Free Best Dressed Lie (Keisha Jackson) by Kimberly Batiste Page B

“Father God, please heal Keisha’s body. She’s been
through so much Lord, she needs you. Father God, heal her
body and soul, may her pain cease, may her strength increase,
may her fears be released, and may blessings, love, and joy
surround her. Amen.”
There was a discreet knock at the door.
“Keisha Jackson?” the man in the white coat said, looking
down at my chart, making his way into the room. Zan slowly
raised her head.
“Hello, I’m Dr. Baker,” he said, reaching out to shake her
hand. She stayed on her knees.
“Are you a family member?” he asked, eyeing Zan. She got
up from the floor, without speaking and staggered out of the
room. The doctor checked my blood pressure, and then stared
at the monitor, writing at the same time. Then he studied the
blood work results.
“Miss Jackson, I have some results and a couple of
questions for you,” he said, licking the tip of his finger and
turning a page.
I nodded my head to let him know I was alert.
“First I’ll give you some of your results, and then ask
questions,” he said, smiling.
“You have a fractured rib, and a mandibular fracture
known as a broken jaw . The swelling and the bruising will
get worse before better. I suggest that you have no visitors for
24 hours.”
He
cleared his throat before asking another question,
“Have you ever used drugs?” I moved my head side to side
again. I never took my eyes off Dr. Baker.
I noticed the troubled expression as he continued reading
my chart. He focused on one spot in my chart. He looked at
me, closed my chart and placed it on the bed next to my legs.
He moved in closer to me, took my hand, inhaled and slowly
exhaled. “Miss Jackson, we got some of your blood work
results,” he said taking off his glasses. “I’m sorry to say this, but
you suffered a miscarriage.”
I lay there unable to move or even blink.
“I’m terribly sorry,” he said, my hand and gently holding it
between his. After a few moments with no reaction from me,
he felt the need to give me some time alone. He placed my
hand on the bed and slowly got up.
My tears rolled down the side of my face like a waterfall.
Although I couldn’t speak, I heard every word came out of his
mouth. My heart raced as I waited for him to come back into
the room and tell me it was an error. I wanted him to say,
you’re pregnant. Numbness washed through me. I couldn’t
believe that the precious life I was unaware of died inside of
me.
EIGHT
    It was two days after the catastrophe and Randy never
showed up. Zan went out and bought me some clothes and
personal items, She was afraid of going to Randy’s place. The
hospital was in the process of discharging me. I did not want
to go back home. Zan offered me a room at her place and I
accepted, despite her nasty cats.
    “I’m so excited you’re staying,” she said, piling on her
lipstick. “You can sleep in Jason’s room. I cleaned it up nicely
for you. I changed the sheets and put the TV from the family
room in there. I also cooked your favorite meal; spaghetti and
meatballs.”
    Everything was happening so fast. I went from attending a
company picnic, to driving home and nearly getting killed.
Zan was acting very cheerful trying to make me feel better,
but the truth was I almost died a couple of days ago. I needed
answers.
“Zan, where is Randy?” I asked for the hundredth time.
    “I don’t know. I should be asking you that,” she said,
defensively.
It was strange that he had not called or been to see me. No
one seemed to be interested in what happened to me. Zan was
acting weird,
almost disinterested and unconcerned with
what happened. This was especially odd since she was the
nosiest person alive. I decided to wait until after we left the
hospital before asking any more questions.
“Miss Jacksons, your discharge papers are ready. The
transporter will wheel you down stairs,” said the nurse. She
gave Zan the side eye, because she had half an unlit cigarette
in her hand.