Chapter 12
It was the next morning. Alexis had just gotten to work. She placed her purse in a drawer and proceeded to the break room to make a pot of coffee. It was early in the morning, and only a few other staff members had arrived.
Her back was turned when she noticed Shyla Perry-Fallender enter the room.
Shyla hesitated. “Hi, Alexis.”
“Oh, okay. Hello back at you.”
Shyla walked over to the coffeemaker gripping her mug.
“I didn’t know you drank coffee.” Alexis studied Shyla, whose eyes looked red and moist.
“Oh, please. How can you say that when I’m in here every day, just like everybody else? I’m sure you’ve seen me in here many times.”
Shyla grabbed the coffee creamer and placed a spoonful in her cup.
“Hmm, yeah, you’re right. I have noticed you in here every day, several times a day, drinking coffee like it’s going out of style.”
“Alright, then.”
“But you know something else I’ve noticed? That you and your BFF, Nicole Greene, don’t chat and hang out like you used to. In fact, when we had our last staff meeting, you two sat at opposite ends of the room like you didn’t even want to look at each other. What’s up with that? Y’all fell out?”
“Look, mind your business.”
“Oh, oh, okay. The woman that’s always in everybody else’s business doesn’t want anyone in hers. Figures.”
“Alexis, please.” Shyla had a rare serious expression on her face. Right then Alexis felt convicted, as if she could be more sensitive and friendly to the woman even if she didn’t deserve it.
“Hey, I’m not trying to pry or anything, but it’s obvious you two had it out. Um, I hope everything works out.”
“Highly unlikely. She’s a bitch. Always has been a bitch, and I needed to open up my eyes and see Nicole Greene, as you call her, for what she really is. A chick that will sleep with a woman’s husband and won’t give a damn. So yeah, I can’t roll with her anymore. And one day she’ll get everything she deserves.”
“Shyla, come on now. Whatever has happened, I’m sure you can work it out.”
“Slow your roll, peacemaker. She’s talked about your ass like a dog ever since she got hired. Don’t defend her.”
Alexis’s voice trembled. “What has she said about me?”
“She told me she could never be like you. You waited until Rashad wanted to marry her before you up and filed for child support. You’re trying to get what’s rightfully hers. And you’re a poor excuse for a mother since you had to adopt your own child.”
“She said that?”
“Yes, she did.” Instantly Shyla felt guilty for spilling so much tea and betraying Nicole. “I-I won’t tell you everything she said, but yeah, girlfriend, it was nothing nice.”
“Hmm. Thanks for the heads-up.”
“You’re welcome.”
“But can you tell me why you two aren’t talking anymore?”
“No, I can’t. I’ve already said enough. My mouth is closed.” Shyla finished making her cup of coffee and quietly left Alexis alone to think about what had just happened.
* * *
Later that day, Alexis was at her desk during her lunch break. She’d missed the deadline to file her income taxes. But it was no big deal; she was getting a refund and the deadline wouldn’t matter. She clicked away at her keyboard and began the process of filing electronically. She entered Hayley’s Social Security number; an error message popped up. She tried typing the numbers a second time. Soon it was apparent that the IRS was rejecting her attempts to e-file.
“What the hell?” she whispered. “Has someone else already used my baby’s Social Security number?”
She rubbed her temples and felt like she needed to drink a cold glass of water. Tax refund fraud was running rampant in Houston. She prayed she wasn’t the latest victim.
After feeling hopeless, she quickly grabbed her cell phone and rushed outside, found her car in the staff parking lot, got in, and slammed the door. She called Varnell and explained what had just happened.
“This is really fucked up. I don’t know what could have happened, but what if I am the victim of fraud?”
Varnell listened. Then asked, “Have you ever e-filed before? Did you call the IRS? Have you left your tax info or Social Security number and all that lying around anywhere lately?”
“Hell, no.”
“Then it must be something else.”
“Like what?”
He hesitated.
“Babe, try calling your child’s father. Make sure he didn’t already file and use Hayley’s Social Security number.”
She vigorously shook her head. “No, that’s not it. Rashad wouldn’t do that. Plus, he told me that he’d let me claim her this year.”
“Call him anyway, Alexis.”
“I don’t want to.”
“But you need to.”
She practically hung up on Varnell as she rushed to get Rashad on the phone.
“Hey, what’s up?” he said.
He sounded normal, nothing close to shady. She wanted to believe this was just a big mistake.
“Rashad, I’m alright, but something weird has happened.”
“What’s that?”
“I just tried to claim Hayley on my electronic tax return but it wouldn’t go through.”
“Oh, that. Yeah. I meant to tell you.”
“Did you claim her after promising me that I could do it?”
“Yeah, I did. I’m sorry. I forgot.”
