1. Zurmani Unique Coates
Fuck Nigga:
Are you really not answering my calls? I've been by your crib a few times this week, and your ass ain't once answered the door. I know you saw me on your bitch ass camera. Call me Zurmani. Damn.
"It's crazy to me how a man will continue to play in your face but get mad when you realize that love doesn't cause you to look like a damn raccoon every day that ends in y."
"A raccoon, though, girl." Evie laughs.
"What did he say? I know you're talking about Aldis's punk ass, right?" Jamaica asks.
Evie Reddick and Jamaica Spivey have been my girls in the same way that grape jelly complicates peanut butter on toast. I longed for a sister until God sent Evie and Jamaica into my life.
"Yeah, it's Aldis. I blame myself for wanting love and listening to Evie?—"
"Wait. Why am I getting blamed?" Evie asks.
"Girl, keep acting like you don't spend hours praying that the three of us find our soulmate and get married in a triple wedding," Jamaica says, rolling her eyes.
I have gotten used to Jamaica and Evie's differing opinions on love, marriage, or settling down with someone so my commentary isn't necessary to this discussion. While I pray that one day I find a man who values the woman that I am enough to love me like I deserve, I'm not optimistic. My ex, Aldis Fisher, is and has been a habitual cheater since I've entertained a relationship with him. Foolishly, I ignored the signs until the evidence was a direct result of me visiting my ob-gyn to learn that I had an STD. Aldis and I had been together for four years, and the one time I forgot to force him to wear a condom, karma slapped me with a retribution I quickly felt.
I blame my parents because they have been my blueprint for marriage ever since I knew what commitment was. Michaela and Kerry Coates have been married for thirty-five years, and while I have seen their struggles, I have also witnessed their undying love. While Michaela is a woman of strength, faith, and humility, she is also someone I admire for her ability to be whatever Kerry needs her to be. Some days while growing up, I saw her stand behind Dad without saying anything, just holding onto him. On the other hand, Kerry is a man of integrity, faith, strength, and a warrior who has done everything to ensure his wife and children never go without. My brother, Zion, and I are stronger, wiser, and better for having the parents that we have.
God, I know my life doesn't always reflect the desires of my heart, but can you allow the two to intersect?
"Why are you so quiet, Zurmani?" Jamaica asks.
"I figured you two would remember that I'm here and shut up soon," I say, smirking.
"You know Evie be doing the most. I have to remind her that we all don't want love," Jamaica says.
"No. I think you're the only one planning to spend your life single and ready to mingle, boo. Although Aldis and the rest of my exes were duds, I'm still praying that God will send me a man who desires to love the hell out of me," I relay, laughing.
"Right. Hell hath no fury like a woman?—"
"Evie, please," Jamaica cuts her off while hanging her head, causing Evie and I to laugh at Jamaica's dramatics.
"Anyway, let's get into this bible study. Which book were we focusing on again?" Evie asks.
"None of them. I want to stay a heathen because God doesn't allow you to pop coochie, and my kitty loves purring on the lion's roaring in her path," Jamaica responds.
"Lord, send me some friends who are serious about getting their life together. Oh Lord, my strength, my redeemer, my strong to?—"
"Yeah, I'm gonna head out because this is gonna ruin the high from the edible I took before coming over here," Jamaica cuts Evie off before standing and heading toward the door without another word.
"All right, now that she's gone. Go on and make that shrimp and crab dip because I saw the ingredients in your fridge," Evie insists when the front door slams, letting us know Jamaica has left.
"Ooh, you nosy and wrong for that," I say, laughing.
"Mhm. I might be, but I'm never without a plan. Come on, I've been craving that dip since I got here and saw the stuff for it." Pulling my arm, Evie guides me toward the kitchen like a woman on a mission.
An Undetermined Time Later
"What's up, Nae Boogie?" Zion greets me once the call connects, causing a bright smile to slide into place after hearing the nickname from my big brother.
Zion and I are four years apart, and I love him for never treating me like a nuisance or anything. Having a big brother used to bother me because of the heavy way he kept me guarded and protected. Yet, I now understand that some women don't have someone in their corner to keep safe or call on for anything. Although I have Evie and Jamaica, Zion is my confidante and the person I go to if I have something heavy to sort through. Zion is heavy in church, so he keeps me spiritually grounded, which I love.
"Hey, brudder," I respond, giggling because I know how much Zion hates the name.
"Grow up, sis. What's up with you, though? Everything cool?"
The lightness in his tone has warmth spreading throughout my body at Zion's ability to be consistent in his efforts to check on my well-being.
"All is well. How are you? Mom said you were out of town for work."
"Your mama stays spreading my business. Yeah, I'm at this conference for two weeks, and since the weather is nice, I'm not complaining. I miss my bed, though."
"Oh, she's my mama now, huh?"
A slight smirk upturns my lips when a low chuckle sounds through the receiver because neither of us claims our mother when she does things we don't like or agree with.
"Anyway, so check it. I was praying, and your name dropped in my spirit, which isn't weird, but it made me wonder if you were dealing with something you hadn't told me. Do you need to catch me up on anything?"
Biting my bottom lip, I ponder the thoughts I've been thinking and couldn't communicate to my girlfriends when they were here. I'm not sure if it's because I'm single again, but I have been feeling unfulfilled and don't know what to do with my emotions.
"Talk to me, Nae Boogie. I can sense your wrestling with something due to your weighty silence," Zion probes.
Talking to Zion has always been easy, but this weight is one I have been carrying in silence for a while, and sharing it means that I have to deal with it.
