Full Figured 14, page 19
Kasim prepared all of Eboneé’s meals to ensure that she had a balanced diet and ate enough calories. His dishes were similar to the ones he’d seen his mother prepare for pregnant members of their family and pregnant friends. The spread that he prepared always consisted of three staple items: Nigerian swallows, which were starchy foods, such as semolina; tubers; and rice and beans. As it turned out, these were the key foods that Eboneé had decided to shy away from in order to lose weight. Kasim noticed this and called her on it one evening.
“Eboneé, baby, you haven’t touched your food. Is everything all right?”
“Yes, my love. I am so full. I even had seconds.”
“I see that. However, you haven’t touched the whole left side of your plate.”
“I’m not in the mood for any of that tonight. I hope you don’t mind,” she told him.
“I wouldn’t mind if this wasn’t the third night in a row that you have avoided those dishes. You know how important it is for you to gain weight and keep it on, so that you are healthy enough to conceive and carry a child, my love.”
“Kasim, now, you know Dr. Sharma suggested I actually lose a little weight so that we can get pregnant.”
“Dr. Sharma is a skinny white woman. She has no idea what she’s talking about. She is probably barren herself, and her misery has her giving you all the wrong information. I’ve told you several times how my mother was a little heavier than you are. And guess what? She had no fertility problem whatsoever. A woman with no weight on her isn’t fit to have a child. If you had been doing as I say, we probably would have two or three kids by now, but no, you want to take the word of a lady doctor who looks like a boy.”
“What are you saying, Kasim? That this is my fault? I really don’t understand your thought process at times. Dr. Sharma is a doctor. She has a degree. She knows what she’s talking about. It has nothing to do with her race or her size.”
“So what? She got a degree from attending school and reading a book. That doesn’t mean she knows my woman’s body better than me.”
“You’re insane.” She jumped up from the table and ran into the bathroom. Slamming the door behind her and locking it, she screamed, “Maybe I can’t get pregnant. It might not be in my cards. All of this is stressing me out.”
Kasim rushed over and said through the door, “I apologize if I hurt you, Eboneé. Please open the door and let me make it up to you.”
Eboneé unlocked the bathroom door and allowed Kasim in to ease her pain. He embraced her, then sucked on her bottom lip like clockwork. It had become his signature move, and Eboneé’s knees buckled each and every time that he did it. Kasim used his left hand to explore Eboneé’s breasts while he used his free hand to turn on the shower.
“Do you forgive me?” he asked as he pulled her blouse over her head with two hands.
“Y-Yes,” she purred.
Kasim ushered Eboneé into the shower and used his mouth to kiss and suck all her disappointments away. The saying was that makeup sex was the best sex, and that ended up being the case for Eboneé and Kasim. According to their calculations, that night was the night Kasim impregnated Eboneé. At their next appointment, Dr. Sharma did, in fact, confirm that there wasn’t anything medically wrong with either Eboneé or Kasim. She said sometimes it was all about timing, and when the time was right, it would just happen, and it had happened. Kasim despised the words that she spoke and insisted they look for a real doctor. He swore Dr. Sharma was a fraud and believed she had received her medical degree out of a Cracker Jack box.
Whenever Kasim experienced something good, trauma seemed never to be too far behind. During Eboneé’s ninth week of gestation, she miscarried. Eboneé blamed herself for the miscarriage and slowly slipped into a depression. She and Kasim had become emotionally attached to their unborn child upon learning of their pregnancy. Kasim tried his best to comfort his grieving fiancée. But it was difficult for him to do so because he, too, had lost a part of himself.
He didn’t want to think the worst, but it was impossible for him not to. Kasim felt that he might have a black cloud over his head and that he had caused the death of his wife and his unborn child and then Eboneé’s miscarriage. He allowed his grief to consume him, causing him to clam up and completely distance himself physically and emotionally from Eboneé. Eboneé, in turn, thought that he blamed her for their loss and that he didn’t want her anymore. As a result, one night Eboneé quietly gathered her belongings while Kasim slumbered, then penned a letter to him before departing.
To my beloved fiancé, Kasim,
You are and have been the answer to my heart’s desires. You are my heartbeat in human form. I am sorry that I was not capable of being what you needed me to be. I apologize for not being able to give you the only thing that you asked of me other than my heart and my hand in marriage. I wish I could turn back the hands of time and become your dream come true. Unfortunately, that appears to be impossible. Honestly, I don’t know how I am going to be able to pick up from here and move on without you. I guess if I want you to be happy, it is what needs to be done. I know I am babbling and could go on, but I won’t. Just know you’ve made me the happiest woman in the world, and I will always love you.
Eboneé
As she placed the letter in an envelope and enclosed her engagement ring, Eboneé was so engrossed in what she was doing that she failed to notice that Kasim had awaken from his slumber. He crept up behind her.
“Why do you have your jacket and shoes on? And why is your suitcase packed? Did you really plan on leaving without saying anything to me?”
“I thought it would be easier that way, Kasim. I can’t do this face-to-face.” She kept her back to him.
