Damsels in Distress (5 page)

* * *

Celeste walked three blocks from Ginger's house and sat on a bench to wait for the next bus. Tears ran down her face as she thought about what had just happened back at Ginger's house. She and Portia had gone there to see about Ginger because Celeste had awakened with Ginger's well-being heavy on her heart. When Diane told Celeste that Ronald had called off for Ginger that morning, Celeste knew her friend was in trouble and she had to get to her.

Celeste went over the events in her mind to try to figure out just how the situation had gone so wrong. At what point did a caring visit turn into an all-out brawl between her and her two best friends? The words that were said had cut each other deeply. Celeste knew that fight was worse than any other they'd had. Scabs had been snatched off of sores and old wounds had resurfaced. Too much damage was done and Celeste knew, deep down inside, that there was no turning back.

Suddenly she felt her menstrual cycle begin to flow. It was proof that no baby had been conceived over the weekend, and confirmation of what Celeste already knew but had yet to tell her husband. She was living a lie and her marriage would soon suffer if she didn't confess to Anthony what had happened years ago in a dark, dingy, cold basement.

Celeste couldn't cry on Ginger's or Portia's shoulders anymore. They weren't there to console Celeste and encourage her to keep her head up and to keep the faith that her womb would someday bring forth a child. Celeste placed her face in her hands and cried. She called on her Heavenly Father. “My Lord, please help me.”

It had been three weeks since Portia and Celeste stood in the middle of Ginger's living room and the three of them cursed each other. In church they didn't acknowledge one another whatsoever. For the past twenty-one nights, unbeknownst to them, Ginger, Portia, and Celeste cried themselves to sleep, missing one another.

In the past, comforting and holding Celeste as she sniffled off to dreamland after an argument with her best friends was nothing new to Anthony. When he married Celeste six years ago, he also married the relationship she shared with Portia and Ginger. It had been many a night since he vowed to love, honor, and cherish Celeste that Anthony listened to her side of an argument after a heated fellowship with her best friends.

It was Anthony who got an earful about how inconsiderate Ginger and Portia had been. But no matter how bad the disagreements were, within seventy-two hours, one of them would make the telephone call that brought the trio back together again.

However, it had been almost a month since Celeste had spoken to her friends and Anthony was fit to be tied at her attitude. For almost a month, Celeste served him overcooked meals and undercooked meals. At least four nights of the week Celeste opted for takeout.

She told Anthony if she never set eyes on her best friends again, it would be too soon. Yet each time the telephone rang and
Portia Dunn
or
Ginger Brown
didn't show on the caller identification, Celeste would pout. Anthony, a motorman for the Chicago Transit Authority, was constantly paged throughout the day with urgent messages from Celeste. In between runs, Anthony would return her calls just to hear her say, “I can't believe neither one of them has called yet,” or “Do you think I was wrong, Tony?”

Anthony never took sides when it came to resolving an issue between his wife and her friends. Whenever Celeste asked for his opinion on a matter, Anthony would say, “Celeste, that's between you and your girls,” and he would leave it at that. Anthony learned his lesson years ago when he told Celeste that she was wrong in a situation with Portia and Ginger and should be the one to apologize. That bit of advice had cost him two nights of celibacy. Celeste told Anthony that he should always side with his wife no matter what the case may be.

Anthony drove Celeste to work and kissed her cheek before she exited the car. “Have a great day, baby,” he encouraged her.

Celeste smiled slightly at him then sighed. “I'll try. Is there anything in particular you want to stop and get for dinner tonight?”

Anthony exhaled loudly. “Takeout again, Celeste? We've been eating fast food every other night for the past month.”

Celeste sighed louder. “I just haven't been in the mood to cook.”

“Celeste, you haven't been in the mood to cook, clean, do laundry, talk, or make love. Whatever this issue is that you have with your girls, I suggest you do what you gotta do to squash it. For weeks I've watched you slam doors and throw things. Then you cursed at me when you got your period. I let you have your moment because your doctor said that stress from trying to conceive would be overwhelming. But I'm not Ginger or Portia. I'm your husband and I ain't done a darn thing to you.

