I am starting to realize that I have gotten myself into an extremely troubling situation. He picks me up to take me to work. He gets food for my lunch to keep me from leaving the office. If I’m in the restroom too long he’ll come to look for me to “see if I’m okay”, if he sees me talking to another woman or hears me talking to a woman in the restroom, he waits to see who she is and then keeps his eyes on her to make sure we don’t establish a friendship.
I remember telling him how a woman at the kiosk where I get coffee on the rare occasion that I get to take the train to work because he’s unable to pick me up. I prayed for those days. Anyway, I mentioned that she and I always have pleasant conversations and that she said I remind her of her sister who she misses very much. I enjoy the pleasantries between us, but I noticed on a couple of occasions that she would give me more cookies than I paid for. When I noticed on this occasion, he saw me sitting at my desk looking in the bag with a big smile after seeing that I hit the cookie lottery again. I was pleasantly surprised because I love wedding cookies. I’m sure she realized that because I get them each time, I order coffee.
He asked why I was smiling. I told him the story and his face turned red, his demeanor changed, and he said that she should be fired, that she was stealing cookies and that I was an accessory to her crime. I laughed and said, she owns the kiosk. Well to that he said, “Then, she’s a Dyke and she’s trying to hit on you.” I rolled my eyes, smiled, and said, “Don’t be ridiculous and don’t say Dyke that’s offensive to women who are gay. He gave me a mean look and walked away.
I worked the rest of the day with no drama. Being so busy all day and accomplishing so many tasks had me exhilarated and exhausted at the same time. As we were leaving, I noticed he was quiet. When we got into the elevator, he looked at me like I was public enemy number one. By then I learned not to ask what was wrong. Which I think only made him angrier that I didn’t inquire. So, we get into the car, still silence. As soon as we get on the beltway where there is no conceivable way for me to get out of the car, he looks over at me and says, “Bitch, don’t you ever correct me when I’m talking to you, if you want to be with that Dyke then go be with her!”
Being the strong, independent, outspoken women, I had been before HIM, I said, I am not gay, and neither is she as far as I know and I’m also not a Bitch and don’t ever call me that again. Well, that didn’t go over well, he told me that he would pull over a throw me off the fucking bridge and furthermore, tomorrow let my Dyke ass girlfriend give me cookies and a fucking job.
I know you are asking yourself what is wrong with me. I asked myself that more times than there are people in the world, but as a recently separated, mother with children, trying to pay a mortgage that two people used to pay, and getting absolutely no assistance from my husband, I feared losing my home, having to move in with my mother (GOD forbid) relocating and uprooting my children from the only home they’ve ever known. I was stressed, tired and afraid of what was going to happen to us if I couldn’t figure out how to save my family from the devastation that was taking over my life. The only solution was to work for a salary that would allow me to pay the mortgage on my own, while performing a job that I find challenging and rewarding. The only downside is that I not only work for, but out of necessity, I found myself in a relationship with the devil.
I drove to work the following day, praying that I still had a job. I arrive at my office where there was a box wrapped with an oversized pink ribbon, a large Starbucks coffee and a note that read, I want you to have ANYTHING and EVERYTHING your heart desires. I open the box, it is full of wedding cookies, enough to feed the entire office but it wasn’t bought from the Kiosk. I didn’t want the cookies, but I smiled and ate one to prevent him from causing a scene if I were to appear the least bit ungrateful.
My nightly prayer was to ask GOD if this was what HE intended for my life.
Photo Credit: Alex Padurariu
