Angel R. is an upcoming writer, spoken work artist with a huge heart to see particularly woman walk in the fullness of her beauty and identity in Christ. She is a beautiful force to be reckon with and yet when you talk with her you can’t help but notice the steadfast twinkle of joy in her eyes and the warmth of her voice that invites you to come sit awhile. She is no stranger to hard things, but neither is she to beauty.
•Note from Christina
This is a short story that is continued on substack. I am *always* an advocate for writers and artists to be visited. Get to know them on their platform. Angel asked permission to Feel free to respectfully ask them questions and leave encouraging comments.
Scared and frustrated, Herita took a deep breath and lifted the test – the one she had to count silver coins to purchase – after begging her neighbor for a ride to the drug store. She knew that night was never meant to happen. She wanted so badly to be seen and heard, and even wanted, but not like this. This time, she had allowed it to go too far. Nickole, her oldest, came bursting through the door on his two-wheeler, looking for his mom and screaming in his sing-song voice, “I am thirsty!” Meanwhile, her five-month-old sat nicely on the curve of her hip.
“God, if you’re real,” she said, “you know I cannot do this again,” as she lovingly picked up the juice cup and placed it on the makeshift cup holder of the two-wheeler. “Tank you, mama!” shouted Nickole, as the baby boy jumped with full power out of her arms – nearly head first into the toilet.
Ever since Durant passed away, she had been so alone that night when she finally went out. Her sister Connie came by and convinced her that it was time for a girl’s night. The night was a blur, and Connie left her with some guy, and they started talking. He reminded her so much of her late husband – nowhere near his good looks or his intelligence – but he said something that made her heart yearn for his touch. That next morning, she woke up at home in her bed with a horrible headache and two beautiful boys laying at her side. She was riddled with guilt, shame, and anger, and she wept as loneliness overtook every inch of her mind, spreading to the room and filling her home.
If it had not been for these perfect little boys, the spitting image of their father, she would find another plan for her life – one that didn’t include living at all. But Durant would say, with such faith, “These are my seeds, and they need watering daily.” Durant did just that, and he was such a good father – something she didn’t have much of growing up. Her mom, being a single mother with five children, each with different fathers, she never knew who to listen to when the yelling began.
Con hollers from the bathroom, “What does two lines mean?” while Herita is in the bedroom laying Emet down. Herita yells, “two lines means yes!” as she comes running in the bathroom to see for herself.
Herita anxiously replies, “MY GOD, what am I going to do?! There is no way I can do this. I just can’t! I have no money, I can’t even take care of the two I have now. How will I do this for another one?!” She raises her voice, saying, “Get out, Connie! You are the one who did this!” Herita angrily says, “Why did you talk me into leaving the house?! You knew I wasn’t ready, and then you left me alone for so long with ‘that guy’!” She fell to the ground, and her words became heavy with deep sobs.
“Momma! MOM! Mommy! Are you ok?” Nickole cried, rushing to her side as Herita began to sit up and collect herself. Her outburst frightened him, reminding him of the day an officer had come knocking on their door. Hesitantly, he asked “Is daddy dead again?” Herita numbly looked at her son and replied, “He can only die once, Nickole. He is gone and never coming back.”
Nickole, frozen where he stood, was reminded of his dad’s death. He eventually said, “No, mommy, he is not dead. He is alive, and we will see him again.”
Herita was exhausted, and time had slipped away from her. The sun faded, and Emet was sleeping soundly. Herita, focusing on her sweet son’s face, took a deep breath and said, “Okay, lets get ready for bed. We have a long day tomorrow.”When the boys were in deep sleep, Herita walked back to the bathroom to triple-check her results. In a state of disbelief, she frantically started using the other pregnancy tests, only to find out they are all positive. She knew there was only one way to make this disappear, and asking God was out of the question because He never answered her. The things she once knew to be true were all lies, because she stopped caring about that “right for life” walk she joined as a teen.
She pulled out her phone and began to Google “Help, I’m pregnant, and I need it gone.” She quickly deleted the words and said, “I have no money, I’m single, and I’m lost. I need to know how to take care of an unwanted pregnancy. How can I make this go away?”
Many results came up, but one stood out, called “Precious Thoughts.” She started to remember when Durant would sing to their children as they went to sleep, about their thoughts and how they were precious to him. “I miss him so much,” she said to herself. “It’s not fair he left me here to deal with all of this by myself.” She mustered up the courage to call the center and was met with a kind voice over the phone. Whispering so as to not wake up her kids, she set an appointment for the next day. She immediately started to worry about who would watch her children and remembered that Connie would help.
