Inya was sitting at Starbucks, dressed in a flower shirt, black joggers, her dreads touching her shoulders and tied in a ponytail. She bites into the apple, and I sit across from her feeling like a lost child.
A different place of meeting, the morning rush of people getting their joe. The scent of coffee beans, servers with spiked hair, earrings in their nose, and eager wanna be writers, and business meetings glued to their macbook.”
“Why are we meeting here?”
“I wanted a seven dollar coffee, and a six dollar scone and to spend my gift card. The office is stuffy wanted fresh air.”
“Oh, I have a lot to share.”
“Share.”
“Jensen and I had sex, he found cocaine in the bed and left.”
She dropped the apple core on the table, dab the corners of her mouth with the napkin, and took a sip of coffee.”
“Relapsed or you never stopped?”
My bottom lip trembles, she shakes her head, and pats her head.She sucks her teeth.
“Answer the question.”
“I relapsed two weeks ago. I was painting starting thinking and I found a stash in one of my suitcase and just did it.”
“Are you high now?”
“Yes. I feel like a failure.”
“Why didn't you use your supports?”
“I don't know.”
“You do know.”
“Because....”
“Janae, cut the bullshit and be real. You're afraid of no longer being the victim. I was you, okay. Afraid of rescuing myself from hell. Jensen can't save you. Your addiction is about you.”
“It didn't work now he hates me.”
“Did you start cutting again and that man doesn't hate you.”
“I wanted to but I didn't. Every thought of failure, mistakes, my mama, and Robert flooded me.”
“Are you telling me the truth.”
“Yes. I love him.”
“Do you really because you sniffing doesn't show love to yourself. How are you loving him when you refuse to love you?”
I lower my head and sobb.
“I keep messing up.”
“Who told you recovery was easy? I relapsed three times before getting clean. It is one day at a time. You are messing up because being clean is some scary shit. I still have pipe dreams. I call my sponsor, go to my NA meetings, meditate, and when the urge hits I make love to my husband. I fight everyday for my sobriety.”
“I thought I could stay strong.”
“You think the process is easy and we all thought we could just stop? Recovery is about you and your decision. Your life. Step by step. You have me as your sponsor, the urge kicks in you hit up my cell, come by my house but you do whatever to not get high and cut, child. We created a plan.”
“I thought you’d quit on me.”
“Nah, you’ve become my favorite problem child. I'm in for the long haul and didn't I tell your hot tail to not go and hump on Brick.”
She chuckled and winked her eye.
“Did he whip it on you good?”
“Girl, yes!” I finger through my hair, felt aftershocks of each stroke, kiss, and touch. I shift in my seat and bite my finger.”
“That how my hubby had me all open and willing to cook him a five course meal, and dessert at 3 a.m.”
“Heis the second man I've been with and my whole body stills feels him. How do I get him to forgive me?”
“Honesty, time and space. What do you want out of your life for you?”
“To be loved flaws and all.”
“Can you love yourself flaws and love like that must come from you?”
“I've always been told how I mess things and here I find the perfect person and there I go fucking it up. I got high because two weeks ago I overheard him say I was nothing to him to his Uncle. I was so hurt because all we shared, and I found a way to self-sabotage.”
She taps her finger on the cup, her cell rung, and she looks at the screen and smile.
“I have to take this call it is the love of my life calling.”
She chatted with him for a few minutes, crossed her legs, blushed, twirling her dreads, and bit her bottom lips. She closed the call with.
“Almond milk, honey, strawberries,whip cream, and thongs. I love you, my king.”
She put her phone in her purse, and put on her shades.
“You glow when you talk to your husband.”
“He gives me a thousands reasons to. It rare to find a man who loves you when you're fighting your demons such as addiction, guilt, grief, and stand beside you regardless of whatever. You have it in Jensen and it scary to love again.”
“He is done with me.”
“Share time . I relapse twice and I stole his credit card and took out 10,000 advance. Life was just getting good but I was afraid of it all hitting rock bottom. I just knew he was too good to be true. Passing my classes with A, making the honor roll, looking and feeling good. So I said let me tear it down and make him hate me. He came took me out the dungeon, put me in rehab and said, ‘You can't fire me from your life, and all the good happening to you. It why I love him like a madwoman and will fight a chick in the street if she dare cut her eye at him. Love like what I have is hella hard to find. For a long time I questioned whether I deserve a man like him with all my flaws. I wondered if I was okay to work this job, to dress nice, and have a home. It took me a long time to accept God’s blessings.”
“The NA meetings are at the office?”
“Yes, and I facilitate them along with Miguel on Thursdays. I expect you there at 6pm, bring a dish, and no swine whatsoever and it is a non judgement zone. I have to get out of here, run some errands, and prepare my husband's favorite dessert. Stay out of the coke cookie jar, self-care, and speak life.”
She put on her headphones, jumped on her bike, and drove through the crowd.
I took a stroll through the area, an art festival was going on. Rows of paintings, steel work, glass, fabric, acrylic, and I was in my element. Memories played of when I went to Elmwood Art festival two years ago with Robert. It was his memory reappearing, it was at the festival I took my first sniff of cocaine, and I gave him my virginity. It wasn't in love. Now I realize I was just a piece of ass.
