Authors: Vacirca Vaughn
“No kidding,”
Phoenix snapped, as she pressed her lips into a thin line.
Paulo
shrugged. “That’s why I kept hoping you’d come out to rescue me. I
didn’t know how to get them away from my table without being rude. I
figured when you came out, they would finally leave, but you took forever.”
“You didn’t
want to speak with either of them?” Phoenix asked, her stomach quivering.
“I know you’re a gentleman and wouldn’t want to hurt my feelings, but I would
understand—”
Paulo led
Phoenix outside, with a gentle smile on his face. “Understand what?
Listen, gentleman or not, I would
never
speak to women like that,
whether I was with you or not. They are not my type. I am not
attracted to arrogant women who do not give a man a chance to lead. And
those women had a brashness that was really unladylike. What if you were
my wife or fiancée? They didn’t even care. They were sneaky,
waiting for you to leave the table to make their way over. Women like
that are not trustworthy. I am not attracted to that.”
Phoenix accepted
the hand that Paulo placed on top of hers as they walked to the car.
“What are you attracted to?”
When they
reached the car, Paulo stopped and pulled Phoenix against him. He wrapped
an arm around her waist and drew her close. He gazed into her eyes for a
moment, then pressed a soft kiss on her forehead and rubbed his nose against
hers. Phoenix became a pool of chocolate that would have melted into the
Manhattan concrete if Paulo hadn’t been holding her up.
Paulo traced
her cheek with his thumb. “I am not going to lie to you. I
used to be shallow. I used to care about looks and weight and style on a
woman…even when I knew I wasn’t much of a prize myself. I guess I felt
like the more physically attractive my woman, the better I could feel about
myself. Then I met my wife, whom I fell in love with, regardless of how
large she had gotten. And even with her issues, I still loved her.
That experience taught me a lot about love. Jesus is still teaching me
the rest…”
Phoenix bit her
lip then said, “That sounds good, Paulo. But it doesn’t really answer my
question.”
Paulo’s
eyebrows rose. “Okay, let’s get into the car and I’ll answer your
question more fully.” After helping Phoenix and getting in the car, he
continued. “I like a woman with a good heart. A caring woman with
quiet strength. I love a woman with a smile that lights up the
room. A woman with deep, gorgeous eyes I can lose myself into. A
woman who is shy and can barely look me in the eye when I tell her how
beautiful she is to me. I like a woman who is educated and has goals
beyond nabbing the nearest pretty boy or sugar daddy. I love a woman who
is giving, willing to share with others, even when they can barely take care of
themselves. I especially like a woman with a quick sense of humor…”
Phoenix flushed
because it almost felt as though he was referring to her.
“Of
course, the woman I love has to love Jesus as their Savior and their
Lord. When she does that, she will be nearly perfect for me. That,
above all, is the most important.”
“And why is
that?”
“Besides the
Bible telling us not to be unequally yoked spiritually, I personally don’t
believe a person knows truly how to love unless they learn by loving God.
When we allow God to teach us how to love Him, and allow ourselves to
experience the love He has for us, we learn truly what love is. It’s
patient, its kind, it is long-suffering. It does not boast or keep
records of wrongs. It is not rude or irritable. At least, that’s
what He says on the subject.”
Phoenix nodded.
“Yeah, you want the First Corinthians Thirteen kind of love.”
“Exactly!”
Paulo gave Phoenix an excited look. “So you do know that scripture?”
Phoenix
grinned. “Who doesn’t? It’s on tee shirts and greeting cards these
days! Besides, I wasn’t always a heathen, you know. Me and Jesus go
back a ways. Maybe, one day in the future, I’ll tell you
about it.”
So she is
not being called, but called back.
“I would love that. And
speaking of Jesus. You said you had a word with God in the bathroom?” Paulo
asked.
“Yeah. I
had to pray about something that was really stressing me out.”
“Really?”
Paulo’s eyebrows rose again. “Care to share what you spoke to Our Father
about?”
Phoenix smiled
back. “Nope.”
