Authors: Kimberla Lawson Roby
I
SWERVED MY BMW
into the far left lane of the Dan Ryan Expressway and tried to gain my composure. The driver of a large black SUV had suddenly slammed on his brakes and I had almost crashed straight into the back of him. Even now, as I peered through my rearview mirror, I couldn’t understand why he’d stopped so abruptly and was now causing a noticeable traffic jam. Then again, maybe he’d had some medical emergency and couldn’t help it.
Although the more I thought about it, I wasn’t feeling all that well myself, even light-headed, and I wished that this legal conference in Los Angeles had been scheduled for another time. Specifically, not close to my infamous menstrual cycle. But with the conference being a very important one and one that the senior partners had been encouraging me to attend, I hadn’t been in a position to argue about it. I did what they expected in hopes of becoming one of them, and I wanted my promotion to happen as soon as possible. The thing was, I was already thirty-eight, and I just couldn’t see waiting until I was forty before I saw more career advancement. Lord knows I worked much too hard and much too competently to have that happen. I was truly the dedicated one and my bosses had praised me many times for being their expert when it came to very nasty divorces. I also second-chaired personal injury and malpractice cases, so I guess I had a knack for representing any client who’d been wronged unjustifiably. I worked hard at representing my clients to the best of my ability and I enjoyed doing it.
I continued on my way to O’Hare International Airport in what was mostly stop-and-go traffic and I was glad that I’d left home as early as I had. I lived in a south suburb, but at eight in the morning, travel to any Chicago destination took a lot longer than it should have.
After finding the
Tom Joyner Morning Show
on the radio, I heard my cell phone ringing. It was Cameron, the man I was deeply in love with, the man I’d been dating for almost two years. He was also the man who was taking much too long to ask me to marry him, the man I was starting to become impatient with.
“Hey, sweetie,” I said.
“Hi, baby, how are you?”
“Just trying to make it through traffic.”
“I can only imagine, and I apologize again for not being able to take you to the airport.”
“Don’t worry about it. Work comes first and you know I understand.”
“But I’ll definitely go pick up your car this evening when I get out of here.”
“I keep telling you, you don’t have to do that.”
“I know, but I never leave mine there either, because I’m always worried that it’ll be vandalized.”
“Cameron,” I sang, smiling. “Thousands of people leave their cars at O’Hare every single week and nothing ever happens to them.”
“Maybe. But I’d rather be on the safe side, Taylor. You know that.”
“Whatever you wanna do is fine with me.”
“So, what time are you arriving at LAX?”
“Around one Pacific Time.”
“Do you have any events today?”
“Just early registration. The sessions don’t actually begin until tomorrow.”
“But you’re flying out as soon as they’re over on Friday, right?”
“Yeah, I’ll be back around eleven.”
“Man, I’m missing you already, you know that?”
“I miss you, too,” I said, and wanted to ask him why we were still doing this dating thing and didn’t seem to be moving toward a more permanent commitment. I wanted to know why he was satisfied with the existing conditions and why he didn’t seem to mind this idea of living in separate households—even though we were clearly in an exclusive relationship. It wasn’t that I wanted to shack up with him, because I didn’t. But he claimed he loved me and I certainly loved him, so I just didn’t see what the problem was when it came to getting married. I didn’t understand what his delay was in making me his wife. I wanted to ask him a great number of questions, but I didn’t want to complain or cause any unnecessary tension between us. Not when we’d always gotten along so well. Still, it was getting to the point where an ultimatum was going to be inevitable, regardless of what the consequences might be. The bottom line: I was ready to settle down and start a family because my biological clock was ticking pretty loudly. It was time Cameron proposed or else. It was time he played the game correctly or forfeited by default. And I would tell him so when the time was right.
“Why don’t we do dinner and a play on Saturday?” he said.
“Sounds good to me. Do you know what’s playing?”
“Not in particular, but I’ll find out before you get back.”
“Oh, and hey, did you get the tickets for the Prince concert?”
