âThank you, Jesus.â
âIâm sorry, Ms. Day. I thought the nurse told you already. How insensitive of me.â
âIâm sorry. I didnât mean to . . . what did my pap show?â
âYour pap smear just has a mild abnormality on it . . .â
I zoned out on the rest of her explanation. What difference did it make? I wasnât HIV positive. I didnât even have chlamydia.
âNothing worrisome. Just something weâll need to repeat in a few months.â
âCan I get a copy of it? Iâll need to take it to my doctor.â No way in the world I was ever coming back here again.
âSure. Iâll have the nurse copy it for you. Just make sure you follow up.â
âI will. Thanks for everything. Really.â 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 didnât answer. I left a message. âHey, girl! Just wanted to let you know Iâm disease free, praise the Lord! Iâll see you later tonight.â
I greeted Anthony with a big grin when I got back to the office. âHey, Ant. Iâm back. Did you miss me?â
âAlways, Miss Beautiful. The sun donât shine when you ainât here.â He looked me up and down. âWhat you so happy about? You musta got you a quickie at lunch. Girl, thatâs the best kind.â
âShut up, Anthony.â
âWell, goodbye, Miss Beautiful and hello Miss Attitude. I guess you didnât get none. Is that whatâs been wrong with you lately? Kevin ainât takinâ care of you?â
He didnât know how close he was to me smacking him upside his big peanut head. âYou know what, Anthony? I donât think itâs appropriate for you to be all up in my life. I would prefer you to keep our relationship purely professional.â
He picked up his telephone. âYeah, thatâs what I thought. Iâma have to give Mr. Kevin a call and tell him to handle his business so we can all stop catching attitude around here. Donât worry, sugar. Aunt Tonyâll make sure you get what you need.â 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.
âYes, Kevin?â
âI canât believe you answered the phone.â
âWhat do you want?â It was hard not to be rude.
âBishop Walker wants to meet with us Sunday after church. He said he wants to talk to us together.â
âAbout what?â
âUh . . . about . . . uh . . . whatâs going on.â Kevin sounded surprised by my question.
âI donât see what there is to talk about.â
âHe wants to talk about whatâs next and how to work this out.â
âWork what out? Thereâs nothing to work out.â I sat down in the phlebotomy chair and fingered the lavender-, red-, and blue-topped tubes.
âI . . . we . . . okay. I understand youâre still angry. Maybe we should give this some time and meet with him next week. Or whenever youâre ready.â
âWhat do you think is going to change in a week? I donât understand what it is you want.â
âI want . . . I want . . . us. Our marriage. I want us to work this out.â
âAre you serious?â
âWhat do you mean?â
âYou 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?â
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.
âPlease donât call me anymore. We have nothing to talk about.â
âWill you come out of respect for Bishop Walker? He is our pastor, and if weâre not
Cordwainer Smith, selected by Hank Davis