She closed her eyes and felt like screaming. “Rashad, how could you forget something so important like that? Man, you have no idea how much you just fucked up.”
“What do you mean?”
Alexis felt like the world was coming to an end. It seemed like every time she tried to do something good for her and her daughter’s life, it was always like running up an incline. Making a decent wage, finally being granted child support, and moving out of her mother’s house was no picnic. Nothing came easy, and now this.
“I was supposed to get back a huge refund. And now you messed everything up. I-I was counting on that money.” Her throat swelled with pain. She felt a headache coming on. Soon her cheeks were wet. “And I charged a bunch of shit on my credit cards thinking that I could pay it all off once the bill came.”
“Damn. That’s messed up. You shouldn’t have spent money that you don’t even have for sure.”
“But I only did it because you told me, Rashad, you promised I could claim Hayley. And now I’ll have to do a paper return, because doing it the other way just won’t work.”
“Damn.”
“‘Damn’? Is that all you have to say?”
“What else am I supposed to say? I’m sorry for forgetting?”
“Negro, you sorry alright. That’s what gets me, you don’t give a fuck how your so-called memory loss has put me in a bad spot.”
“No, you spending money you don’t have put you there, not me.”
“Rashad, I swear to God, you just don’t get it.” She let out a high-pitched scream. “I’m so mad I could kill your self-centered, reneging ass. You lied to me and now you’ve fucked up my money.”
“Stop all that screaming like you crazy and calm down. I suggest you find your receipts and take back the stuff you bought. You probably don’t need it anyway. Like, more purses and shoes. Women! Just return all that shit and get the credit put back on your card.”
“I can buy whatever I want to buy.”
“And that’s why you in the jam you’re in now. No self-control. Alexis, you can always rebuy everything later. Find your receipts and return that shit today.”
“That’s easy for you to say. I don’t even have the receipts anymore, dummy. They’ve been tossed away in the garbage. And I’ll only get store credit, that’s all.”
“Oops, you really did it this time.”
“Ugh, I did it? Is that what you think?”
“That’s what it sounds like to me.”
“Rashad, I can’t believe how selfish you are. You just don’t care about anyone but you.”
“That’s not true, Skillet, and you know it. I still have receipts for all kinds of nice shit that I’ve bought for both you and our daughter.” He heard her crying and it tore him up inside. “Look, calm down, alright? It was an honest mistake. I have so much on my mind these days, I can’t think clearly.”
“Fuck calming down. You’re still a selfish prick with no conscience. You make me sick.”
He didn’t appreciate Alexis cracking on him, although he could understand her anger. But to call him selfish when he considered himself one of the most generous people she’d ever met made him feel indignant.
“If I am so selfish, why would I pay three months’ rent in advance for Nicole to have her own apartment?”
Alexis sniffed. “So you really did that for her?”
“Yeah, I did. And I’m still posted up at our crib.”
“That’s cold-blooded. Most guys would let the wife get the house.”
“I’m not most guys.”
“We know that already.” Alexis paused. She tried to stay reasonable in dealing with Rashad, but a feeling of dread came over her.
“Look, Rashad, if you are as nice or considerate as you say you are, you’d better find a way to get me some of that money that you got from the government. I mean it. Part of that’s mine, and don’t you forget it. I am not getting into deeper credit card debt because of you. So, do something about it soon or you’ll wish you had.”
“Are you actually threatening me? I will answer for you, because I know you’re smarter than that.”
“You don’t know shit.”
“Skillet, I told you it was a simple oversight.”
She hung up on him when he tried to explain himself. She didn’t care anymore. Caring about Rashad never got her anywhere. And she was sick of defending him.
Her emotions clouded her judgment. She grabbed her purse and cell phone and ran out to her car. She started the engine and began to drive.
Soon Alexis had entered the freeway, driving faster than what the law allowed. As she raced down the road, she barely paid attention to the cars she passed. She felt upset and betrayed. And she had no idea how to make sense of what had just happened.
Out the corner of her eye, she noticed a van riding alongside of her; it tried to keep up with her speed. A car horn honked. She saw the Eason & Son logo on the van. Rashad rolled down his driver’s-side window. He motioned with his hand. She scowled at him. The sight of this man made her sick. She envisioned herself jerking her steering wheel and swiping his vehicle as hard as she could. Hitting him so forcefully that he’d lose control and the van would roll over with him trapped inside.
Her cell phone rang. It was him. How dare he call her? What did he have to say? Whatever it was Alexis didn’t want to hear it. She wanted him to disappear forever. It felt wrong to entertain such dark, brooding thoughts, but at the time she didn’t care. She gripped the steering wheel in her hand and gave him a vicious glare. His mouth was moving, but she couldn’t make out what he was saying.