“As a matter of fact I did, and they cost me five hundred dollars, too.”
“What!”
“I waited too late to order them, and all the decent seats were gone, so I had to get them from this web site.”
“Is that legal?”
“I don’t know,” Cameron said, laughing. “You should be telling me.”
“Please. I handle divorces, not ticket scalping.”
“Well, actually, it is legal in certain states, and of course the Internet allows free rein with stuff like that.”
“At five hundred dollars, our seats should be right on the stage
with
Prince.”
“I don’t know about that, but they are second row center.”
“Really?”
“Yep. You like that, don’t you?”
“I won’t even deny it.”
“I didn’t think so. I know how much you love him, though, so they were well worth every dime.”
“You’re too much.”
“Well, hey, I’d better get going. We’re meeting with some city officials today about this multimillion-dollar housing development they’re wanting to build, and hopefully we’ll be presenting them with a proposal in a couple of weeks.”
“This sounds like a big one.”
“It is. Business has been great ever since I went out on my own, but this would definitely make it better than ever.”
“I’m sure you’ll get the job. You’re one of the best architects in the area, and you’ve got tons of references to back it up.”
“We’ll see. Anyway, baby, wish me luck.”
“You’ll be fine. I’m sure of it.”
“Love you.”
“Love you, too, and I’ll call you when I get settled.”
Traffic was now moving much more steadily, and I was maybe about twenty minutes from my exit. My cramping, however, was beginning to accelerate and all I could hope was that I wouldn’t start bleeding. If only I could make it through another day, and even better, until I returned home. Especially since it had only been three weeks since my last painful cycle. I’d actually bled straight through the super-size tampon I was wearing, the two overnight maxi pads, and ultimately through my clothing. I had even soiled my leather executive-style chair, which I’d hurried to clean before anyone saw it. And the more I thought about it, I’d been bleeding excessively for more than six months, and it was getting worse all the time. It was starting to make my life completely miserable and I didn’t know what to do about it. Maybe it was something minor and could be corrected, but regardless, I knew I had to see a doctor. There was no way I could go on the way I was.
After about twenty minutes I drove into the airport parking ramp and found a space to leave my car in. But right when I did, my phone rang again. My first thought was to ignore it, but when I saw that it was my mother, I answered.
“Hello?”
“How are you this morning?”
“I’m fine, Mom. What about you?”
“I’m good. Just taking a vacation day today since it’s so beautiful outside.”
“I don’t blame you, because this
is
unusual weather for the month of September.”
“I know.”
“And how’s Daddy?”
“He’s at work, but he’s doing fine. Still complaining about how his twenty-eight-year-old supervisor doesn’t know what she’s doing and how he’s going to make up his mind and retire without notice.”
Mom and I laughed. “Daddy cracks me up. But at the same time, I’m sure reporting to someone who is that much younger than him must be hard.”
“It is. I’ve never seen your father more upset than he’s been lately. He’s been with the bread company for over thirty-two years and he’s always loved it. But now I think he’s serious about coming out of there.”
“Well, he should if he’s not happy. You guys have more than enough money saved and life is much too short to keep doing something you don’t enjoy.”
“I agree, and that’s why I’m retiring next year myself.”
“Right, Mom. You’ve been saying that for how long?”
“I’m serious. I really am. I love teaching, but it’s time. Children are not what they used to be, and the last thing I want is to get hurt or end up in jail.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Yesterday, one of my ninth graders stood toe to toe with me and cursed me out right in the middle of class.”
“You’ve got to be kidding.”
“No. Earlier in the day, I’d seen her in the hallway with some boy, practically having sex with their clothes on. So I broke it up. But when she came into the classroom, she told me that if I didn’t stay out of her business, I might as well start expecting an ass-whippin’.”
“What?”
“Isn’t that something? And you know I wanted to snatch that little girl and throw her against the wall as hard as I could, but I didn’t. Which is why I know it’s time for me to stop teaching. This sort of thing is going on all the time all over the city, and depending on who the parents are, they can be worse than the children. Some of them will defend those little brats until the very end, even when they know how wrong they are. It’s almost like Mitchell High has become a war zone between the faculty and the students.”
