outside, but the toddler stayed in the house, trying to keep up with his loquacious mother.
Angela found the bathroom and peeked inside of it. “Change the toilet seat. That thing has got to go! I don't want to leave here with pimples on my butt,” she complained to the nanny. “A home you can see from the street spells c-h-e-a-p. Maybe it's time for a career change. You know, something with a 401K, and actually pays you enough not to live like a pauper.” She waved her designer watch in my face, just to tantalize me.
“I have a 401K, Angela.”
“And what is it that you do again?”
“I'm a teacher, Angela,” I said dryly.
“Oh, right. I guess you do have a point. I'm sure this is the best you can do. I'm a television host on the highest rated morning show in L.A.” She nodded her head up and down with affirmation. “You should be incredibly grateful. I didn't imagine that you were doing even this well. Your abode is
cute
. . . for you. I imagine it keeps you good and humble.”
Angela sauntered past me into the kitchen. “Do you have soy milk, dear? The baby needs it so she'll have strong bones and teeth when she grows up. We don't want a snaggle-toothed child like you were. Beauty solutions start early. Where's your nearest Fresh Fields? We only eat organic foods. We're a health conscious family. Living in L.A. forces you to keep up with your peers unlike the D.C. hogs who I see roaming around in your zip code. It's all about sensible eating. I don't understand why these porkers can't stay committed to losing weight. Then again, they'll never be on TV for anything prestigious, so they don't have to worry about how huge the camera would make them look.”
“I do drink soy milk, but I'm out of it right now, Angela. Had I known you were coming, I would've had a room full of the shit,” I snapped, ignoring her bragging tirade about her big time job. My patience was beginning to wear thin, especially since I truly was recovering from losing a great deal of blood.
“While I was on the plane I jotted down a few small things I'll need for me and my family. It's not much. Bottled water—where's your bottled water? I don't drink a drop from the faucet.” Before I could mange to reply she began opening cabinets. “No substitutions. It must be Perrier or nothing at all. Unlike your body, my body knows the difference. Well, a trip to the store will be necessary anyway. I can wait since I'm not hard to please. I try not to be a pest whenever I'm a houseguest.”
“Says who?” I mumbled under my breath.
“Here's a list of our visiting requirements, in order of importance.” She handed them to me. Angela: A CD player with earphones so I can play my relaxation tapes while I put cucumbers on my eyes in the evenings before retiring. And of course, low lighting. Two satin pillow cases so my hair will stay nice and fresh. The nanny should use my own sheets, pillowcases, and towels. During meal time, the chef should use my own pots. Please remove your own items and get them out of the way.
“For my husband who will be joining us later: A fifth of whisky, a fifth of vodka (Grey Goose or Belvedere will do) and three bottles of Merlot, in the event he is not successful in finding a liquor store. He's out right now looking and refuses to go to a treatment center, and that's just the way it is. Children: Organic chicken strips, soy milk, and Fig Newtons. No candy please. For my dog Miss Lady: Since I'm sure you don't own a set of china, one of your best bowls will be needed for her meals. She eats at the kitchen table to ensure her blood glucose levels are controlled. No table scraps! Lastly, my list ends with a note to myself to ask Leslie where I can hook up my fax machine and PDA.
“Um, Angela. You may want to remember your sister needs rest. She's coming along, but she does need to take it easy,” Tanya said diplomatically.
Angela ignored her comment. “Tell me, Leslie, who is this mystery man anyway? Can he afford to take care of the one he
thinks
he loves? I want his name, and I want his personal address. I know you better than anyone, and I need to have a talk with the future head of this household. Oh, never mind. I forgot that I'm going back to my old high school to see if I can have a press conference,” she joked. “But really, these hands need help! Where's the nearest upscale day spa?”
I ignored her and walked to the window. That's when I noticed one of her children alternating between kicking my car bumper and trying to pull it off.
“I want a smoothie! I want a smoothie!” yelled the little girl.
