Waiting to Exhale (31 page)

"I know exactly what I'm saying. I'm not that stressed out. Well, I am, but I mean every word I'm saying."

"Well, I won't lie. I still got my fingers crossed."

"You can have being married. It's not all it's cracked up to be. And believe me, Glo, you're probably better off being single. You just don't know it."

"All marriages aren't bad, Bernie."

"I didn't say they were, but it's so much bullshit you have to deal with, it's not worth it. Take it from me."

"Sometimes people marry the wrong person."

"Yeah, but how the hell are you supposed to know that until after you marry the motherfucker?"

"Good point," Gloria said.

They finished their coffee. "You feel like going to the mall?" Gloria asked.

"Why not," Bernadine said, and put their cups away.

They'd already been in and out of eight or nine stores. Gloria broke down and paid a hundred and fifty dollars for a pair of Air Jordans for Tarik. This was his reward for getting all B's on his report card. Plus, he'd been begging her to buy these damn sneakers for months. Bernadine American Expressed over a thousand dollars on things sh e d idn't want: more makeup, another black purse, another mustard- colored suit for whatever, and a cheap watch. She bought the kids stuff they definitely didn't need: another Nintendo game for John junior and some kind of talking computer for Onika.

"Look who's here," Gloria said to Bernadine, when she spotted Robin coming out of a lingerie shop. Robin had on a tight red top that crisscrossed in the front. It was cut low, as usual. She was wearing extra-tight bluejeans and a wide red belt. Her shoes were flat and red. Bernadine and Gloria both knew that Robin wouldn't be caught dead in sneakers.

"That girl ought to quit," Bernadine said, and looked down at her new watch. It was ten to five. "I'm not letting her talk me to death today. I've got to get home. The kids'll be there in an hour. John is prompt as hell."

"Hey!" Robin said, when she saw them. She was carrying a tiny white bag. From where they were standing, Bernadine thought Robin could easily pass for a tall Robin Givens, but as she got closer, it was clearly a resemblance that held up only from a distance. "What are you two broads doing here?"

"Take a wild guess," Gloria said.

"Look at all the bags! Some of us have it like that, but we peasants don't have the luxury of shopping till we drop."

"We were just on our way home," Bernadine said. "What's up?"

"Girl, you will not believe what has happened to me."

"What?" Bernadine asked.

"Come over here and sit down for a minute."

Bernadine and Gloria looked at each other.

"Just for a minute. I haven't seen you sluts in weeks. It seems like all we do is talk on the phone. Come on, just for a minute."

"All right, Robin," Bernadine sighed. "But I've gotta be in my car, driving, in fifteen minutes."

The three of them walked down the steps into the atrium, where there was a bunch of white tables for patrons of the row of little food shops that lined the wall, offering pizza, frozen yogurt, hot dogs, Greek and Chinese food, and chocolate chip cookies. Bernadine wandered around until she found the smoking section. They sat down.

"I met a man," Robin said, running her fingers through her hair.

When she leaned forward, her breasts plunged out from her blouse, as if they'd been suffocating.

"And?" Gloria said. "What else is new?"

"Shut up, Gloria. Anyway, he's ... I swear to God, I can't even hardly describe him."

"Try," Gloria said.

Bernadine lit a cigarette.

"His name is Troy. Does the name itself tell you anything?"

"What readily comes to my mind is Troy Donahue," Bernadine said. "Don't tell me he's white."

"Forget you, Bernie. No. He's definitely not white. He's seriously brown and too fine and he teaches at South Mountain Community College and he's the football coach and he's from Atlanta and he's an Aquarius, thank you, Jesus!"

"So I guess your prayers have finally been answered, then, huh?" Gloria said.

"Shut up, Gloria."

"What does he teach?" Bernadine asked, and flicked her ashes, even though there weren't any.

"Science."

"That's good," Bernadine said. "He's got a brain, which means you're off to a running start."

"Is he nice?" Gloria asked, and stood up.

"Nice is putting it mildly. For the last three days I have literally been intoxicated. Where you going?"

"I think I want to try that frozen yogurt," Gloria said. "Anybody else want some?"

"Not me," Robin said.

"Me either," Bernie said.

Gloria slipped her purse over her arm and headed toward the yogurt shop.

"Three whole days, huh?" Bernadine said. "What are you doing, Robin, trying to break the Guinness Book of Records?"

"Go to hell, Bernie."

"So where'd you meet this one?"

"You won't even believe this, girl. At the grocery store."

"The grocery store?"

"You heard me," she said, and drummed her shiny red nails on the tabletop. "Buying toilet paper, girl!"

"What ever happened to Michael?"

"He still calls. You know that woman we saw him with?"

"Yeah."

"Well, he said it wasn't anything serious. He only went out with her to be doing something. But I have to give it to him; old Michael said he wasn't gonna sit around the house twiddling his thumbs, waiting for me to tell him what move to make next."

"Right on for Michael."

"I still don't want to go out with him."

"Never burn all your bridges, Robin."

"Anyway, Troy is like a gift from God. Just what the doctor ordered."

"So what have you guvs been doing, or should I bother asking?"

"Go to hell, Bernie. You're starting to sound like Gloria."

"Then that means you've fucked him already."

"What's wrong with that?"

"Robin, I'll be glad when you learn how to control your hot ass. Don't you know how to say no?"

"Why should I?"

"To get to know the man first, damn."

"Think what would've happened if I had waited before I slept with Mr. No-Can-Fuck Michael."

"Maybe you would've found out you actually liked him."

"I do like him, but he just doesn't satisfy me. If there's one thing I have learned, it's that you can't teach a man how to fuck."