“Then I don’t blame you, you should retire. And to be honest, I wouldn’t wait until next year. I would do it at the end of this semester.”
I couldn’t help wondering how so much trouble could be going on in Mitchell, a city ninety miles away from Chicago and populated with only a hundred fifty thousand residents.
“We’ll see,” she said.
“Well, Mom, I don’t want to rush you off the phone, but I’d better get inside so I can get checked in.”
“I’m sorry, honey, I thought you were still driving. I’ll let you go then.”
“I’ll call you back when I get up to the gate.”
“If not, I’ll talk to you later. I just wanted to call you before you took off, because you know how nervous these planes make me ever since 9/11.”
“Mom, you were afraid of planes even before then.”
“I know, but now I’m terrified, and I’ll be worried sick until you get back here safely.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“And I’ll be praying for exactly that. That’s the other reason why I took the day off.”
I smiled. My mother was so cautious, but I did appreciate her.
“I’ll call you as soon as I land.”
“I love you, sweetheart.”
“I love you, too, Mom. And kiss Daddy for me.”
I stepped out of the car, pulled my garment bag from the trunk, and locked the doors. Then I headed inside the airport and over to American. The building was already full, and thankfully I’d purchased an electronic ticket and had the option of checking myself in. It was so much more convenient than having to wait in a line that had easily sixty people in it.
I stepped up to the terminal, swiped one of my major credit cards, and waited for my information to appear on-screen. I saw my first initial and last name, but the system wanted the first three letters of my destination city or the acronym of the airport. I typed in LAX and my flight itinerary displayed pretty quickly. Then, shortly after I answered a couple of other questions, my boarding pass printed and I proceeded up to the counter. The representative checked my photo ID and asked me to place my luggage on the platform next to her.
“Do you have any film in your bag?” the representative asked.
“No.”
“Is it locked?”
“No.”
“Then that’s all we need. Have a nice flight.”
I left the area and headed through security, which was sort of an ordeal in itself. I’d placed my laptop and coat on the rubber belt and walked through to the other side, but the metal detector had beeped and they’d asked me to remove my shoes and then scanned my body with a plastic wand. I wasn’t happy about the delay or all the personal scrutiny, but I knew this was all very needed and I actually felt somewhat safer.
When I’d gathered all of my belongings, I took an escalator down to the lower level and another one up to a different area. I strolled toward one of the delis, preparing to grab a bite to eat, but suddenly I stopped in my tracks. Blood was gushing into my underwear, and I hurried to the nearest restroom. Thankfully, I’d brought my oversized tote and had packed a number of tampons and sanitary napkins. Actually, I’d put on a pad this morning, just in case, and I was glad I had.
But I hated this. It was one thing for this to happen at home, but not out in public. So, what was I going to do? How was I going to make it four hours on a crowded flight? What if I bled straight through my clothing again and onto my seat? I would never be able to live that down. The humiliation would be unbearable. On the other hand, I knew my bosses really wanted me to attend this conference and I couldn’t have them thinking that I’d skipped out on it—especially not because of female problems. It would be all the reason they needed to believe I couldn’t cut it as a partner. As it was, one of them, Skyler Young, already had these preconceived notions about women in the first place.
I wanted to cancel the trip, but I decided to just make the best of it. And while I was in fact concerned about my career, I realized that this medical issue was starting to frighten me. In the beginning, I’d thought maybe the bleeding might be the result of fibroid cysts, but now I worried that maybe I had some form of cancer. Uterine. Ovarian. Cervical. It could be anything. It happened to women all the time. Even women like me, who were in their late thirties or younger. I knew my failure to see a physician hadn’t been in my best interest, but for some reason I just hadn’t found the courage to do so before now. It hadn’t helped that my longtime gynecologist had moved her practice to a different state and I wasn’t thrilled about searching for a new one.