Yes, dealing with it will allow you to heal from it. Say it out loud.
"I had a miscarriage," I whisper, and pain radiates across my chest from the burden I have been holding.
"Jesus!" Zion lowly hisses.
Silence stretches through the phone, and it causes me to release the first tear I didn't allow myself to shed a month ago. What Evie and Jamaica didn't know is that the real reason I broke things off with Aldis was because the STD he gave me caused me to lose the baby I didn't realize I was carrying. Two days after learning about the STD, I had to go to the emergency room due to intense cramping and bleeding. The devastating news of finding out I was in the midst of a miscarriage made me realize that the loss of my baby would also be the end of the toxicity I'd been subjecting myself to. I called Aldis from my phone while lying in bed after getting a DNC, breaking it off with him without providing a reason.
In fact, all I said was that it wasn't him. It was me, which hadn't been a lie. Breaking up with Aldis was entirely for me because, in that moment, I knew I wanted more for myself. Love should never send you to seek medical attention with such impactful results two days in a row.
"I'm sorry, sis. What do you need?" Zion asks, cutting into my thoughts, causing me to wipe my face clean of the slow-moving water coming from my eyes.
"To know that God isn't punishing me. To feel like it wasn't my fault. To-to—" I stop speaking when the lump in my throat seems to spread throughout my esophagus, preventing me from uttering another word.
My lips tremble, tears flow rapidly, and my shoulders sag, causing me to hang my head, fighting the urge to sob uncontrollably. The thoughts I have been analyzing when my house becomes silent and day transitions to night are what's keeping me from truly dealing with my loss. A part of me feels like losing my baby was God's way of punishing me for doing something, although I have no idea what. The other part of me feels like I should have left Aldis two years ago when the rumor mill hit my social media inbox with hints of his cheating.
"Psalm 50:15 is a reminder for you that there is no trial or dilemma that God can't pull you out of or see you through. The first thing I need you to do is stop playing the blame game. In times of sorrow, in times of joy, in times of question, in times of grief, the bible says to cast your cares on the Lord, for He careth for you. Let Him mend the fracture of your heart. I don't have the answers or the why, but you didn't do anything, and God isn't punishing you either. You're gonna make it through this, Nae Boogie. I'm here for whatever you need, okay?"
Nodding wordlessly, I wipe my face when my tears slow and attempt to process Zion's words, feeling slightly better than I have been.
"When I get back, I'm pulling up on you so I can smother you with my body weight. I hate that you're going through this when I'm not in town. Have you told Mom or Dad?"
"N-no. Please don't. One day, I will, but right now... only you know, and I want to leave it that way," I hoarsely say.
The raw emotion within my vocal cords makes my voice sound like someone who’s having a tube removed from their mouth. Fatigue settles within my body, instantly draining me and causing me to get sleepy. A yawn escapes my mouth, and the desire to climb into my bed makes a plea for me to succumb to the subtle nudge from my brain.
"I love you, Nae Boogie. I got you, and I'm here for whatever."
"Love you too."
"I'll hit you up when I'm back, but in the meantime, I want you to find a way to push through this. Sitting with this energy isn't good, and I don't want it to depress or overwhelm you. So, find an outlet to deal with it healthily. Can you promise to do that for me?"
"I will," I whisper.
"Good. I'll be in touch. In the meantime, take care of yourself, Nae Boogie."
When silence penetrates the line, I pull the phone from my ear and confirm that Zion has hung up. The adrenaline I didn't have moments ago surges through me, causing me to stand before pacing and expressing what's now echoing in my mind.
"Well, God, I'm mad at you even if you aren't punishing me. Why would you allow me to get pregnant only to snatch my baby from me? What kind of God does that? What kind of God dangles the baby carrot only to rob me of the experience of giving birth? Growing up, the pastor told us you are a just and merciful God. I don't believe that because you robbed me of the chance to be a mother. The sovereign King I've heard about all my life can't be when He took my baby from me. I didn't get to?—"
Are you really yelling at God like this?
"Yes. I am. If I can cry while praying, then dang it, I can also yell when I'm unhappy about something," I recite in an elevating voice, continuing my path around the couch with heavy shoulders and tension filling my back.
Lo, I am with you even unto the ends of the world. I will never leave you, nor will I forsake you, Zurmani. My grace is sufficient for you.
"Nooo! Why didn't your grace allow me to keep my baby?" I cry, dropping to my knees when pain enters my stomach, causing me to release the sobs I've been fighting to contain. "Ahhh!"
Weeping may endure for a night, but joy... no matter how much it hurts, your joy will come in the morning. No good thing will I withhold from you.
At twenty-nine, nothing in my life has given me a reason to feel like God is displeased with me until now, while dealing with the aftermath of my terrible loss. I have also never experienced anything of this magnitude, and the pain in my chest has me gasping for air. My mind is at war with the still, small voice attempting to speak life into me due to the sorrow flowing like a stream within me.
"Oh God! I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please. Please. Please," I cry.
The day I was told I was miscarrying, I was numb and unable to reconcile the event and everything that was happening around me at hyper speed. Today, I'm feeling everything I didn't back then, and it's clogging my brain, causing tremors in my body, and my heart feels like it's shattering into a million pieces.
I am the healer of the brokenhearted... joy will come in the morning.
My nose is running profusely, forcing me to muster the strength necessary to grab some tissues. With every step I take, the fatigue from a while ago returns, sending signals that I need to go to bed and sleep this off. At the bathroom entrance, a song pops into my head minutes later, causing me to push through the clog in my throat to sing along.
"Better days. Better days. Better days are coming."