+Positively Unexpected – 6
IT was ironic Kingston stayed in a room with consecutive numbered digits. Tasha stood near with the door, with Hop standing close behind her in the threshold.
Kingston was still asleep. His complexion a pale gray, void of life. The strong aromas of cleaners made Tasha extra queasy.
The corner view of the city couldn’t be more depressing with a looming, dark overcast sky. Tasha wanted to blackout tint the windows, or change the view to a peaceful beach. However, with psych patients modern medicine overloads them with truth. And the truth was a blizzard was fast approaching and the sky said so.
Incredibly intimidated by this circumstance and her thoughts about work, Kingston, Jennifer, Hope’s threat, Manhattan, Giles, her reputation, the baby…
Oh no, she referred to her pregnancy as a baby in her thoughts…
Then murder rung loud in her ears. The nightmare of battling Hope in court flashed visions in her mind of the possible torture. The term “legal fees” made her heart hurt. What if she lost the baby due to stress? Could a miscarriage be a blessing?
How insensitive of her thoughts?! How insensitive of her? But if she did miscarry the world would sympathize with her. But not once Kingston was dead though, because that’s probably what he would do! …He would die, if she lost the baby…
But none of this would be a problem if she was honest to begin with. She held a secret in her purse that could dissolve any further connection to Kingston’s life. But then, the chaos would collapse on her and all people would focus on what a liar she was… Yet, the longer she stood in that room, the truer it became that she was and always will be a deceiver.
“I’m sorry…” She turned to Hope behind her. Tasha clutched the straps of her purse, and clung them tightly. Avoiding eye contact, Tasha explained, “I shouldn’t be here…” She rushed to the door, expecting Hope to move out of the way but she didn’t.
“You’re family now. You’re welcome here.”
Gasping with a chortle, Tasha snickered at that statement. She didn’t feel welcomed.
Hope’s eyes finally caught Tasha’s gaze, which made Tasha realize she was welcomed in that room.
Hope explained earlier she didn’t know how to cope with her gay teenage son all those years ago and now deliverance stood in the form of pregnant Tasha. Tasha wasn’t easy when it came to affairs, but she knew when a lover enjoyed sharing the sheets with her, and Kingston most likely didn’t… Tasha’s curiosity and Kingston’s anger is probably what made it worth while, will there be a repeat? Probably not.
Awkwardly, Tasha reached inside her purse and glanced at her phone, hoping to find an excuse to suddenly leave. She did miss a gazillion fresh calls from Rodeheaver, yes that was his name, Dax Rodeheaver executive producer for the Deets– her boss.
She held up a paper thin, Pure G XXI, the size of an Ace playing card that can expand to an 8″ x 10″ tablet, when placed in a Pure Tab XI shell. Tasha pointed to the missed Vid Chat notifications on the surface as she faced it towards Hope, “Work calls, if I don’t go I’ll be out of a job. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be here. I should be putting this fire out at work.”
Hope stood out of the way stating, “All you do is slander and gossip about people…”
Defending herself, “I vowed to not lie on TV again. All I do is place reasonable doubt based on factual information I find. People watch my show because I’m a famous liar.”
Hope allowed Tasha to exit the room.
As Tasha stepped into the hallway, Hope asked, “What do you plan to do?”
Tasha slipped her arm through her purse handle straps. The purse slid down into the nook of her elbow. As sincerely as possibly, she said, “Tell the world what you told me… And announce my pregnancy. I won’t say anything else.”
“[Bleep] no,” Rodeheaver refused to stream Tasha’s pitch.
“I told his mother that I was going to do it.”
“The public doesn’t care why he’s still alive. Stories about why he tried to off himself is trending.”
“We can get ahead of the crib–curb…” Tasha cleared her throat after correcting herself, “by shifting everyone’s attention to the fact he’s still alive, not that he almost died.”
“Still [BLEEP] no,” Rodeheaver said puffing on his e-cig. He blew the vapor into Tasha’s face.
She couldn’t fight her nausea anymore. Grabbing the waste bucket next to Rodeheaver’s desk, Tasha placed the round trashcan on her lap and threw up in it. She dry-heaved out of disgust with vomit splattering in her face.
Rodeheaver went on a cursing tangent, grossed out.
Tasha put the bucket on the floor, next to her seat. Rodeheaver, stood up from behind his desk and set his e-cig down. He crossed to the front of his desk, and sat on the desk surface before Tasha. He loosened his crimson red tie and rolled up his sleeves to his navy blue button down. With the back of his hand, he rubbed the beaded sweat off his forehead. Squinting his hazel eyes, the more defined the crows feet on the outside corners of his eyes were. Lastly, he crossed his arms and the light bounced off his shiny bald head as he stared at Tasha with scrutiny.
“I thought, according to our contract, your tubes were tied…” He pondered.
“The Network Contract does not say that,” Tasha never signed a document she didn’t read thoroughly.
He grumbled and Tasha knew he meant their private contract.
“No, that contract required me to be on birth control and if we ever became exclusive said I would agree to tie my tubes… By the way, I don’t see why you just don’t get snipped yourself.”
“I wish I could, but I’m the last Rodeheaver of American descent. Until, I have an heir I can’t get the procedure authorized by my insurance. I can’t do it illegally, because I could lose everything if a doctor found out at one of my quarterly check-ups.”
“Right… and you don’t want any heirs to take everything from you and leave you in a senior home.”
