“That’s the most ridiculous pile of shit I’ve ever heard!”
“I’m very serious. I’m going to say what I have to say and then I’m going to leave you alone. I’m only confessing to all of this because I don’t want you to misconstrue my actual feelings or think you did something to make me act as I have.”
Mason sighed. “Okay, say your peace.”
“I’ve never been with a man before in my entire life. I’ve never had sex. Not with Logan or anyone else.”
He chuckled. “All right, whatever.”
“All these years, I knew something was wrong with me but I never wanted to face facts. They started when I was just a child.”
“What started?”
“The blackouts.”
“Blackouts? You can’t be serious.”
“I’m dead serious. I have these episodes when I lose chunks of time—sometimes large ones but mostly smaller ones.”
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” he asked in dismay.
“I have a multiple personality disorder, Mason. Whatever transpired last night was between you and Jude, not you and me.”
“Jude?”
“Yes, that’s what she apparently calls herself.” I laughed nervously. “I’ve never met her but I heard it through the grapevine.”
“Hmph, well, I met her.”
I sat up in the car seat. “So you do believe me?”
“I believe that you weren’t yourself last night. I won’t go as far as to say that you were a different person. I’ve seen that sort of thing in movies but never in real life.”
“Well, it’s not as uncommon as you might think. Last week, I searched the internet and there are thousands of websites dedicated to the topic. I even read some testimonials from other people who have the disorder.”
Mason cleared his throat. “This is incredible.”
“There was even this one woman who had more than forty personalities who spanned in age from infancy to the elderly, both male and female.”
“Say I buy into this, Jonquinette. What can you do about it? Do you need to be in some sort of hospital?” he asked.
“Goodness, I hope that I don’t need to be hospitalized. I am seeing a doctor. She’s as sweet as can be.”
“Well, that’s a positive sign, right? The fact that you sought help?”
“Yes, it’s positive. I only wish I’d done it years ago.”
“So she’s treating you?” Mason inquired.
“She’s a psychiatrist so thus far, we’ve just done a lot of talking. I just found out that she met Jude during one of my sessions. Jude came out because she was pissed off about my trying to bring my daddy back into my life.”
“Then your daddy knows?”
“I told him.” I shifted in the bucket seat. “However, he already knew something was wrong. He always has. My mother just never wanted to hear about it or accept it.”
“But she accepts it now?”
I shook my head. “She doesn’t know about the latest developments, but I plan to tell her the first chance I get.” I stared at Mason, who was sitting there looking into space. “I just want to thank you.”
“For what?”
“For at least listening to me and hopefully, for not judging me.”
“I have to confess. Last night threw me for a total loop, especially when you, I mean Jude, told me about what happened with Logan at the wedding. But—”
“But what?” I asked.
“Even though you were acting raunchy and told me about fucking everything that moved, it was strange because I still wanted to be with you. It went against everything I’ve ever believed in, but I still craved you.”
I blushed uncontrollably. “Really?”
He took my hand and kissed it. “Really.” He leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. “Now that we’ve discussed this, I don’t want you to have to go through this alone.”
“I’ll have my parents.”
“Yeah, but you’ll also have me.”
We sat there in Mason’s car for a good while and I started telling him about all the childhood memories, or lack thereof, that I had. He was mesmerized and so was I. To think that he was still talking to me after what Jude had done was all I needed to know to make a final decision. Mason was the man for me. The only man for me.
I woke up early the next morning, miraculously, rejuvenated. Mason had come upstairs with me the night before and stayed with me for several hours. We didn’t really talk, at least not with words. We cuddled on my sofa and watched
Mason must have let himself out because when I woke up, I was covered up with a fleece blanket and the volume on the television was turned down.
It was just after seven A.M. and I was excited, since it meant that I could make it to the eight o’clock church service on time. I was determined to get my life on the right track and getting back into the habit of going to church was a good start.
Even at that time of the morning, church was packed. I managed to squeeze past a heavyset gentleman and take a seat next to an elderly woman on the next to the last pew. The music ministry moved me to the point where I jumped up and started stomping my feet. Normally, I would’ve been too embarrassed to draw attention to myself but something was changing. It was a new dawn.
When it came time for the first Scripture reading, the woman beside me let me share her Bible because I had forgotten mine at home. After the Scripture had been read, Reverend Townsend stood up in the pulpit and told the members of the congregation to shake hands with all of the people surrounding them.
Everyone got on their feet, with the exception of those who could not, and greeted each other warmly. When I shook the elderly woman’s hand, I took a good look at her face and couldn’t help but wonder how old she was. She had a ton of wrinkles but there was something youthful about her appearance.
The rest of the church service was very moving. The minister gave a sermon that I really needed to hear. The topic was “Believe in Yourself.” He reminded us all that every day our beliefs guide our actions and it is up to us to make the impossible become possible. It validated what I had been feeling with Mason the night before. I believed that I could overcome my situation with the right support circle in place and enough faith.
After church service ended, I did something that I had never done before. I actually stayed and talked to people in the fellowship hall. It was the church’s anniversary so there were many people lingering around, preparing for a big celebration dinner later that evening, which I didn’t plan to attend.
I had just finished talking to a woman named Jasmin, who wanted me to join the YAMS, the Young Adult Missionaries, when the elderly woman came up to me and took my hand.
“What troubles you, child?” she asked me.
I laughed nervously. “What makes you think I’m troubled?”
“I’ve lived a long time,” she replied. “And when you are blessed to be here as long as I have, you start to see things. You can read faces. I have been reading yours all day.”
She had me curious. “What does my face say?”
“That you’re hurting. That you came here today looking for help, searching for answers.”