"I can't argue with that."

"Do you know how hard it is to suck a little dick?"

Bernadine started laughing. "I'm happy to say I don't."

"Anyway, girl, I think I want to keep this one."

"How can you even say some shit like this, Robin? You just met him three days ago!"

"You don't know a thing about vibes, do you, Bernie? You've been married too long, that's what your problem is."

"You're probably right."

Gloria came back empty-handed and didn't sit down. "You ready, Bernie?"

"Yes, I am," she said, and picked up her shopping bags.

"Will we see you at the meeting?" Gloria asked Robin.

"I guess so," she said. "When is it, again?"

"Thursday, April fifth. I thought you wrote it down."

"I did, but I don't have my calendar with me, Miss Oasis."

"Bye, Robin. We'll see you there. I hope."

"Bye," Robin said.

On the way out to the car, Bernadine looked at Gloria and started laughing.

"What's so funny?" Gloria asked.

"Robin. She's pitiful."

"I thought you knew that already," Gloria said, and took a little container of caramel swirl yogurt out of her purse.

Bernadine's fingers were clicking away on the adding machine. In front of her were at least ten different sets of control sheets. The auditors were coming next week. If she didn't have the figures in order by then, she'd be in deep shit. It was her own fault, for putting it off, but she'd been so swamped, she hardly knew where to begin. One of the secretaries had quit, which was another reason why everything was backed up. Bernadine needed an assistant, but her boss was too cheap to get her one. Part of her job was paying her clients' bills. She wrote the checks-for the IRS, for the payroll, for any maintenance problems that arose at the properties, and for emergencies. She also maintained ledgers of all fiscal transactions and made sure every source of income and disbursements was accounted for. One of the companies Bernadine represented owned a "chain" of nursing homes. This morning, she'd been informed that they were being sued. Somehow the food at one of the facilities had gone bad, and several of the residents had gotten food poisoning. Two had died. Needless to say, the office was crazy. And today-of all days-Bernadine had a doctor's appointment she couldn't afford to cancel.

Her office was full of smoke. The receptionist buzzed her. "It's Herbert, on line two."

What does he want now? Bernadine said to herself. This was the second time he'd called her today. It was only eleven o'clock. She picked up the phone. "What can I do for you, Herbert?"

"I wanted to see what you were doing for lunch."

"I'm busy."

"What about dinner?"

"I'm busy. Don't you ever eat at home?"

"Not if I don't have to. I'd rather be with you," he said.

"Look, Herbert. I've got tons of work to do, I'll probably have to work late, and I don't know when I'm going to have some free time."

"What about after the kids go to sleep tonight? Can I come over for a little while?"

"Are you crazy? You know, Herbert, this is getting a little deeper than I wanted it to get."

The receptionist tapped on her door. "It's the school. On line one. Onika's sick."

"Shit!" Bernadine said. "Herbert, I have to go. Something's wrong with my daughter. I'll talk to you next week," she said, and pressed the other line. Her heart was pounding. "What's wrong with my daughter?" she asked.

The school nurse said Onika had a temperature of 103; Bernadine should pick her up as soon as possible and take her to a doctor if it doesn't go down. Pick her up? I can't stop in the middle of this shit and go pick her up. Her first inclination was to call John, but she remembered he was in Mexico, vacationing. She lit another cigarette without realizing one was still burning in the ashtray. Onika's school was twenty-five minutes away. "I'll be there as fast as I can," she said, and hung up. She took a deep drag on the cigarette and started coughing because the smoke went down the wrong way. She looked at her desk. Then she looked at her calendar. She'd have to work late every night this week-including the weekend-to get these figures to jibe. Shit. That meant getting a baby-sitter, which pissed her off. Since she started having this little affair with Herbert, Bernadine knew she hadn't been spending as much time with the kids as she should. She was going to have to put a stop to it. Her kids were more important, and besides, Herbert was starting to get on her nerves.

She crushed out her cigarette and grabbed her purse. "I'll try to get back later if I can. If the bank calls, tell them I'll get back wit
h t
hem tomorrow. If the Utah people call, tell them I've sent the checks. And oh, they're supposed to be putting in new carpet in number eighty-two, at Mission Palms. Call to confirm that it's happened. What else?"

"Go," the receptionist said. "If there're any problems, I'll call you at home."

"I almost forgot," she said, and ran back to her office. She ripped off a check from the register and brought it back. "This is for the air- conditioning people. They'll be by between one and two."

Bernadine walked out the front door, knowing there were a million other things she should've told the receptionist, but she couldn't think. She drove without thinking. By the time she got to the school, Onika's temperature was down to 99. When they got home, it seemed to have stabilized. Onika had a runny nose and a slight cough. She hadn't had any cold symptoms when Bernadine dropped her and John junior off at school this morning. She gave Onika a teaspoon of children's Tylenol, put her to bed, and lay there with her for over an hour. Bernadine felt her head every fifteen minutes, and she didn't get up until Onika had fallen asleep and the fever was gone.

She was sitting on a stool in the kitchen, on the phone with the receptionist, when Onika appeared in front of her, shivering. "What's wrong?" Bernadine asked her.

Onika wrapped her arms around herself and didn't stop trembling. "I'm too hot," she uttered.

Bernadine felt her forehead. It was scorching. She told the receptionist she'd have to call her back. She dialed 911. They said they'd have an ambulance there in about ten minutes. But Bernadine lived up in the goddamn foothills and knew it would take them longer than that to get there. Shit, something was seriously wrong with her daughter, and she couldn't wait. She picked Onika up and carried to the car. "It'll be all right, baby. Does it hurt?"