Authors: Michelle Janine Robinson
Damita looked through the racks of clothing with exasperation. “I can never find what I'm looking for here. Why don't you like Bloomingdales?”
“I don't like shopping in that store. They're uppity.”
“Mom, you know you need to stop. How is the store uppity?”
“It just is. Every time I walk in that store I'm surprised when a store clerk even offers me assistance.”
“Now, now, Mom, that sounds like your own paranoia at work.”
“You know what they say,
just because I'm paranoid doesn't mean they're not out to get me.”
Damita laughed and looped her arm with her mother's. “Let's go spend some of my husband's hard-earned money.”
“That sounded pretty catty. What's wrong? Is there trouble in paradise?”
“Now who's being catty? I said that because Neal is always talking about me making babies and not working, so I thought I'd try out the life of a housewife. It'll be fun to shop on someone else's dime for a change.”
“You're not really thinking about giving up your job to be a housewife, are you?”
“Not really. Only thinking out loud.”
“I certainly hope so. You love your job.”
She stared off absentmindedly, considering how much worse things would be if she were a housewife.
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Damita and Karen shopped for most of the day, then stopped to get something to eat. Their routine was always for Karen to come back to her place after they had gone shopping, but Damita didn't think it was a good idea under the circumstances. She realized she was right when she got home.
“Where the fuck have you been all day?”
“I went shopping with my mother.”
“Why didn't you tell me you were leaving?”
“You were sleeping. I didn't want to wake you.”
“I wake up and there's no you and no food. There wasn't even a container of milk. I might as well be single. What's for dinner?”
“I thought we'd order out tonight.”
“I'm sick of ordering out. I want a home-cooked meal for a change.”
Damita couldn't help but notice that he sounded like a small child about to have a tantrum. “What do you want?”
“It's not like there's much to choose from. The cupboards are bare.”
“We were
supposed
to be on our honeymoon.”
Neal looked at Damita with a cautioning glance. That's when she realized the edge in her voice. That's also when she realized within a week she had become the kind of woman she never thought she could ever become. She understood now how someone could kill another person. Being abused both physically and emotionally wasn't the worst of her predicament. He had robbed her of her strength. In just a week she was afraid of everything.
“I'll go to the supermarket,” Damita offered.
“Good.”
She walked to the supermarket, happy to be out of the apartment. Once inside, she hurriedly threw items in a shopping cart. While in the frozen foods section she noticed a couple kissing one another. She wondered whether the life they lived publicly matched the life they lived when they were not subject to scrutiny. Did he hit her? Was she afraid of him. After all, no one would have ever guessed what her marriage was like behind closed doors.
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As she wound her way around the aisles in Gristedes Supermarket, she felt like a zombie. Her body was moving, but she felt lifeless.
“Hey! Damita! Damita, is that you?”
She didn't hear her coworker, Tina, trying to get her attention.
“Hey!”
Damita turned to find Tina Rogers, tapping her on the shoulder.
“Hey, married lady.”
Damita's expression was emotionless. “Oh, hey, Tina. What brings you to my neck of the woods? I thought you were a downtown, girl. Murray Hill, right?”
“I'm kind of on a date. He lives in the area. The guy's never got a thing in his refrigerator. I wanted to make sure we have something for breakfast in the morning.”
Whenever Damita saw Tina she thought of a line from the movie
Working Girl.
Much like Melanie Griffith's character, Tess McGill, Tina had a
head for business and a body for sin.
Damita often watched the men (and some of the women) make idiots of themselves whenever they were in her presence. Even their boss, Michael Underhill, was rumored to have slept with Tina. Damita tried to keep an open mind about Tina, but when she came into the office with her tight skirts and low-cut tops, Damita had a great deal of difficulty not judging her. Now, here she was at a time when Damita felt more insecure about herself than ever before.
“Sounds like my refrigerator.”
“At least you have an excuse. You just got married. I can imagine food has been the last thing on the minds of two newlyweds. It must be nice.”
“Yeah, it's nice.”
“Whenever someone else gets married it gives me hope that I'll have my chance one day.”
“Take your time. It'll happen exactly when, and if, it's supposed to. I find it fascinating how so many single people want to be married, and how many married people wish they were single again. It's funny how we idealize things and situations, just because it's what we think will make us whole.”
“I've never thought of it that way. Thanks.”
“For what?” Damita asked.
“I've always gotten the impression that you don't like me very much.”
“No. No. Where on Earth did you ever get that idea?”
“You don't have to deny it, Damita. I realize what people think of me.”
“You're so smart. I hate to see any woman sell herself short.”
Five seconds after the words were out of her mouth Damita realized how hypocritical it sounded. She, of all people, was not in the position to preach to anyone about selling themselves short.
“Well, it feels good to know that you consider me smart, anyway.”
“Of course I do.”
“I should get going and let you finish your shopping. It was nice seeing you.”
“It was nice seeing you, too.”
As Tina walked away she wondered what Damita's story was. She had worked with her for at least three years and she always seemed so happy, especially at her wedding. Now, one week later, she was a different woman; distracted, edgy, even sad. Tina turned back and waved goodbye.
Tina said, “See you at work.”
“I'll see you at work,” Damita responded.
Damita glanced at her watch and wondered how it was that she became the kind of person that was afraid of how long she'd spent shopping in the supermarket. She rushed through her shopping, so she could make up for the time she lost talking to Tina.
“Look who is finally back,” Neal said, waiting at the door.
Damita sighed. “I saw one of my coworkers at the supermarket.”
“I'll bet. What's his name?”
“Her
name is Tina. I told you about her. The investment banker who wears the tight dresses to work.”