“Do what, Eboneé? You are not doing anything alone, Eboneé. We’re in this together. The miscarriage is a tough pill for both of us to swallow, but I promise we will get through it.”
“What are you saying, Kasim?” She shuddered.
“I am saying, I need my fiancée right now. Would you please tear up whatever you wrote and come back to bed? I don’t wish to see that letter. And do me a favor. Put your ring back on and never take it off again. I love you, my sweet Eboneé.”
Eboneé burst into tears. It pained Kasim to see Eboneé cry. All he wanted to do was make her happy, and he felt that he’d failed her. When he had realized she was preparing to leave him, his heart had jumped into his stomach. He knew he would not be able to live without Eboneé. The love he had for her was something that he had never had for anyone, and he didn’t want to lose that feeling.
That night, after she came back to bed, Kasim bared his soul, revealing everything that he had been feeling to Eboneé. And she assured him that none of what had transpired was his fault. Kasim promised to communicate with Eboneé from that day forward, no matter what he was feeling, because he didn’t want to lose her.
CHAPTER SIX
While nursing Parish to a complete recovery the best that he could, Chaplain Campbell was released from his duties as chaplain for Dove Island. It didn’t come as a surprise to him or Parish, considering that he had been by her side following the rape and the hazing, and he had refused to turn a blind eye to the physical abuse Parish had suffered at the hands of her superiors. Their actions went against everything that he believed in. Parish and Chaplain Campbell had agreed that his actions would not sit well with the commanding officers, and they had known all along that he would receive a reprimand. The commanding officers had created an alliance, and they always stood together against any and all opposition. Parish and Chaplain Campbell understood that it was impossible to penetrate that alliance. But it didn’t matter to him. He’d planned on resigning, and not returning to the armed forces, once Parish was back on her feet.
Parish was extremely ashamed about the rape, and she did not want to bring any further attention to the situation or herself by fighting her discharge from the Marine Corps. She also pointed out to Chaplain Campbell that taking the bull by the horns would result only in a “he said, she said” situation, their word against hers. Actually, that was how her superiors had been able to discharge her in the first place, and since they had gone to such extremes, Parish knew they would do so again if she protested her discharge, and she would be fighting a losing battle. Allowing them to get away with a crime stung like hell, but she refused to allow them to emotionally and verbally rape her all over again during court proceedings. Backing down without a fight in the face of injustice went against Chaplain Campbell’s beliefs. He wanted everyone to pay for what they’d done to Parish. However; he respected Parish’s wishes and understood where she was coming from.
Through it all, Chaplain Campbell had been joined to Parish’s hip. Parish appreciated his unwavering loyalty and recognized that he had become a source of strength to her in her time of need. She felt as if she’d known him all her life. They’d shared every part of their lives with one another while she was on the mend, leaving no stone unturned. In their sharing, they had acquired a love and respect for one another that ran deep. Parish had never met a man that actually sat and listened to her without a hidden agenda. She’d never encountered a man as attentive and empathetic as Chaplain Campbell was. His feelings weren’t far off from hers, either. Other women that he’d encountered had told him either what they wanted or what he needed to do. Parish was the first woman who’d allowed him to be a man, while she sat back and remained the lady that she was. Even with all the military training under her belt, Parish remained the lady that she was and revered and respected him as a man. They shared the same pain, and that yoked them together emotionally all the more.
Parish had even convinced Chaplain Campbell, whom she’d begun to call Kwame, to reconsider the calling that God had placed on his life. In listening to everything that he’d shared with her, Parish had recognized his love for God. He’d tried to conceal it, and then it’d oozed out of him without forewarning. Especially during the conversations in which he’d start his sentences by saying, “I know you believe this way . . .” He would then proceed to expound on why she should rely on whomever she believed in, because that was where her strength lay.
Parish had admitted to herself that Kwame’s presence and their conversations were what had afforded her peace of mind during the moments when she contemplated taking her life. However, it was his connection to God that had allowed him to be who he was for her. Parish refused to return home after she was released from the hospital. She planned to use her savings to remain at the extended-stay hotel she and Kwame had checked into the day the hospital released her. When she told Kwame this on the second day of their hotel stay, he objected.
“Parish, you aren’t making any sense at all. We are here so you can get a little more rest. There is no way you can stay here forever, or much longer, for that matter.”
“It makes sense to me, and I have no problem with it.”
“You’re not staying here. I won’t allow it.”
“You are in no position to tell me what you will and will not allow. I don’t appreciate your tone, either.”
“Parish, I apologize if I came off as tyrannous. That was never my intention. I just don’t think it’d be a good idea for you to be alone after all that you’ve gone through.”
“Honestly, the last thing that I want to do is be alone. I’ve become accustomed to having you around. I depend on you just being with me. When you’re not around for a while, I get inside my head and I miss you. Nonetheless, I draw a line at you telling me what you will not allow. That is just not your place to do so.”
“You’re absolutely right, and I admit that I was out of line. I ask for your forgiveness. I just cannot imagine you not being with me. I know we haven’t known one another for a long period of time, but my heart feels as if we have always known one another. So I am offering my spare bedroom to you, if you’re comfortable with staying with me. Of course, with no strings attached.”
