Chapter Seventeen
LaMeka
Ever since Misha confessed that she knew she was HIV positive, I had been a nervous wreck. I still didn’t know if I had the virus. I hadn’t slept or eaten right over the past couple of months, but I knew I had to pull myself together for her and my kids’ sakes. In order to keep my mind off of it, I plunged headfirst into bettering myself, helping Misha, and raising my boys. You’d think that by being around my sister, it would further remind me that I may be suffering the same fate, but actually, it didn’t. My concern was so much for her and learning how to battle this disease that I didn’t have time to worry about myself.
In fact, we were bettering ourselves as a family unit. With the help of Pastor Gaines, my mother, sister, and I formed a tight bond, and I had to say my mama was doing her damn thing. Well, both of us actually. We’d both taken the GED test, so not only did Misha get her high school diploma, my mom and I got our GEDs too.
Pastor Gaines’s counseling had begun to transform our mom into the mother we’d always wanted as well as the mother we needed. We went to church together, we ate dinner together, and we prayed together. We did everything together. Pastor Gaines even helped my mother land a job as the manager for this consignment shop, which she loved, while Misha was set to start Piedmont Tech in the fall. She took a page out of Lucinda’s book and wanted to be a medical coder, but I thought she was more hooked on the bank that Lucinda was making than the job. Using a scholarship from the church and a grant, I enrolled in college to start my nursing program, and I was overjoyed about it. Despite my situation, not everything was all bad in my life.
I still hadn’t heard from or seen Tony since that fateful night, and I was happy about that. Word on the street was that he was bouncing from crackhouse to crackhouse straight zooted up. He was so far gone at this point, I doubted he even remembered me or his kids. The sad part was I wanted him to forget he ever knew me, and maybe somehow the hurt, anguish, and yes, even love I still had in my heart for him would somehow disappear. I found it completely crazy that after all he’d put me through—the verbal, mental, and physical abuse—and possibly giving me a potentially deadly disease, I still loved him. I guessed if you truly loved someone, you never really stopped. That’s not to say that I would ever take him back—that was a guaranteed hell no—it just meant that one day I hoped he was able to get his life together before it was too late for him. Regardless of our differences, he had two sons who needed a man in their lives.
Pastor Gaines was a perfect example. I admired him and looked up to him as a father figure for myself, but little boys need their daddies just as much as they need their mommies. I did a great job as a mother, but I couldn’t train my sons to be men. A real man could teach their sons how to be men, and that’s real talk. There was just some shit about men that I would never get, and if I didn’t get it, then on some level, my sons would not get me. That’s why they needed Tony, and if Tony could get clean just long enough to see that truth, I bet he’d realize he needed them just as much.
That was, if he lived to raise them. I wasn’t just speaking about the risks of his drug abuse. I was talking about if I didn’t kill him myself if these results came up positive.
“Are you nervous?” my mom asked me.
“Did I not throw up twice before we left?”
She gripped my hand. “Don’t be nervous. God will sustain you.”
“So says the woman whose HIV test came up negative.” I rolled my eyes at her.
“LaMeka, how can you be a positive force on your sister, who already has this disease, if you can’t even be positive for yourself? There is a fifty percent chance that you could walk out of here free and clear, and instead of you holding on to that, you’re acting as if you’ve already been condemned to die. I understand you’re frustrated and anxious, but please try to remember those who no longer have that glimmer of hope, like your sister,” she huffed as we sat there waiting for the results.
She was right. Here I was throwing my own pity party, and my sister—God bless her soul—was already living with it. She absolutely amazed me. You’d think she’d give up hope and be miserable, but she hadn’t. She was so happy about the positive changes in my life and in our mom’s life that it kept her going. She even volunteered to do advocate work for local groups about HIV/AIDS awareness. I was proud of her. I was proud of my mom. Hell, I was proud of me. So regardless of what I heard today, good or bad, I was going to walk out of here with my head held high and live my life. My life was not going to end just because of my circumstances. I made up my mind that from that moment on, if I had it, HIV would be living with me and not me with it. Point blank period.
“Are you ready for your results, LaMeka? They are conclusive,” the doctor said as she entered the room and broke my train of thought.
I looked at my mom, clasped her hand, and nodded. “Yes.”
She opened the report and scanned over it. “Ms. LaMeka, you are negative,” she announced.
A gasp of relief belted out from me as my mother yelled out in joy and hugged me tight. Tears of joy slid down my face. “Are you sure? I’m negative?”
The doctor smiled at me and nodded. “Yes, I’m sure. You do not have HIV,” she repeated gladly.
I didn’t know what else she was trying to tell me, because I fell straight to my knees and began praising God as if I were in Sunday morning worship service. My mom joined in right along with me as we just thanked and praised Him. I wasn’t sure if the doctor thought we were crazy, but she just let us continue to get our worship on. She didn’t have a choice, because I was just like old shoutin’ John at this point. Hold my mule! I had too much to be thankful for to not recognize Him for His blessing. I literally danced on death’s doorstep, so for this, He was more than worthy to be praised. Once I finished, she gave us some tissues and finished discussing preventive measures. She gave me a copy of my results and sent us on our way. No sooner than we got in the car, Misha called me.
“What was the result?” she asked as soon as I answered.
“Negative.”
She hollered with joy. “Thank you, Jesus!” she yelled. “I knew you were okay. I just knew it!”
“How are my boys?” I asked, immediately thinking of them.
“They are fine. LaMichael just lay down for his nap, and Tony Jr. is watching cartoons in here with me.”
“Good. I just want to come home and be right up under my boys, you, and Mom,” I said as my mom looked over at me and smiled.
“Yeah, we have to celebrate. Oh, and you got some mail that looks really important. I think it’s from the State of Georgia,” Misha said.
“What in the world could that be?”
“I’m not sure,” Misha answered.
“Oh well, I’ll see when we get there. We’ll be there in like ten minutes.”
My mom and I talked all the way to the house about what we wanted to do to celebrate. When I got there, I immediately hugged Tony Jr. and Misha. We all sat there laughing and talking until I remembered the mail. Misha handed me an envelope from the Social Security Administration, and I nearly fell off the sofa when I read it.
“What is it?” my mom asked me.
“Yeah, Meka, what’s wrong?” Misha asked with a worried expression on her face.
I looked up with joy in my heart. “Not a damn thing.”
I turned the paper around so they could see the source of my happiness. The state had revisited Tony Jr.’s autism case and had awarded him another lump sum disability payment. I wasn’t rich by any means, but this money meant three surefire things for me. One—Pooch was getting paid in full immediately. Two—I was taking a page out of Charice’s book and investing. Without Tony pulling me down, I would make this money work for me so that by the time I moved out of the transitional house, I could pay cash for my own house for my boys, my mom, my sister, and me to live in. Three—having this money and investing it meant guaranteed health coverage for Tony Jr. and Misha.
Misha and my mom jumped up and down and celebrated, and I just relished their joy. Never again, no more did I have to worry about my family’s well-being. For once, everything was all right. Everything was all right.