Paulo pulled
out of his spot. “I guess I’ll just have to ask Him myself”
She stared
straight ahead as she murmured, “You do that, P., you do that.”
Paulo and
Phoenix drove downtown until they reached the Brooklyn Heights Promenade.
Several people were out, enjoying the shops, gorgeous brownstones, and the East
River walkway. They managed to get there just in time to watch the sunset over
the Manhattan skyline.
Phoenix had
lived in New York City all of her life and had never seen a more beautiful
place. “This is so beautiful. How did you find this spot?”
“My wife and I
used to live here in the Heights. When I started working out, I used to
walk down here to think, especially when I just needed a little time, to
myself, you know, to sort things out.”
Phoenix was
silent but she loved it when Paulo placed an arm around her shoulder.
Her heart beat out a new rhythm as she pressed against him. Oh
goodness, how she tingled in the area where his thumb lightly stroked her
shoulder. After a few minutes, she said, “You don’t have to, of
course, but I would be honored if you tell me about her.”
Paulo’s arm
became dead weight around her. “My wife?”
“Only if you
want to,” Phoenix said quickly when he didn’t speak for several minutes.
She chewed her lip, afraid to say or do anything further to ruin the evening.
“I know she still means a lot to you. I mean, you still refer to her
as—you know what? I am sorry, didn’t mean to push. Must be the
therapist in me. Forget I said—”
Paulo cleared
his throat. “No, no. It’s okay. I just didn’t want to bring down
the mood on our date, but it’s cool. You’ve shared so much with me and
it’s only right that I do the same.”
“But if you
feel another time would—”
“Phoenix,”
Paulo interrupted, with a smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes. “It’s
okay. Let’s sit.”
When they
reached the bench, Paulo collected a stiff Phoenix back into his arms.
She relaxed degree by degree as he placed his chin on her head.
“My wife and I
met while we were attending Brooklyn College. This was years before I
went back to school to study nutrition and fitness. Back then, I was
earning my bachelor’s degree in business administration, with a concentration
on business for health professions. Little did I know God was preparing
me to run the business I have now. Elizabeth was studying psychology.”
“Really?”
Phoenix was startled.
“Yup,” Paulo
answered, placing his chin on her shoulder, before delivering a gentle kiss on
her cheek. “You’re not the only mental health expert I’ve known.”
“Huh,” Phoenix
said, nodding.
“Elizabeth and
I were in our third year when we met. I have to say I fell in love with
her the first day I met her. She was larger than life, you know?
Beautiful, funny, with just the right amount of sassiness. She told me it
was from her Puerto Rican roots. She always seemed to have everything
under control. She was a big girl, I have to tell you, but she seemed to
have such confidence. I never was Mister Universe myself, but had only
been with petite women until her. Her weight never bothered me at all.”
“Yeah, you mentioned
that before,” Phoenix whispered, and fought hard to beat back her jealousy
against a dead woman.
Breathe, stupid. He’s only sharing what
you’d asked about.
“We married two
months after our graduation. Since we hadn’t lived together until
marriage, I had no idea that she used to have these mood swings. During
college, she would suddenly get really busy and not see me for days.
Being busy with work and school myself, I welcomed being with such an
independent woman who didn’t crowd me. I respected the times we spent
together and valued our times apart because it gave me a chance to miss her and
get things done. I think believing she was independent made me want her
more, you know?”
Phoenix nodded
again. “You liked that little bit of mystery, right?”
“Exactly,
especially after being with the pushy, stalker-types I’d dated before
her. But when we were married, there was no way she could hide. One
day, I came home from my job at Bellevue Hospital and she had written these
strange symbols all over the walls in lipstick. I mean, she was
just standing in our living room, naked, and writing on the walls. The
apartment was a mess because she had taken all of our belongings out of their
drawers and closets, saying she was thinking we should give our stuff
away. I had no idea what was going on. When I tried to call an
ambulance, she convinced me that she was just feeling a lot of energy and that
nothing was wrong. She said she was just trying to redecorate the
house.” Paulo closed his eyes and shrugged with a sheepish look. “I
guess I was a fool to believe that, but I wanted to. I had never
experienced such a thing.”