“Ah. I do remember you talking about the fair Tina. She's the blonde with the Jessica Rabbit figure. I saw her at the wedding. She was wearing a pink dress, wasn't she?”
“Yeah, that's her. She seemed to stick in your mind.”
Neal smirked. “Why, Damita, are you actually jealous?”
“No, I'm not jealous. It's just, how often does a man remember what a woman was wearing?”
“When the woman's measurements are thirty-eight, twenty-four, thirty-six, you can't help but remember. Hell, I got married. I didn't stop being a man.”
“I guess that's what men do. Quantity always overrides quality.”
“It sounds to me like you're doing the same thing. How do you know Tina
Rabbit
is not possessing of quality?”
“Quality
doesn't sleep with married men or just about any man who wants her.”
“Wow, if that ain't the most judgmental thing I've ever heard, I don't know what is. One thing I will say about Tina, and women like her, is at least they're true to themselves and they don't feel the need to create a public persona that isn't real.”
Rather than continue the direction of the conversation, Damita decided to end it there. She was quickly learning that there was no such thing as a reasonable disagreement when it came to Neal and she also realized that much of what she was saying was less about the way she felt about Tina and more about her anger toward Neal.
“Dinner will be ready in about an hour,” was all she said.
A
fter dinner Neal opened a bottle of Scotch. Damita didn't think she had seen him drink anything stronger than a glass of wine since she'd know him.
“Where'd you get that from?” she asked.
“This is the Glenrothes John Ramsay. It's a gift from one of my colleagues. I suppose he thought I would want to add it to my collection. There have only ever been two hundred of these in the entire United States. Now one of them is mine. I enjoy collecting unique and unattainable things. It's a perfect wedding present.”
“Don't you want to save it for a special occasion?”
“This is a special occasion. I'm celebrating my triumphant return to the old grind. Have you forgotten that the honeymoon is over and we'll both be returning to work?”
As she watched him drink glass after glass, she regretted not having gone through all the presents. The last thing she needed was Neal drunk.
“That chicken was so salty. Do you want some water?” she asked.
“Does it look like I want water?”
By the time the bottle was practically empty, Neal was slumped over on the couch, fast asleep. Damita was relieved and decided to try to get some sleep herself.
In the middle of the night Damita was awakened by a noise. She turned over on her back, as Neal was entering the bedroom. He
stood and the foot of the bed and started screaming. Damita sat up.
“What did you do with it?” he asked.
“Huh?”
Half-asleep, Damita wasn't even sure what time it was. She glanced over at the clock and saw it was three forty-seven a.m.
“I know you put it somewhere. What did you do with it?”
Damita stared at him in confusion. “Neal, I don't know what you're talking about.”
“Where is my package? I put it in my sock drawer.”
“I don't know what package you're talking about, but if you put it in your sock drawer, then it's probably still there.”
She could hear him in the walk-in, rummaging through things, turning things over. She hoped he would find whatever it was he was looking for. If he didn't, she realized what the end result would be.
Suddenly, everything went quiet. She heard Neal in the living room again. She could hear him sniffling. She wondered if he was having some sort of a breakdown and was crying again. When she entered the living room so many things became clearer. Spread out on her makeup vanity tray was some white powder and Neal was sniffing it through a straw. She assumed he didn't even notice her. He was so engrossed in what he was doing.
“You want a hit?” he asked.
“Neal, you know I don't do that. I didn't think you did either.”
“Come on, just one hit.”
“I'll pass.”
“Of course you will. I knew you wouldn't, simply because I asked. If it were Carmella or one of your other friends, or Brandon, I bet you would.”
“No, Neal, I wouldn't. Drugs have never been my thing. I don't need them. I never have.”
“Are you trying to say that I do?”
“No, that's not what I'm saying. I'm not talking about you. I'm talking about me. I've never had a need or a desire to indulge in any of that stuff. I may have tried marijuana once when I was in high school, but that's it.”
“I almost forgot. You're Pollyanna.”
Damita sighed with exasperation. “Neal, why do we have to fight about everything? Can't we agree to disagree? You want it. I don't. Why does that have to be a problem?”
“It's a problem because it's too damn tense around here. We both need to loosen up. This will help us loosen up.”
“Don't you see, Neal? This is not what's going to solve our problems. This is what is causing our problems. Now I understand everything. I knew my instincts could not be that off. You haven't been the man I fell in love with because you've been altered by this drug. All you have to do is stop and we'll be fine. I'll help you anyway I can. And, if we can't do it on our own, we can try rehab.”
Neal laughed loudly. “Woman, you must be out of your mind. There is no way in hell I would ever go to rehab. In fact, I don't need help or to go to rehab. I don't have a problem. It's funny how people who drink are so quick to point out to people who indulge in other drugs how they need
help.”
“The most drinking I do is a glass of wine here and there at dinner or a shot of tequila once in a blue moon. How can you compare that to an illegal narcotic?”
“Alcohol is as much of a drug as coke or marijuana or any other drug. Alcohol happens to be legal, but that doesn't mean it can't cause as much damage as any other drug. The fact that alcohol is legal and other drugs aren't is a governmental decision, not one of science. It's all about revenue and taxation. That's what
really
influences the decisions about which substances to regulate or outlaw.”
Damita had heard similar arguments about cigarettes versus marijuana and as far as she was concerned it was the excuse people made to justify their addiction. “I'm going to bed. I have a lot I have to do tomorrow before I go back to work.”
“Yeah, go to bed. It's no secret that your job has always been more important anyway.”
Damita went back to bed, but she wasn't asleep for long. An hour or so later she could feel her pajamas being pulled down. The stale whiff of alcohol was on Neal's breath as he tried to force her lips open with his tongue. He pawed at her breasts and she could feel him semi-hard between her legs.