“Normally the three of you would have made up by now but this is ridiculous. You can be mad, Celeste, but be mad at the right people. Eating fast food four times a week stops today. The slamming of doors stops today. Turning your back to me when we go to bed at night stops today. Having cramps doesn't justify you talking to me anyway you want. And I want you to stop paging me throughout the day whining about Ginger and Portia.”

Celeste looked at her husband with tears in her eyes but Anthony didn't regret what he'd just said to her. Celeste needed to understand that she couldn't continue to take out her frustrations on him or their marriage. Her tears didn't move him that morning.

“I've had enough of this crap,” Anthony stated. “When I pick you up after work we're gonna go home and cook dinner together. Then we'll finish the evening off with a little one-on-one in the bedroom.”

Celeste's tears dripped onto her cheeks. She knew Anthony was right. He'd always been her biggest supporter and he didn't deserve to be treated that way. “Okay.”

With his first finger Anthony wiped Celeste's tears then leaned over and softly kissed her lips. “You know I love you, right?”

Celeste smiled. “I do.”

* * *

They arrived home at six-fifteen in the evening and Celeste immediately walked to the caller identification box that sat on an end table in the living room. She pressed the scan button. Ginger or Portia hadn't called her cellular phone all day but Celeste was hopeful that one of them would have called her home and left a message. There had been two calls but neither call was from Portia or Ginger.

Anthony saw the disappointed expression on Celeste's face. “They didn't call, huh?”

Celeste didn't answer him.

Anthony stepped to her. “Baby, why are you doing this to yourself? Just call your girls. You know you want to.”

“After what they said to me, Tony? I don't think so.”

“Celeste, you never told me what Ginger and Portia said that's got you so upset with them. What did they say?”

Celeste froze. She and Anthony had been married for six years and she had yet to share with him what happened during her sophomore year in high school. Celeste couldn't tell him that Ginger's recollection of the abortion she had in high school was the reason the three of them weren't speaking.

Early in her marriage, in a private session with her gynecologist, Dr. Bindu, Celeste revealed her secret. After examining Celeste, Dr. Bindu explained to her that the wire coat hanger that was used many years ago had caused irreparable damage. Her right fallopian tube had been punctured and her entire uterine wall was contaminated. Too much scar tissue had developed. In his opinion Dr. Bindu advised Celeste that her chances of conceiving were next to impossible.

Celeste had decided that it was in her best interest if she didn't share the news with Anthony. Instead, for years, she had kept the secret and prayed for a miracle. She would continue to pray that God would bless her womb and Anthony would never have to know about the abortion.

Celeste stood in the middle of her living room wondering how she could answer Anthony's question without revealing the truth. “All of the other times when Ginger, Portia, and I fell out, you didn't wanna know any of the details. So, why are you asking questions now?”

“Because your arguments usually don't last longer than two days,” Anthony responded. “In the past the three of you would have made up by now. But you've been walking around here miserable and with your lips poked out for almost a whole month. And every new day that passes when Ginger or Portia don't call, you get even more depressed. That tells me that what happened between y'all had to be something heavy. So, what was it?”

Celeste looked at the mail she'd gotten from the mailbox as she walked toward their bedroom. “It's sista stuff, Tony. You wouldn't understand. By the way, your mother called,” she said over her shoulder.

* * *

An hour and a half later, Anthony and Celeste were at the kitchen table finishing a meal consisting of broiled tilapia, steamed asparagus, and baked potatoes.

Anthony savored his meal. “Celeste, baby, you put your foot in these potatoes.” He inhaled his food and licked his fingers as though he'd gone a whole year without a decent home-cooked meal rather than a month.

Celeste smiled. “I'm glad you are enjoying them. Wait 'til you taste the dessert. I put both my feet in it.”

Anthony became excited. “What is it?”

She smiled. “Your favorite.”

He returned Celeste's smile. “Strawberry shortcake?”