During the night, Herita woke up every couple of minutes whenever her boys would turn over. She thought to herself, “They really need to start sleeping in their own beds.” Restless, Herita decided to make it a goal to save up for a new bed for Nickole once she got through her appointment.
The next morning, Herita walked into a building with a sign that read “Precious Thoughts.” The anxious thoughts in her head whispered, “No one needs to know. This will be done quickly and quietly.”
“WELCOME!” a lady happily exclaimed from behind the front desk. Herita slowly walked up to the desk to be met by a short lady with bright, colorful glasses and kind eyes. Herita took a deep breath and told the lady she had an appointment, and the lady handed her a clipboard with paperwork. The lady then asked Herita if anyone was with her, and, fighting back tears, she responded, “No ma’am, I came alone.” The lady puzzled Herita, saying, “No, you didn’t come alone.” She came around the front desk and hugged Herita. “You didn’t come alone because I am with you. If you’d like, I can go back to the room with you.” Herita immediately felt comforted as the lady released her from their long embrace.
In that moment, she knew she could get through the appointment because she wasn’t alone.
A little while later, a nurse sitting across from her confirmed the positive test result. She asked, “How do you feel about that?” Herita replied, “How do I feel? I feel nothing… I knew I was pregnant, but I am here to get this taken care of. I cannot raise another child. My youngest is 5 months old and, I am doing this alone.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she became aware of the lady from the front desk sitting next to her. The lady was no longer holding Herita’s hand, but she could still feel her presence. She quickly regretted saying she was alone, remembering how the lady had previously reminded her that she was not.
The nurse asked her if she had time for an ultrasound, and Herita knew she had the time, but couldn’t understand why it was necessary. She told the nurse she didn’t want an ultrasound because she didn’t consider it a real person. Afterwards, the lady from the front desk, named Lillian, took her hand, and Herita told the nurse that she needed to be done with this. She asked how to go about getting rid of it. The nurse replied, “We do not perform or refer to a clinic that performs abortions.” Herita tensed up at that very word. She knew that abortions were wrong because they took the life of a child, but she didn’t believe that was what she was asking to do. Her desire was to receive a pill to help her cycle start sooner, causing it to remove any unwanted cells that would fix this. She wanted the pill, and she wanted it fast.
Lillian invited Herita back for an ultrasound appointment. She said to Herita, “Herita, if you decide to have an abortion, please come back to us. We have a support group of women who have been in the same place as you and are feeling hurt. Jesus loves you and the very baby in your stomach.” The word ‘abortion’ kept causing a heaviness to fall over Herita. She couldn’t believe the words Lillian was saying to her. She replied, “You’re telling me I can come back and talk to you? I feel so at peace here with you, even though my mind is far from at peace.”
“May I pray for you before you leave, Herita?” Lillian asked.
“Sure, I need all the help I can get,” Herita says,sarcastilly. She asked if it was okay to lay her hand on Herita’s shoulder, and Herita agreed. Lillian began to pray for her.
“Oh, Lord, you know everything there is to know about her. You perceive every movement of her heart and soul, and you understand Heriats every thought before it even enters her mind. You are so intimately aware of her. You read her heart like an open book and you know all the words she is about to speak before she even starts a sentence! You know every step she will take before her journey even begins. You’ve gone into her future to prepare the way, and in kindness you follow behind her to spare her from the harm of her past. You have laid your hand on Herita! Every single moment you are thinking of her! How precious and wonderful are your thoughts towards her. “
Herita’s eyes widened as tears streamed down her face. “How does she know Durant’s song to our kids?!” she thought.
Lillian continued praying, saying, “Oh God, how vast is the sum of Your thoughts. If we could count them, they would be more than the sand. When Herita opens her eyes she will know. Amen.”
Lillian looked at Herita and told her that she was glad she came in, hoping to see her again soon. She gave her the number for Precious Thoughts and told her to text or call if she needed anything before her next appointment.
As Herita walked out of the front door, she was in complete awe of what had just happened in there. She couldn’t think straight, her mind racing with thoughts. Her thoughts struggled to make sense of how Lillian had prayed over her using the same words Durant would sing to the kids at night. She didn’t believe in God, but she knew there was some other power she had just walked away with.
“What is this feeling?” she asked herself.
The story of Herita and her boys will be continued one Angels substack link below.
substack.com/@angelrichardsdon