Cracked Roots & Roses 39: Instructions

A few days later, Tam called and said, “I have something to tell you.”

I said, “Okay, spit it out.”

She said, “While you were dating so-and-so, he was dating three other women at the church—well, three that I know of.”

Even though I wasn’t with him anymore, I was suddenly disgusted at the thought of him. I said, “Where are you getting this from, and why are you just now telling me?”

She said, “I know one of the girls, and she caught him.”

I was listening, but I didn’t hear her. Right then, I realized she had known this when she befriended me but waited until now to say something. What was her angle? Why tell me now? I never found that out.

I told her, “Slight, thanks… I gotta go,” and hung up.

I needed a minute to craft a scathing text—the most cutting text of my life. I wanted this man to know that I knew why he walked out of that theater. I needed him to know that I knew he was trash and that he would never amount to anything because he lacked integrity. I also needed him to know that God would repay him for the abuse he inflicted on unsuspecting women.

I was FURIOUS. I was mad at him, but I was mad at me too. I knew he was a bum, but I just didn’t want to be single anymore. I was willing to tolerate much more than I had in the past. The adage is true: when you settle, you get less than what you settled for.

I got the text nice and tight and sent it right over. He tried to call within a few minutes of me sending it, but I declined the call and blocked him. Then I went to Facebook to block him, but before I hit the block button, I noticed that Tam had just added him as a friend.

This was back when Facebook told you such things. She was all up and through the comments, as recently as that day, brown-nosing him. It felt like she had a lightweight crush on him. So, I blocked her too. I knew she knew, and I felt like she had only befriended me knowing I wasn’t dating him.

I asked her, “Why did you friend him if you didn’t know him?”

She said, “I forgot I did that.”

That was a lie. I never took another call or text from her again.

A few days later, the dream was back. I believe it was because I was no longer distracted by any men or pseudo-friends.

I went to work as usual and settled into a groove. Denise was better, and I had no problems in the department at all. We all had a letter in our gratuity folders telling us to come to the 8th-floor conference room for a spa-wide meeting.

In the meeting, we were informed that the company would no longer offer health insurance and that all our pay would drop to $10 an hour or commission, whichever was higher. Anne Marie decided to do it in one meeting to stop gossip and ensure everyone heard the news at the same time.

It was 2010, and things hadn’t fully recovered. None of it bothered me because my commission was higher—I was the most requested in the nail department. I also didn’t use the health insurance, so it wasn’t a big sticking point for me. I wasn’t bothered, but I could tell everyone else was.

I saw this as the first gentle nudge to get me out. My safety net of benefits and guaranteed pay was gone. God had been merciful in the beginning because He’s good, but eventually, the brook dries up, and you must move.

A few weeks later, a regular of mine named Sue came in for a manicure. She sat down and said, “Boy, is it hard to get an appointment with you! I have to book weeks in advance. You should have your own place.”

As soon as she said it, I felt that twinge I’d felt in nail school when the woman told me not to quit. I brushed it off and started small talk while filing her nails.

She said, “You should go out on your own. You have enough clients to do it.”

My heart started beating faster because I knew this was not Sue talking.

So, I answered the voice. “I can’t,” I said. “I don’t have any money. I’m a single mom, a high school graduate, and I don’t know anything about business.”

I needed to tell God I wasn’t qualified to be an entrepreneur.

She ignored that and said, “Here’s what you’ll do.”

I put the nail file down and sat back in the chair because these were my instructions.

“You will sell prepaid packages to your regular clients and go into business debt-free.”

I said, “What?”

She repeated it verbatim, then stopped talking. My mind took it, and I felt a tear coming to my eye as I finished filing.

She then said, “So, are you all set for the holidays? I still have a little shopping to do for Deidre.”

It was as if she had said nothing.

I excused myself, went to the bathroom to catch my breath and dab the tear, then went back to finish the service. She didn’t mention it again the whole time.

It was official. I was to leave the spa.

After she said those few words, it was like a curtain had been pulled back. I saw how I could go out on my own with no loans or help. While driving home, I called Michelle.

She’s the one who told me the narc was lying in my last blog series, Untangled. I told Michelle what Sue said. I needed someone else to hear it and tell me if I was crazy.

She excitedly said, “It sounds like you’ll be leaving the spa! What are you gonna do?”

I said, “I can’t do that. If someone in management finds out, I’ll be fired. I can’t risk my job.”

She said, “If you don’t do it, you’ll lose it anyway.”

I knew she was right.

I got home and tried to lay on the couch as I had done every night after work, but I couldn’t. That night, the couch felt like bricks.

I couldn’t get comfortable knowing what I knew. So, I went over to my desktop computer and turned it on. It was old, so it had to boot up. I sat back on the edge of the couch, holding my Blackberry, and sighed.

I said, “Okay, Lord, I’ll do it.”

As soon as I gave Him my yes, I had a vision of myself working for myself, and excitement instantly replaced fear.

My mind was suddenly full of what I needed to get started. I went to the computer and thought of 10 packages, starting at $200 for 10 manicures and ending at $800. Before I finished, I felt strongly that I should add one unlimited option for a year at $2,500, so I did.

I sat back on the couch and said, “Okay, who am I supposed to give a letter to?”

Suddenly, 20 names—first and last, with exact spellings—came to my mind. I typed them into my phone. Then I printed 20 letters explaining that I was leaving within a couple of months and was selling prepaid services to get started.

I put each one in a business envelope with a self-addressed, stamped envelope for their purchase. I wrote each name on the envelopes and sealed them with tape.

When I got to work the next day, I looked at the computer in the hall at my schedule. All 20 of those regulars just happened to be scheduled within the next 10 days.

There was no turning back now.