Free My Soul Cries Out by Sherri L. Lewis

“Thank you, Jesus.”
    â€œI’m sorry, Ms. Day. I thought the nurse told you already. How insensitive of me.”
    â€œI’m sorry. I didn’t mean to . . . what did my pap show?”
    â€œYour pap smear just has a mild abnormality on it . . .”
    I zoned out on the rest of her explanation. What difference did it make? I wasn’t HIV positive. I didn’t even have chlamydia.
    â€œNothing worrisome. Just something we’ll need to repeat in a few months.”
    â€œCan I get a copy of it? I’ll need to take it to my doctor.” No way in the world I was ever coming back here again.
    â€œSure. I’ll have the nurse copy it for you. Just make sure you follow up.”
    â€œI will. Thanks for everything. Really.” I said it like she was responsible for my negative results.
    I practically danced out to my car. As soon as I got in, I dialed Trina. She didn’t answer. I left a message. “Hey, girl! Just wanted to let you know I’m disease free, praise the Lord! I’ll see you later tonight.”
    I greeted Anthony with a big grin when I got back to the office. “Hey, Ant. I’m back. Did you miss me?”
    â€œAlways, Miss Beautiful. The sun don’t shine when you ain’t here.” He looked me up and down. “What you so happy about? You musta got you a quickie at lunch. Girl, that’s the best kind.”
    â€œShut up, Anthony.”
    â€œWell, goodbye, Miss Beautiful and hello Miss Attitude. I guess you didn’t get none. Is that what’s been wrong with you lately? Kevin ain’t takin’ care of you?”
    He didn’t know how close he was to me smacking him upside his big peanut head. “You know what, Anthony? I don’t think it’s appropriate for you to be all up in my life. I would prefer you to keep our relationship purely professional.”
    He picked up his telephone. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. I’ma have to give Mr. Kevin a call and tell him to handle his business so we can all stop catching attitude around here. Don’t worry, sugar. Aunt Tony’ll make sure you get what you need.” He gave me his big wink and signature giggle.
    I had to make myself laugh. My cell phone rang. I looked at the caller ID. Speak of the devil. I walked into the lab so no one could hear me.
    â€œYes, Kevin?”
    â€œI can’t believe you answered the phone.”
    â€œWhat do you want?” It was hard not to be rude.
    â€œBishop Walker wants to meet with us Sunday after church. He said he wants to talk to us together.”
    â€œAbout what?”
    â€œUh . . . about . . . uh . . . what’s going on.” Kevin sounded surprised by my question.
    â€œI don’t see what there is to talk about.”
    â€œHe wants to talk about what’s next and how to work this out.”
    â€œWork what out? There’s nothing to work out.” I sat down in the phlebotomy chair and fingered the lavender-, red-, and blue-topped tubes.
    â€œI . . . we . . . okay. I understand you’re still angry. Maybe we should give this some time and meet with him next week. Or whenever you’re ready.”
    â€œWhat do you think is going to change in a week? I don’t understand what it is you want.”
    â€œI want . . . I want . . . us. Our marriage. I want us to work this out.”
    â€œAre you serious?”
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œYou think we have a marriage? All we have is a lie. How could you possibly think I would even think about staying married to you?”
    Kevin was quiet. I hated to think of the pain my words were causing him. I had to picture the incident to keep enough anger in my heart to stand my ground. One glimpse flashing through my mind was more than enough.
    â€œPlease don’t call me anymore. We have nothing to talk about.”
    â€œWill you come out of respect for Bishop Walker? He is our pastor, and if we’re not