She told herself, “Just do it.” Alexis clutched the steering wheel tightly between her hands. She pressed her foot against the accelerator and stared into her rearview mirror. A police car swiftly pulled up behind her, its lights flashing. The color drained from Alexis’s face. She became confused. Did the police want her for something? But why? Just because she’d thought about doing harm to someone? The police car continued to follow her and flashed its lights again. She pulled over to the shoulder and her tires came to a stop. Rashad, who had slowed down as he observed Alexis, drove over onto the shoulder just ahead of her and parked.
The officer came over to Alexis and she rolled down her window.
“What did I do? Was I going too fast?”
“Yes, ma’am. I clocked you at twenty miles over the speed limit. But something’s going on with your car. Didn’t you notice all that smoke pouring out of the exhaust?”
“No, I did not.”
“Yeah, you may need a diagnostic. It could be a bad fuel pressure regulator, or leaky fuel injectors.”
“You sound like a mechanic, not a cop.”
“Oh, I’m definitely a cop. May I see your license and insurance, ma’am?”
She cooperated and handed over her info. Rashad had gotten out of his car by then, but he remained at a close distance, quietly watching them. Alexis got cited for speeding. When the officer was done speaking with her and had driven off, Rashad came over to Alexis; she sat behind the wheel looking furious.
“Just more shit to add to my other shit. I gotta go to court and pay this fucking ticket or go to defensive driving and that costs money, too. Plus I gotta go find a mechanic to fix this stupid car.”
“I tried to warn you that something was wrong with your car, but you acted like you didn’t want to listen when I was waving at you. Don’t be this way, Alexis. I’m sorry about the tax thing. I promise to give you some money. In fact, here.” Rashad reached into his slacks and pulled out his wallet. He counted out five hundred-dollar bills plus three twenties.
“This should help for now, okay? I’ll give you some more later. But be careful. I-I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”
Alexis accepted the cash and nodded. At first she couldn’t look him in the eyes. She couldn’t open her mouth to say anything to him. But soon her eyes told him thank you. Her eyes revealed that as mad as she was, she didn’t want anything bad to happen to him, either. And she was glad she’d stopped herself from hurting him.
* * *
When shit gets real, there’s nothing else to do but deal with it. Legal papers arrived via courier at Nicole’s job. Her coworkers gave her odd looks. A couple of times she’d had to take emergency vacation days just to handle her business matters. Change of address, getting utilities placed in her name. Life quickly became overwhelming, and Nicole got to the point where she didn’t know what to do.
She had just gotten off work and drove straight home to her new apartment. She changed into a pair of shorts and a T-shirt and slid her feet into some sandals. When she combed her hair and looked in the bathroom mirror, she noticed that her hair was beginning to fall out. Why was this happening to her? No answer she came up with could console her.
Nicole took a deep breath and picked up her cell phone. It had been a while since she’d erased Shyla’s info from her address book. But she scrolled through all her text messages until she found her info. She unblocked the number and dialed.
Shyla’s number rang one time and went straight into voice mail.
“Blocked,” she muttered. Nicole was so upset that she grabbed her purse. She called Nadia.
“Hi there. I know I’m supposed to pick up Emmy, but an emergency has come up. So I will get her later on if that’s alright with you.”
“So you’re not coming to get your daughter soon? Ms. Nicole, I-I had other plans. I was going to go out tonight.”
“Nadia, please. I really need your help right now.”
“I can reschedule, no problem.”
“Thanks so much.” Nicole decided to unexpectedly stop by Nadia’s. She raced to Nadia’s place and rang the doorbell. Nadia answered, looking surprised.
“I’m sorry for this, I’m sorry for the inconvenience.” Nicole pressed a fifty in her hand. “Let me handle some business real quick and then you’ll be free to do whatever you had planned to do.”
“Okay.” Nadia smiled and tucked the cash in her bra.
Nicole ran and hopped back in her Jeep. She drove over to Shyla’s, but when she saw a lot of cars in the driveway she decided to keep moving. She continued traveling along the streets with no idea what her future held.
At one point Nicole glanced up and saw a huge billboard. It was an advertisement for a church called Solomon’s Temple. In the photo, the pastor, London P. Solomon, stood next to a woman whom Nicole assumed was his wife. His hands were outstretched. Soon she found herself driving in the direction of the church.
Once she found its location, she parked, got out of the car, and practically ran to the front entrance. The church felt majestic and appeared white and pristine. She wondered if she looked out of place. Was she dressed properly? She was afraid that she wouldn’t fit in when it came to church. But she opened the double doors and went inside anyway.
Nicole wandered around until she came across a directory mounted in the hallway. She decided to go to the administration office. Even though it was a weekday, there was plenty of activity going on. As soon as she entered the offices, a couple of women smiled and greeted her.
