2. Onesti Michelle Jeffries
*
Not much longer now, things are about to shift quickly.
*
Rich Tolbert's voice echoes around the small space where I have the pleasure of working, instantly charging me with the infectious lyrics I can't help but sing. Life hasn't always been good to me, nor has it always been bad, but I'm in a season in my life where looking at the bright side of things is best to keep going. While my work life is moving and shaking with ease, my personal life sometimes causes me to wonder if I'll ever find someone to look beyond the smile I wear effortlessly.
Ping.
A notification popping up on my computer has me shifting my attention to the new imaging order for a patient currently in the ER.
"Hm, I wonder what her story is," I ponder, looking over the request for films on a female patient with wrist, side, and back pain.
While my job isn't always glamorous and inspiring, I genuinely enjoy what I do and happily report to work every morning with renewed dedication. I'm an X-ray technician in the imaging and radiology department at Shadow Stew Memorial and have been for the last five years. One of the reasons I come in with a smile and a pleasant attitude is that I know what it feels like not to have a job. Before working here, I worked in corporate and was laid off after ten years of service. It took me a while to get past the devastation of losing the job I once valued more than myself.
My loyalty to that company had been to my detriment for ten years, because regardless of rain, sleet, snow, sickness, and health, I showed up and performed my duties. The joke was on me when the company felt the need to make me indispensable, choosing to ignore my dedication to their mission and vision. Rediscovering a new path took lots of prayer simply because I couldn't understand what God had been trying to communicate to me. No job is worth giving all of me to the point of losing myself. I had obtained that job fresh out of high school, thinking it would be the career to set me up for retirement, only to discover that I had been hired to fill a mark on a diversity chart.
At thirty-three, it's a lesson learned because now I find myself more fulfilled and happier than ever, even after taking a massive pay cut. Money is the root of all evil and can also place you in a chokehold from trying to sustain it. Thankfully, I now trust God to be the source of everything I need, so I worry more about living than I do about how much money I can add to my savings account. Getting the position here at the hospital has given me a new purpose in life and made me realize that I'm right where I need to be. I have always loved to care for others since I had a chance to nurse my Nana back to health when I was younger.
"Shoot, let me go get this patient." Snapping out of my wayward thoughts, I quickly leave the small office space I call my oasis at work.
* * *
"Good morning, Ms. Aiken. My name is Onesti, and I'll be taking you to get your X-rays," I announce, entering the ER room where my next patient is waiting.
"Mhm. Can you hurry up? I need these people to do whatever is necessary for me to get out of here," the woman snaps, hobbling to the wheelchair before I'm able to assist her.
"Sure thing. It shou?—"
"I don't need you to talk or explain anything to me. Just do your job faster than you normally do so I can be out of your hair," she sasses, cutting me off.
Wow. This is gonna be interesting.
Nodding wordlessly, I place my hands on the wheelchair's grip bars and push Ms. Aiken out of the room. I'm unsure if her black eye, busted lip, or disheveled hair are the reasons for her blunt remarks, but I'll follow her lead and limit our conversation.
Brrnng.
A phone sounded, causing me to look down and see Ms. Aiken lift the phone in her lap and answer the call.
"What, Trey?"
Hm. I guess I'm not the only one she's in a bad mood with today.
"No. I'm at the fucking hospital because you haven't gotten your whore under control. I'm not sure why she felt the need to put her hands on me, and she's the fucking other woman. Make the shit make sense. No, no. Ba—" The cry in Ms. Aiken's words causes her to stop talking while holding the phone, and my mind wanders from the information she's said.
Another woman? She's in here because her man's other woman beat her up. Hm. Stop it, Onesti. We listen and don't judge. This woman's life isn't your business. You're only here to get her X-rays… that's it.
Shaking off the thoughts of the conversation I'm having to listen to, I attempt to focus on something other than this woman's business that has nothing to do with me. Less than ten minutes later, I pushed the chair near the table under the radiography machine.
"I'm going to take the images of your hand first, and then I'll move on to your side and back," I explain to Ms. Aiken, who rolls her eyes.
"I gotta go, bae. Mhm. I love you too."
I listen and don't judge. I listen and don't judge.
Chanting the phrase, I ignore the declaration from Ms. Aiken, patiently waiting for her to end her call so I can give her further instructions.
* * *
"Wait, you said she left arm in arm with the man whose chick on the side beat her ass?" Necia asks.
"Mhm. I was on my way out and saw her, but unlike our encounter during the time I was in her presence, she waved while showing me all thirty of her teeth," I share, nodding despite her inability to see me.
"Hold on, girl. The math ain't mathing. We have thir?—"
"Yeah, we have thirty-two, but she doesn't," I insist, cutting Necia off.
Seeing Ms. Aiken leaving the hospital happily with her man in tow had me dying to get far away from the woman. Her life could have easily been mine if God didn't love me like He does. I had no clue that I was the primary or side woman until I got on social media to see my life blowing up before my eyes. My boyfriend Roy and I had been dating since my senior year of college. I thought we were in love and were gonna be together forever until I got on Facebook one day to see that Roy's relationship status had been updated to married. Only the woman whose name he tagged wasn't me. Roy hadn't given me the courtesy of breaking up with me before moving into a lifetime commitment with someone else. The situation was messy and dang near broke the fabric of my heart because I didn't see it coming.
