In Your Arms

“Okay, Yvonne, but it’s still a long story.”

“Okay, okay, I won’t push it. You don’t have to cop an attitude.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.” Marcus turned into the parking lot. “Maybe I do need a drink. Maybe two or three.”

The hotel did have a bar, but it was closed. “That’s okay, Marcus, we can talk in your room.” Yvonne said and led Marcus away by the arm.

“My room?” Marcus replied sheepishly.

“Don’t worry. I promise I won’t bite you. I haven’t bitten anybody in years.

When they got to his room, Marcus opened the door and Yvonne went in. “Make yourself comfortable,” Marcus said as they entered his room.

Yvonne immediately walked from room to room and opened every door. “A little paranoid, are we?”

“Just a habit. I like to know where I am.” Yvonne answered as she peeked out the window. She wasn’t sure if she liked the fact that the room was on the first floor. She sat down. “Don’t just stand there, sit down. This is your room.” Marcus sat down in a chair across from Yvonne. She made him feel nervous and uncomfortable. He tried not to show it, but it was too late.

“Am I making you feel uncomfortable, Marcus?”

“No, no; of course not. It’s just that … well, you see—”

“Marcus.”

“Huh.”

“Just relax and say what you’re trying to say.”

“Well, Yvonne, I … ah, I left my wife today.”

“Oh, Marcus, that’s too bad.” Yvonne said. Her accent had suddenly returned, only now it sounded phony. “Or maybe it isn’t.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“You could be happy you left your wife.”

“No, Yvonne, I’m not happy about it.” Marcus said quietly and slumped down deeper in his chair.

“You wanna tell me how you feel about it?” Yvonne asked, kicking off her heels and curling up on the couch.

“I don’t … wait a minute. I’m the one who is supposed to be on the couch.”

“Oh, you mean like a shrink. I been in therapy before.”

“You’re not crazy, are you?” Marcus said with a smile.

“No, I was just depressed about some things. Therapy helped me deal with it. But you gotta really get into it. You know what I mean? Dig deep down and get in touch with the source. I know it sounds kinda dippy, but it worked for me.”

“So what were you so depressed about?”

“Some things were happening to me, but that was just at the surface. What was really happening was I had never really dealt with what my mother did to me.”

“What did she do?”

“Marcus, I was a sixteen-year-old virgin when I met Richard. I liked him but I barely knew him. He arranged the whole marriage thing with my mother. They came to me after they had worked it all out and she told me that I was going to marry Richard. That it was the best thing for all of us. She said that she couldn’t afford to do anything for our family and Richard said he would send her money every week. She sold me to him.”

“I didn’t know that. I mean, I just thought that you were a young bride who moved to Atlanta with her new husband. I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

“It all turned out all right. Richard was so sweet. He treated me good and I learned to love him with time. But she sold me, like I was a slave or something. Suppose Richard wasn’t a good man. She didn’t know him from a can of paint. Anything could have happened to me. She didn’t care. I was just another mouth to feed. So I had to go. She did the same thing to my sisters when they got old enough. Found some old man, and sold them too. Beverly’s husband wasn’t bad. He just worked her like a slave, but so did my mother, so she was used to it. But Virginia, she wasn’t that lucky. Denny was an animal. He stayed drunk most of the time. He treated her like dirt, beat her, and raped her when he felt like it. Forced her to have sex with his friends.”