Celeste nodded her head. Anthony leaned over and kissed Celeste's lips. He then stood from the table and hurried over to the refrigerator. Anthony retrieved the strawberry shortcake from the refrigerator and brought it back to the table. He grabbed two saucers and a knife from the dish rack and sat down. He sliced generous portions for Celeste and himself.

Celeste laughed at the way Anthony hummed as he savored his dessert. “You remind me of a little boy sitting in a high chair swinging his feet while he eats a snack.”

Anthony chuckled. “What can I say? It's been awhile.”

After dessert Celeste took the dinner dishes to the sink to wash them. She dried the dishes, set them in the dish rack, and turned off the kitchen light. She went into the living room and sat on the sofa. She pressed the scan button on the caller identification again to look for Dr. Bindu's office number. He was the second person who had called.

When Celeste had found his number she picked up the telephone and dialed. Anthony told Celeste that he was going downstairs to the basement to start a load of laundry.

With Anthony out of earshot, Celeste felt it was safe to make the call. It was late in the evening and Celeste was prepared to just leave a message on the answering service. She was surprised when her call was answered.

“Dr. Bindu's office, may I help you?” the chipper receptionist answered.

“Is this Sharla?” Celeste asked.

“Yes, it is.”

“Hi, Sharla. It's Celeste Harper.”

“Oh, hi Celeste. How's it going?”

Celeste loved calling Dr. Bindu's office. Sharla was always in a good mood. “Everything is good, Sharla. Thanks for asking.”

“Did you get your period this month?” At her first appointment with Dr. Bindu, while Celeste sat and waited for her name to be called, she and Sharla had hit it off. Without going into great detail Celeste confessed to Sharla that she and her husband hadn't been successful in conceiving a baby. Sharla told Celeste that if anyone could help her become pregnant, Dr. Bindu could. She had witnessed many women get treated by Dr. Bindu and overcome their fertility issues. Sharla insisted that Celeste was in good hands.

“Yeah, unfortunately I did. But I'm returning Dr. Bindu's call. Is he in?”

“He's just finishing with a patient. Hold on a moment.”

Celeste shifted her position on the sofa and placed her legs beneath her in the shape of a pretzel. She looked over her shoulder to make sure Anthony wasn't in earshot of her telephone call.

A couple of minutes later Dr. Bindu was on the line. “Mrs. Harper, how are you?”

“I'm fine, Dr. Bindu,” Celeste whispered. “I'm a bit puzzled why you called.”

From the basement, Anthony came upstairs, went to the telephone on the kitchen wall, and picked up the receiver to call his mother.

“Well, I'm concerned about the results of your latest exam,” Dr. Bindu explained. “There's more scar tissue than I thought. You said a wire coat hanger was used to abort the fetus years ago and it seems that the hanger may have caused more damage than I originally detected. I'm pretty sure this is the reason why your periods are so heavy. I've detected fibroid cysts and I'm afraid that you and I should discuss whether a partial hysterectomy is necessary.”

Anthony's mouth fell open. He poked his head around the doorway to the kitchen and saw Celeste sitting on the living room sofa with her back to him. Anthony placed the telephone on its base.

Celeste heard the click and turned around. She saw Anthony walking her way. Suddenly all the blood drained from her face. She quickly disconnected the call with Dr. Bindu and looked up at him. The expression on Anthony's face told Celeste that he'd heard the entire conversation.

Anthony's eyes were the size of golf balls. “What the heck was he talking about?”

Celeste became nervous, but she wasn't going to confirm or confess anything until Anthony revealed that he knew her secret. “Um, that was Dr. Bindu.”

“I know who it was, Celeste. What was he saying about a coat hanger and abortion?”

Celeste's heart beat so fast she felt it was about to explode from her chest. Her entire body shook with nervousness. She felt as though she had pneumonia. She was chilled to the bone yet she was burning up.

The secret she had hidden from her husband for years was now exposed. That was the moment that Celeste prayed she would never have to face. She had been willing to keep living the lie and take it to her grave if it would save her marriage.