Grunting subtly to Tasha’s last statement, he pressed forward, “A lot of stories are spinning the same gunk. You were sited at his club hangout kissing him by the bar, went back to his place while Giles was in Japan last month. Last week you were seen going in and leaving the clinic, you’re what? Seven to eight weeks with child?”
“About nine weeks actually…”
“You’re two weeks pregnant at conception… We finished our private contract seven weeks ago, on my desk remember?”
She remembered, but she didn’t realize the technicality.
“A source told Now News that Kingston was posing as the father to co-sign. Did you get the results back?”
“No…” Tasha lied. She knew he’d ask to see it and if he saw it, she could kiss her career and her life good-bye. Sure, getting the abortion would be easier. Because Kingston definitely wasn’t the father… Now, Tasha suddenly felt worse for lying to Mrs. Rourke. Carter couldn’t be the father… because he was snipped. And well, the father just made it obvious he didn’t want the kid to usurp his throne. But if it got out Kingston wasn’t the father of her baby, she would become a home-wrecker and a gold-digger…
“Any other candidate other than me and Bordner’s leftovers?”
“No…” Tasha sighed rolling her eyes. She should have stayed at the hospital.
“Well, until those results come in or we figure out how to spin this [bleep] the way I like, you’re on paid leave.”
“What?” Tasha was confused.
“I can’t fire you, you’re pregnant.”
“Whoa, wait, you want to fire me?!”
“We hired you because you were the most, beloved, trusted liar in TV… Now you’re just a liar and potentially a money-leech with that parasite you’re carrying. We need your story to somehow be historical to blow all this [bleep] out of the [bleep]-ing water. Depending on how Kingston Rourke’s name trends, will determine if you get canned once you don’t have a reason to be on paid leave.”
Tasha couldn’t believe him. Normally, Rodeheaver wasn’t like that with Tasha. He would let her spin anything she sunk her teeth into, even after their private contracted ended, he granted her favor. And Tasha was fine with renewing the contract, he was the one that decided the terms and bylaws for their affair was played out.
Tasha stood up grabbing her purse. He took her by the arms and told her, “You know insurance won’t authorize the procedure if I’m…” he cleared his throat, “if I’m the lucky candidate…”
“I won’t say anything. I’ll say I don’t know…”
“We had a contract, they look up that kind of stuff…”
“Well, then I either go to Canada and get it done or I just give the kid away because I said it before and I’ll say it again, I will never be a mother and I may be in debt until I die, but I will walk in front of a cab before I take money from a man for child support.” Shoving herself away from his grasp, she snapped, “You’re not contracted to touch me like that anymore. Keep your hands off me you mother [beep]er!”
I get that this is a very controversial topic, filtered through more controversy. I am honored to have freedom of religion and speech in America. I don’t feel thoughts, attitudes, and beliefs should be forced on anyone, but I do feel like it IS MORE than okay for every individual to express how they feel, what they believe, and show what they stand for in life.
I do believe the Bible is the Word of God and I don’t think there are any loop holes in the pages. God’s love isn’t gray and SIN is SIN. The Holy Spirit inspired the author of John’s Gospel to write, “the Truth will Set You Free” because Jesus the Messiah said it… Truth is like fire. It needs the wind of our voice to catch or pages to spread across, and the truth is warm to those inside the inner courts of God’s throne room, but a burning furnace to those outside the temple gates.
Real truth can burn and a soul either becomes gold in that honesty furnace or ashes. Repenting from a lifestyle apart from God, and turning towards God leads a soul to life with an eternity filled with gold, but not repenting and staying away from God leads a soul to death and in death a man becomes nothing but dusty ashes.
If you’re a fellow saint who struggles with a desire that grieves the Spirit of God, forget about what the people of the church say, forget about what the world says, and think about you and our beautiful Savior and how amazing His love is and what He meant when He said “It is Finished” on the cross. Your struggle is finished, take that ungodly desire to God and embrace the freedom the Blood of the Messiah purchased for you! I pray you’re free right now, in Jesus’ name. There is no greater name, no greater power.
I’ll be a little transparent…
I grew up in a mostly Christian family. We didn’t always go to church, but we believed in Jesus, the Bible, and God. I would say since I was 6, I had faith in God (still do). Yet, when I was 8 years old, I found myself disgusted with being a girl and I actually formed crushes on girls… not boys. I would have dreams about dating girls my age and looking in the mirror at certain points in the dream and being a boy. This conflicted feeling stayed with me well into my adult years.
When I came to the point where I believed I was meant to be a woman. I started getting dreams about being a lesbian and dating celebrity woman, that I was attracted to in real life. And this was a time in the church where the LBGTQ community was being accepted by branches of Lutheranism, Catholicism, Black Churches, Methodism, etc. I wondered if I could be a lesbian and not practice and become an advocate for the LGBTQ community.
I constantly suffered from anxiety, and I wasn’t fretful of getting sent to hell… I would just get random panic attacks. I would wake up in a cold sweat from night terrors. And I never had any peace feeling like a dark presence was following me.
When I came to the conclusion in my own faith, that homosexuality and changing genders is not biblical and that God could transform me… I got to a point where I cried out to God for deliverance and I got it.
To this day, I have not had same-sex attraction nor have I felt like I was a man. I embrace my womanhood and I’m excited to walk out this life as a woman, a daughter of God.
Storyteller via writer, actor, filmmaker, and artist.