Parish avowed that she would probably end up in a mental institution if she were to stay alone in the hotel while Kwame went back home to New York. His place was located on a quiet street in Massapequa, a hamlet in Nassau County. Parish was born and raised in the Bronx and knew only city life. Long Island would be the change of scenery that she needed, she told herself.
* * *
A day later Parish discovered that Kwame’s home was a traditional split-level house and was well maintained. He had inherited the house from his grandparents. Parish marveled at the view of the shore from the living-room windows, the hardwood floors, and the granite countertops. Kwame’s home was the type of house she had dreamed of purchasing and owning when she retired from the marines. Kwame informed her that God knew she hadn’t wanted to wait that long, and so his home had become her home, and it would remain so for as long as she liked.
Parish’s days at Kwame’s house turned into weeks; the weeks, into months; and the months, into years. At first, she and Kwame considered each other roommates. Things started to become uncomfortable for the two of them when their friendship blossomed into something that entailed more than camaraderie. Particularly since they’d been sleeping alongside one another in the same bed for over six consecutive months. Parish had been suffering from nightmares and would go into a fit of rage during each of her episodes. Kwame had to wrap his arms around her and hold her until she fell asleep. It had gotten to the point that if he wasn’t lying next to her, she’d have a nightmare that would evolve into a panic attack.
Now it was impossible for them to contain what they were feeling on the inside. During dinner Parish and Kwame found themselves smiling and gazing into one another’s eyes just because. While out in public, they held hands, and it felt right and normal for both of them. They also attended Kwame’s home church together, which they had been doing ever since Parish insisted that something was missing in her life, that she felt a void that she was unable to explain. Kwame had been experiencing that same vacancy in his life, and he’d recognized that only God could fill that empty space.
Kwame had thought it would be difficult to return to Living Hope Fellowship Church. He hadn’t stepped foot in the church in over a decade, but God had been calling him back home. Given Parish’s desire to connect with something larger than herself and the tugging he’d been experiencing, Kwame had ignored his pride and had taken her to the only church that he’d ever known. With the passing of his grandparents and most of the members that had attended the church when he was young, Kwame hadn’t recognized any of the members in attendance. That first Sunday, it had felt like a whole new church. However, the same spirit of God that he had always known and met there had been present.
During the last sermon that Kwame and Parish heard, they were convicted by the words that the minister was ministering. Although they hadn’t been physically intimate, they had been living the life of a married couple, and that had been troubling them to a great extent. The topic of the sermon that Sunday was “living in victory.” Pastor Mobley discussed the trials and tribulations that one encountered in life and explained that some were more devastating than others. He said the only way to be victorious and live in peace was to live according to the will of God. He shared his own unfortunate encounter with sexual abuse. Pastor Mobley explained how putting God and God’s will for his life first had given him the strength to talk about it and find peace. A peace that was available only through surrendering to God.
During that sermon, everything changed between Kwame and Parish. That very evening, they gave their lives back to God and to one another.
“Parish, I just need your blessing. Please say that I can have you and that you will have me. I know this is unexpected, but I want to be right in the eyes of my Heavenly Father. And because of you, I am where I am supposed to be. I am no longer running from Him but to Him. However, I don’t want to run this race alone. Would you please do me the honor of becoming Mrs. Kwame Campbell?” He knelt before her.
“Yes, I would love to be your wife, Kwame.”
Their lips became one.
* * *
Three months following their engagement, Parish and Kwame became husband and wife. Toward the end of that same month, Kwame was ordained and appointed assistant pastor of Living Hope Fellowship Church. Unbeknownst to Parish, one of her childhood friends, Cynthia Lattimore, who was now a gospel recording artist, had been invited to sing the sermonic solo at Kwame’s ordination. The moment that Cynthia noticed Parish sitting on the front row, she went over to her and persuaded her to join her at the podium. Parish held her own alongside Cynthia, and she swept Kwame off his feet. Cynthia then joined the choir and gave Parish the lead, as she had when they were in their youth. Parish’s voice was magical. There wasn’t a dry eye left in the sanctuary by the time Parish concluded a song.
Parish and Cynthia had grown up together. They had lived on different streets, but their backyards had abutted one another, separated only by a fence. At the age of ten, while playing a “game” of volleyball by herself, Parish hit the ball really hard, and it sailed over the fence and into Cynthia’s backyard. Cynthia, also an only child, retrieved the ball and hit it back over the fence to Parish. And so began a lasting friendship. In fact, they became so close that some mistook them for siblings or cousins.
When Cynthia attended Parish’s family barbecue/ reunion that Fourth of July, she and Parish discovered their mutual love for singing. Parish’s cousins loved to put on a talent show at the family’s Fourth of July barbecue. They’d perform for the adults, and their show was always the highlight of the family reunion. Parish’s cousins teamed up, as they always did, and Parish decided to sit on the sidelines, as she normally did. But Cynthia insisted that they perform together. The two of them sang their favorite gospel song, “Precious Lord,” which left their families speechless. Without rehearsing or knowing what the other was capable of, Cynthia and Parish sang and were in sync, as if they had been prepared beforehand.