The boy crawled underneath the car in the dirt and began pulling on the pipes. I yelled out of the window for them to stop. I was two seconds away from cussing their spoiled asses out, but I was interrupted.
“They're just children. Don't be so mean, Auntie Leslie,” Angela told me, sitting down on the couch. Her hairdresser began fixing her hair and set up a curling stove in my living room. Once the man had curled only one piece, vain Angela was already tugging at it and patting her hair.
“I wouldn't have some hair disaster on my big day. I need to test this hairdo out now while I have time to change my mind if it's not to my liking. Come here,” she said. I walked toward her. “Bend down. I'm getting my hair done. I can't reach like that.” I bent down. Angela began running her hands through my hair. She was obviously checking for tracks or extensions. “Wig, InstaWeave, what? You never had hair. You know it doesn't grow. I could cut my hair off three times, let it grow back, and you still wouldn't have much to pinch!”
“I let it grow out, Angela,” I snapped, standing upright.
“Doesn't the way you look just make you want to run and hide? This is the skin you want, soft and smooth. I feel like I can say this because you're my sister. Splotches are not cute. Since you obviously weren't using a personal trainer, I can assume you'll be retouching your wedding photos to do something with those thunder thighs of yours. Maybe he can lighten you up while he's at it. Our maid of honor wants you to look your best. I mean, a photographer can't work miracles, but a little hope is in store for you. At least you appear to be one step above Aunt Jemima.”
I felt Innocence preparing to break Leslie out of her polite shell. In fact, she was getting warmed up.
“What do you think this is, the
Live Like a Star
show? Who are you to come in my home and take over? This is not funny. Cool it, you L.A. faker! That is my maid of honor standing over there, and you will not be setting foot anywhere around me on my big day.”
Angela rose to her feet and looked into my eyes. The hairdresser tapped her on the small of her back and she sat back down. The hairdresser took a section and resumed curling her locks.
“Where is your compassion? Where is your ability to be a hostess?” she asked. She just kept going and going, just like that Energizer bunny.
It was like a bad reality show. I couldn't stomach my sister's antics any longer. I don't know where the idea came from, but I put my cramps aside, walked down to my basement, grabbed a steel pail, filled it with water, and let Innocence work her magic. I reentered the living room and stood about two inches from her face.
“I
said
shut uuuup! You're such an annoying, self-absorbed bitch!”
“How dare you talk to your big sister this way, Leslie.” She patted her hair, feeling the freshly made curls.
I pushed the hairdresser out of the way and dumped a bucket of ice-cold water on her head.
“My hair! My hair! It's ruined,” she screamed. Angela was so angry her knees, shoulders, and entire body began to shake. She parted her hair like a curtain and moved her long locks out of her face. “My Manolo Blanicks! Do you know how much these shoes cost? They're ruined!” she said, kicking out one of her feet to survey the damage to her expensive shoes. Angela's toddler was startled and crawled over to her. She began tugging on Angela, begging to be picked up. Angela was too consumed with her ruined hair and shoes to care.
“I listened to your mouth run for the last thirty minutes straight while I'm in pain. I will get some rest, and I will get rid of you. I will seal your children's mouths and hands with duct tape and tie your dog's legs together and feed him table scraps if you don't take you, your little rat on a leash, and your wanna be entourage out of here within five minutes flat! Try me—I am not that little wimp you used to pick on when we were kids. It's a new day and a damn new Leslie! I came out of the same hole you did. It would seem you could treat me right, if only for one damned day. I hated you when we were growing up, and I hate you now! You picked on me then and you're picking on me now! You always treated me like a farmhand. This is no contest!” I screamed at Angela.
“Well, what a malicious pack of lies,” she replied, rising to her feet. “And you're scaring my baby,” she said.
The little boy was screaming at the top of his lungs. By this time, he was blowing snot bubbles with his nose. The noise was making me even crankier than I was before.

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