"You better not be over there thinking about trash ass Roy, girl. You've been quiet for too long," Necia declares, snatching me out of my thoughts.
Necia Howard is one of my closest and dearest friends whom I had the pleasure of meeting at my last job. Unlike me, Necia quit a year after being there, stating irreconcilable differences, which I got a kick out of hearing. Yet, Necia let me know that something about the senior leadership didn't sit well in her spirit. Her words were comical to me since Necia wasn't religious. However, the joke was on me when that same leadership personnel sent me packing, leaving me to wonder why my discernment hadn't been like Necia's.
"Sometimes I wonder why I can't see things before they happen to prevent me from going through heartache. I pride myself on being a woman whose?—"
"Prince Charming is close, and you need to keep trusting that God has everything under control. You sit your ass in church every week and still doubt the things you tell me to believe God for. How is that possible? Where is your faith?" Necia asks, regurgitating the last question I often ask her when she's going through things.
While Necia isn't a church-going woman, I often convey certain scriptures to help her through whatever battle she's facing. I'm a proud member of All Things New Pentecostal Church. Attending church is something I have been doing all my life, but in my humanness, I can get caught up in the many trials and tribulations that distract me from trusting God, not to mention His grace, when I find myself sitting and spinning on something long and strong in my hours of weakness.
"Thank you, boo. I love you," I say, sighing.
"Shake off the events of the day, especially if they have you thinking about the coulda, shoulda, woulda with a man who never saw the beauty God created you to be. Besides, remember you could have been tasked with screwing a man with a toddler dick for the rest of your life. Shit, instead of sulking, you need to be thanking God for his sovereignty."
Laughter bubbles to the surface because in my anger over Roy's deceit, I had told Necia and my best friend, Jarielle, about Roy's dick. Prior to his deception, I had never told either of my girls what he wasn't working with, but anger had me spilling all the tea. Necia and Jarielle were stunned because they didn't believe I was having sex because of my church status. However, I let them know that I'm not too saved to let my hormones have me praying for forgiveness. To which both of them said, "Touché."
"Love you too. Call Jarielle so we can plan our next girls' weekend. I need a getaway, and I'm tired of waiting for y'all."
One thing I love about my girls is our love for one another and the opportunity to unwind while escaping our lives, although sometimes life and our men can prevent us from getting out of the city as often as we would like.
"Okay. Hold on." Dialing Jarielle's number, I waited for the call to connect with my best friend.
"What can I do for you, bestie boo?" Jarielle asks when the call connects after the third ring.
Jarielle Stoddard and I have been friends since we were knee-high to a grasshopper. We have had maybe five or six fights throughout our friendship, which is almost unheard of. Many don't have this type of connection with another woman like we do, and I value every minute of our relationship. Jarielle and I have been able to stand the test of time, giving us a sisterly bond that I treasure more than she knows.
"Hang on, I have Necia on the other line," I say before merging the calls. "Alright, Necia, we're all here."
"Hey, Necia," Jarielle greets.
"Mhm. Let's save the pleasantries for the exit portion of our call. What's your calendar looking like? It's time for us to get away," Necia asks.
"Ooh.. Brent and I are trying to sync schedules to finally go on our honeymoon," Jarielle informs us.
Jarielle and her husband, Brent, got married two years ago but haven't been able to celebrate their nuptials. Brent works in aviation, and his demanding job doesn't allow much free time, while Jarielle works at Ribax News as a journalist, leaving her with equally limited time because there's always something to report on around the city.
"Baby, I can't wait for me to have a man or husband to have that problem with," I say.
"Oh trust, I can wait because I love my me time, the empty right side of the bed reserved for my legs, and my comfort with not being a part of a we ," Necia counters.
"You don't know what you're missing, friend. Having a warm body to?—"
"Tuh. Getting the opportunity to have a warm body next to me hasn't ever been a problem for me. I struggle with his need to stay beyond the hours of fulfillment," Necia says, cutting Jarielle off.
"Well, be that as it may, I'm excited for the day God sends my Boaz because living single isn't for the faint at heart at our age. Not to mention my biological clock, whose knocks at my womb have me wondering if my eggs are turning from sunny side up to hard-boiled," I interject.
"See, Jarielle, had you not made this ho a maid of honor, she wouldn't be over there talking like life is ending. Ugh," Necia teases.
"Yeah, she would have because Onesti has been dreaming about getting married since Tasha and Landon's wedding when we were seven," Jarielle says, causing me to laugh at the memory.
"Girl. You had your Barbie embarking on the best fairytale wedding that had me wanting to knock Tasha's bun loose," I say, laughing.
Tasha and Landon were Jarielle's black version of Barbie and Ken. The two of us stayed playing house with our dolls as if we had a clue about what we were doing or knew the concept of marriage at our young ages.
"Wow. Talking about a plastic doll incapable of defending itself is diabolical, friend," Necia says, laughing.
"Hm. We have all sinned and fallen short of God's goodness, girl. We listen and don't judge," I say.