Waiting to Exhale by Terry McMillan Page B

stop acting like I was blind. My mother said to make sure he used a condom from now on, and my daddy, who has Alzheimer's, didn't understand what the big fuss was all about.
    I couldn't give up without a fight, so I tried harder and harder and even harder than that to please him. I loved Russell and wanted him to marry me so I could have his baby. I'd had a million dreams about it. But I know what my karmic lessons are. My numerology book says I'm too decentralized and will have a tendency to fight to express myself, because I'm always going to meet opposition. It also said I might want to consider changing my name in order to get a better vibration, because I'll never be able to "see the woods for the trees" as long as I'm a five. But I can't do that. Russell's numbers are worse than mine. He's full of fours. Which means he's irresponsible, tends to be scattered, restless, and dissatisfied, and in case of fire, he would seek all doors at once and, finding none, would run around in circles, screaming. Until he learned his karmic lessons he'd be a pleasure-seeker, constantly demanding change. But our Life Paths added up to the same number, so I figured he was supposed to be a part of my destiny, which was one reason why I couldn't let him go.
    The next thing I know, some woman starts calling the house and hanging up. Then I get this anonymous letter at work, marked Confidential, but my secretary claimed she didn't see that, so she opened it. I didn't know what to think after I read it. It was typed. And it said this: "You're one stupid woman. Do you realize that the only reason Russell moved in with you was because the woman he was living with took his name off the lease, and since his credit was so bad, they evicted him? Did you know that? Did you know that a totally different woman helped him buy that 325i and when he got behind three payments she took his name off the title and reclaimed it? I bet he told you somebody stole it, didn't he? How much have you lent him? Has he promised to marry you too? Do you get the feeling that he's stalling because he keeps coming up with all kinds of lame-ass excuses why he can't 'make that move yet'? Dream on, honey. Dream on. You better get out now while you can." Whoever it was signed her name: "Burned Once But Not Twice."
    I tore it to pieces. But I told Russell about it, and you know what he said? It must be some disgruntled woman from his past, trying to get back at him. He said he had no idea who it could be, and if I believed that bullshit, then it just meant I didn't have very much faith in him, and how could he think of marrying somebody who didn't have any faith in him? A few weeks went by. It was the Fourth of July weekend, and we had just come back from tubing on the Arizona River. We went on Russell's motorcycle, and when he pulled into the parking space next to our cars, somebody had slit the top of my-5.0 to shreds. That was the last straw. I didn't want to hear another one of his tired excuses. He couldn't apologize his way out of this. So I packed his clothes and put his ass out.
    Once it sunk in that he was really gone, it felt like there was this big hole in my life that needed to be filled. I was a mess. I lost eight pounds in two weeks, and still haven't been able to gain it back. I didn't have that much ass to begin with, and now it's gone. I don't know why I didn't get fired: I forgot about meetings I had with brokers and couldn't come up with quotes I'd promised. At night I sat by the phone, waiting for it to ring, and when it did, it was never him.
    But I got tired of being depressed, so to make myself feel better, I went on an extended shopping spree: from July until right after Christmas. If somebody was having a sale, I was there when the doors opened. I also became the queen of mail order. At least two or three times a week the UPS man would ring my doorbell or leave the packages behind the big pot of jumping cholla outside my front door. It felt good coming