“So what
happened after that day?” Phoenix asked, placing her palm on his cheek.
Paulo took a
breath. “That episode lasted for several days. She was up for about
five days straight, doing crazy stuff like giving away our things, losing
things, or rearranging the furniture six different times. She wanted to
make love constantly. She would speak a mile a minute and was unable to
sit still. She would get really angry and then really calm. It got
to a point where I started looking around the house for drugs, diet pills,
something. Then I figured she had a nervous breakdown and just needed
time. Finally, when she started telling me that she wanted us to leave
New York because the mafia wanted to kill her for testifying against them a few
weeks prior, I called her parents out in Pennsylvania. Her mother told me
that Elizabeth had always had problems. She had been diagnosed with ADHD
as a child and later with Bipolar Disorder. She warned me that Liz was
having a manic episode and that I should send her to a hospital.”
“Did you?”
“Not right
away. Why? Because the very next day, she calmed down. It was
like night and day. She was calm again. She became calmer and
calmer, each day, until one day I realized she was almost too calm.
Suddenly she had no energy. She refused to eat. She slept all day
and refused to bathe. This went on for another few days. She
wouldn’t talk, just stared blankly into space. She would burst into tears
and have long crying spells. She would beg me to make love to her then
cry through it. I called her parents and they decided to drive up.
When they got to our house, her father explained that she had crashed and was
severely depressed. Her mother ended up calling 9-1-1 because I felt too
guilty about it. See, they had been dealing with her psychiatric issues
for years whereas she had never told me. I suddenly understood why she
would disappear for several days, saying she was busy with school. She
was hiding out until she evened out. I didn’t know that she had stopped
her medication—medication she had been taking secretly—several weeks
before. She had been on
Depakote
,
Abilify
, and
Zyprexa
. Those
pills were the reason she had been so heavy.”
Phoenix knew
all about it. Elizabeth’s case was similar to half of her caseload at
work, but she knew not to compare his wife to her own clients. She
continued to listen.
“So she got
hospitalized at Bellevue for about a month that first time. I had her
transferred there since I worked in that hospital. I figured I could
check on her during the day and spend evenings with her after work. Her
psychiatrist—who I met for the first time—came to speak to me in the hospital.
Apparently, Liz had been going there for years and even though I worked there,
I had no idea. He decided to up the
meds
.
Liz, of course, was opposed to it, saying she hated the side effects.
However, she agreed to stay on it to get out the hospital. When she was
discharged, she explained that she was ashamed of her illness and didn’t want
me to leave her. I forgave her for not telling me and decided to hang in
there with her.”
“Most people
would have run screaming,” Phoenix said.
“I loved her,”
Paulo answered simply.
Paulo
continued. “And this cycle went on for years. She would get on her
meds, stay on for several months, feel better, then get off them. When
she was well, we had a wonderful marriage. But when she was sick—”
Paulo shook his head. “At one point, she was hospitalized about four
times in a year. I remember she went missing for three days. The
cops found her barely dressed. Her legs were swollen and bruised, but she
didn’t notice. Apparently she had spent those days walking back and forth
from Brooklyn to Harlem.”
“My goodness,”
Phoenix whispered, closing her eyes. Her heart broke for Paulo’s wife and
for Paulo himself.
“By the
beginning of our fifth year of marriage, I was two steps away from committing
myself into a mental hospital. The doctors weren’t helping, she wasn’t
helping herself, and her parents had moved to Florida when her dad’s job
transferred him. I felt alone in our situation and I didn’t know where to
turn. After she had disappeared again, that time for six days, I had to
place her on a court order to remain in treatment. It caused a bigger
riff between us. She would lash out often because she felt
betrayed. I started venting at work to my boss when he called me in to
discuss my frequent absences. He was understanding, allowing me to work
from home sometimes to watch my wife. He offered me a lot of support.”