I had to get away from here and not think about the past. Let it rest in peace. I had money in my pocket, but I was unsure of what to do in LA . No text from Jensen, no friends, and in this big city. I heard a country drawl scream,
“Janae, Janae. It’s me Reba. I Clare for Lawd I thought I wouldn't catch up with you.”
She wrapped her arms around me and kissed my cheek. A tall gentleman, with hair that look drench in grease, and a true look a like of George Michael , tore jeans, a leather jacket in ninety degree weather, and a toothpick in his mouth.
“It is good to see you. Did you make it with I got Talent?”
“No, plus I got a bun in the oven and Ernesto and I are newlywede.”
She rubbed her protruding belly, flashed her ring in front of my face. Ernesto swung the toothpick side to side , let out a big smile.
“Wow, congratulations. How exciting.”
“How are you and Brick?”
“He okay and so is Mama Pearl.”
“Good, Good. So did you two get together.”
“We’re friends.”
“Oh.”
“We are having lunch join us I have the biggest craving for Chipotle, a funnel cake, and a large strawberry banana shake.”
“I don't want to impose plus I have some painting to do.”
“Please come and eat with me. Ernesto is whisking off to work and I don't want to eat alone.”
We walked over to the Bama Shakes and Tacos. She ordered a strawberry banana shake, three steak tacos, and refrained beans. I ordered a taco salad, and lemonade. She had on a pair of jeggings and a white tank top.
“You seem awful quiet.”
“I have a lot on my mind.”
“Me too. I thought life was going to be easy, I would be singing and making millions.”
“Life happens.”
“Why didn't you and Brick get together.”
“It just didn't happen.”
“I felt like you were met to be.”
“Just drop it. Look I need to go and paint. Congratulations and I wish you the best.”
She is annoying me and Brick is a sore subject. I call an Uber and within five minutes a dread head pulls up with a white sedan. The car is filled with the smell of weed, and he is playing classic Shabba Ranks. He sprays the blue musk spray, his lips are black like tar, his eyes red like wine, and he humming.
“Pretty gal, smile baby.”
“I'm not in the smiling mood.”
“You smoke?”
“Back in the day but not anymore.”
“What will make you smile. I got Xanax, the white horse, the sticky icky, and meth.”
My demons was in my face, my nose tinkle, my craving scream just one hit and you will forget. I look out the window and the fight is real. I have money in my purse, a reason to get high. I swallow and he looks at me in the rear view mirror.
“Pretty gal, what you need?”
“You have but I don't need it.”
“We all need a bump in our life. Yolo it out and feel good.”
My hand tremble, my desire to scratch the itch to get high. I pick up the phone and dial Inya number pray she answers. Her voicemail comes on and I am five minutes away from home and buying what I don't need.
The addict in me ached to be fed. The desire to erase the love I feel for Jensen could go away temporarily with one sniff. I lost him, my family, and it was just me and coke. My heart was aching . A police car pulled up beside us, officer looked at him and then me. Tears falling, desperation, frantic and need of love more than drugs.
I dial his number because I need to defeat the demon that has been my problem solver
When we turn in Crenshaw the phone is ringing and another police car is riding beside us.
The driver stuff his products in his hat, Jensen deep voice answer sharp and stern.
“Yes, Janae.”
“I'm sorry for lying telling you I defeated the demon. For self-sabotaging my life and being such a pain in the ass. Right now this dread head is trying to sell me drugs and I'm fighting, okay. I'm fighting real hard.”
My voice is trembling, deep sobs come from my throat and I hear him breathing. The guy cuts his eye at me and shakes his head.
“Are you in the white car?”
“Yes.”
“Get out now.”
I step out and he has his arms folded, baseball cap to the back, sunglasses, and leaning against Mama Pearl’s car. I stand as the car pulled away. I slayed the demon and avoiding getting high. I was standing in front of my hero.
“I didn't get high.”
He said, “You see how you called me to help you. why didn't you do that before?”
“Afraid of what you might have said.”
He gave me a hug, and laid my head on his shoulder.
“You never have to be afraid of me. I told you I will be there for you. I was just so disappointed and you know I got your back.”
“You mean that?”
“Don't I show it?”
“Yes, I thought you were done with me?”
“Nah, I love ya ass already.”
“Wow!”
He wiped my tears, then kissed me, and held me tighter. His murderer pulls into the driveway, and kiss my forehead.
“Babe, are you...” He cut me off.
“I'm good did you see Inya today?”
“Yes, she suggested I go to NA meetings and maybe do a stint in rehab.”
“Whatever works you know I am here for you.”
Gloria steps out of the car, dressed in jeans, a black girl rocks t shirt, full make-up, weave curled, and yellow band to match her shirt. She stands In front of us, Jensen turns his head, and adjust his sunglasses. She has Victoria's Secret from head to toe smelling like Passion fruit and mango.
“How are you, Janae?”
“I'm fine, and yourself?”
“Good. I need to speak with Jensen alone, please.”
He placed his glasses on top of his head, ran his tongue around his lips, the vein in his neck pulsated up and down.
“We don't have nothing to discuss.”
“I don't want to discuss anything with you.”
“Then just listen.”
I kiss him on the cheek, and he kisses me back.
“I'll see you in the house in a few minutes. Check on Mama Pearl for me and keep her company.”
I walk inside and look from the screen. He is posted on the car, his arms folded, and legs spread apart.