“May I help you?” one of them said.
“Yes.” She nodded. “I need help.”
The woman took one look at Nicole and gently grabbed her hand. She led Nicole inside a suite of offices, where Nicole saw several men and women behind desks answering telephones.
“That’s our crisis line room,” the woman explained.
She continued past the phone banks and into another area.
“Sit here. Someone will be right with you.”
Then she left. Nicole was all by herself in a place she’d never been before. She was tempted to quietly rush out of the church. She rose to her feet. And that’s when a woman quietly stepped up next to her and extended her hand.
“Hello, little sister. I’m Sister Zaire.”
Nicole reluctantly shook her hand. She sat back down on the edge of the chair. She discreetly touched the bottom of her eyelids and let her fingers absorb the wetness that had gathered there.
“You need a tissue?” Without waiting for Nicole’s answer, Sister Zaire handed her a box.
Nicole took it and mumbled thanks.
“Someone told me you said you need help. I’ll try my best. What brings you here?”
Nicole’s story unfolded in short, awkward sentences. She felt like a fool . . . a stranger pouring out her heart to a stranger. She wanted to run and hide, but the lady seemed so kind and inviting.
“I’m sorry for bothering you, but I have no one else to talk to. Not really. My-my best friend hates my guts. No one at work really likes me. Even my own husband doesn’t love me anymore. I’m not sure if he ever did.”
Sister Zaire patted Nicole’s hand.
“It’s going to be alright. Trust and believe.”
“Believe?”
She nodded. “Believe even if you can’t see. That’s what faith is. Blind faith believes when nothing is physically in front of you. I will say this, little sister, God loves you. Believe that.”
Nicole wiped her eyes again. The woman wore an Afrocentric dashiki. She looked calm and powerful. Her voice was strong, spirited, and sure. Her head was held high, like she knew who she was and was proud of it.
“Anyway, Sister Zaire, everything in my life is falling apart. And it used to be perfect.”
The woman sat back in her swivel chair. “Define ‘perfect’.”
“I had my man, my house, a good job, a perfect baby who is cute, healthy, funny, and feisty. The man that I loved was my husband, and I was always scared that he might not want me back a while ago. I did some things that could have made him walk away. But he stayed. We got married. I wanted him so bad.”
“I see.” She studied Nicole with a kindly expression.
“Allow me to say this, little sister. Our definition of perfection is when everything is going exactly the way that we want it to go.”
“Yes, I guess you’re right.”
“But now things in your life aren’t going your way. And that doesn’t feel good. It feels painful.”
“Yes. You described my life perfectly. I wake up in pain, and I go to bed in pain.”
“Let me say this about perfection. God’s perfect plan can involve pain. Take, for example, when he allowed his only Son to suffer and die on a cross for the sins of the world. A plan that involved pain, so that the world could have joy through the death of his loving Son, Jesus.”
Nicole tried not to flinch every time Sister Zaire said “God” or “Jesus.” She felt like they were right in the room staring at her, and it made her feel spooked.
“In other words, little sister, perfection may not always feel good, but there can be purpose in the pain.”
“I’m not trying to be funny, but I’m not exactly God’s best child. So why do I have to feel the pain I’m going through now?”
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s a wake-up call. Like our bodies can hurt to let us know we need to get something checked out at the doctor due to physical pain we experience. Perhaps the emotional pain is trying to tell you the same thing. It’s something you have to figure out. Maybe you need to walk in another direction, make a different decision, and do it until the pain that you feel goes away.”
But why did going in another direction have to mean losing her husband? She didn’t want that.
“I hear what you’re telling me, but this is what I think is happening. I think I made a few bad choices. And the bad choices overwhelmed any of my good choices. Now I’m paying for them big-time.”
“Key word. Choices. We have free choice. Sometimes that’s good, other times it hurts us, as you can probably testify to.” Sister Zaire looked as if she wanted to say more, but she grew quiet and simply stared at Nicole.
“Well, certain choices have definitely hurt me, Sister Zaire.”
“The good news is that the pain won’t last forever, even though it feels that way right now.”
“How do you know? Can you guarantee this is going to go away? When will it leave? When will I feel normal again?”
Sister Zaire laughed, her eyes sparkling with kindness, not judgment.
“One day, little sister, all the pain will disappear. That’s all I can tell you.”
“Oh, like one day when I’m dead and gone?”
“If you’re fortunate, you will live to see Him take the pain away.”
And she took Nicole’s hand and they sat there together in quiet reflection.
It hurt Nicole to keep her mouth shut, but for some reason she felt she needed to sit and remain silent. She thought about all the choices she’d made in her life and hoped that she could do better in the future. Do a million times better.