“I’m kidding about videotaping us, but not about riding the jimmie,” I said as I pulled the sheets away and started to suck her nipples and then between her legs. Tiffany began to moan like she was experiencing ecstasy for the first time. She hadn’t felt nothing yet.
A Diva Duet
I swooped into Windsor’s room looking pretty damn hot, if I do say so myself. I was wearing a peach-and-cream-colored silk dress, and my hair was in a French roll and I had done my makeup so it was as perfect as perfect can get without a plastic surgeon, or Sam Fine.
“Don’t you look good,” Windsor said. “Where are you going? To an opening or something?”
“I’m on my way to something very special.” I smiled as I headed straight to Windsor’s closet, pretending to look for something I thought I’d left in the closet before she moved in.
“What are you looking for?” Windsor asked.
“Oh, just something I stored in a box.”
“I wish I could get up and help you find it,” Windsor said.
“Don’t worry. Everything will be just fine,” I said.
I hadn’t seen much of Windsor recently, because Motown had been working me like a field mule. But I didn’t think Windsor had noticed, since her sorors and her church-lady friends were taking good care of her. They regularly brought her meals, flowers and books or magazines. Her two sorors Marlana and Dionne came by almost every day. I wanted to tell Miss Marlana she couldn’t get a career going attending to the sick and shut in, but I figured her talent was limited at best, and maybe by taking care of Windsor she would have something to fall back on, like being a full-time candy striper.
Windsor’s parents and Wardell called three times a day every day. Her parents had even arranged to use their vacation time to take care of her during the last two months of her pregnancy. Then Wardell called and told me about his special plan that would change all that. Just as I located what I was looking for, I heard voices coming from the living room.
“Yancey, I think there’s someone out there. Are you expecting company?” Windsor asked.
“Oh no, I must have left the television on. Look at this, Windsor, this is beautiful. Why don’t you put this on,” I suggested as I held up a beautiful ivory silk nightgown edged in lace.
“I can’t put that on. It’s a special gown Wardell bought for me. I’ve been saving it for our honeymoon. If that ever happens.” Windsor sighed.
“Come on, put it on. Let’s fluff you up,” I said as I moved over to Windsor’s bed and laid the gown against her face to show her how pretty it would look against her beautiful brown skin.
“Yancey, what’s going on?” Windsor asked.
“Nothing. I just think if you put on something nice, it’ll make you feel better. It always works for me,” I said.
“I’m feeling fine,” Windsor protested.
I didn’t pay any attention to Windsor and marched right over to her dressing table and grabbed her comb and brush so I could style her hair. I was so happy she had cut off her dreads and let her hair grow back into a more manageable style. About ten minutes later, Miss Windsor was looking pretty good.
Windsor didn’t ever wear makeup, but I insisted, telling her we could pretend we were little girls playing dress-up. It had always been one of my childhood fantasies to have a sister to exchange makeup tips with. When I finished putting a little blush on Windsor’s cheeks and mascara on her long thick lashes, I topped everything off with some plum-colored lip gloss. I gave her a mirror so she could admire my handiwork, and I think she was pleased, because she couldn’t stop looking at herself. She was gazing so hard that she didn’t even notice when Aunt Toukie walked in wearing a tacky lavender rayon suit and a Tina Turner wig.
“My … my, don’t we look pretty,” Aunt Toukie said. Windsor looked up, briefly startled, and I rushed over and whispered in Aunt Toukie’s ear, “Now, don’t forget this is a surprise.”
“Aunt Toukie! What are you doing here?” Windsor asked.
“Thought I’d come up here to see you. I just bought me a new car from Mel Farr Motors. You know, the guy who does those funny commercials in the Superman suits. He gave me a great deal. Now, what did you ask me?” Aunt Toukie said as she sat down on the edge of Windsor’s bed and kicked off one of the black patent leather pumps she was wearing.
“What are you doing here?” Windsor repeated.
“I told you. I bought me a new car and I wanted to put the pedal to the metal, so I said to myself, ‘Toukie, you need to go check on Windsor and see if she’s still holding on to that baby,’” Aunt Toukie said as she patted Windsor’s stomach. “So how you doing?”
“I’m doing fine. But why are you dressed up?”
“Don’t you like my new hair? I thought, Shit, if Tina Turner can wear her hair in this style, then so can I. You know we around the same age,” Aunt Toukie said.
“Aunt Toukie, can you excuse Windsor and me for a moment? I want to help her put this gown on,” I said.
“Honey, I done seen Windsor naked many a time. She ain’t got nothing new even if she is knocked up,” Aunt Toukie said.
I figured it was no use arguing with her, so I let her help Windsor change while I went out into the living room to make sure everything was set. A few minutes later, I walked in with Windsor’s cousin Bobo, Aunt Toukie’s son, who broke out into song when he saw Windsor.
“Moving on up. To the East Side,” Bobo sang. Aunt Toukie had told me Bobo’s real name was Mouton and he had been like an older brother to Windsor. He was a tall, broad-shouldered man, with a plump face and the beginnings of a double chin. Bobo wore his head bald and had two gold earrings in each ear.
“Bobo, what are you doing here?” Windsor asked in a high-pitched voice that was almost like a scream.
“Had to come check out my cuz before she became a mommy. Cuz, you sho are living large up in here. If I was you, I’d set my ass up in bed all day and just have maids and butlers serving me caviar and shit,” Bobo said.
“Just as long as it ain’t no crack,” Aunt Toukie said.
Bobo looked at his mother with a cross-eyed look on his face and said, “Mama, you know I don’t mess with that shit no more.”
“I guess not. You done smoked up all the crack in Michigan,” Aunt Toukie said.
“You promised if I’d help you drive up here, you wouldn’t bring up my past,” Bobo said.
“I’m a mama, and I can break promises. Besides, I didn’t say nuthin’ to Windsor and Miss Yancey about how you spent a couple of weeks in the joint ’cause you didn’t pay your child support.”
“Bobo, you better take care of your kids,” Windsor said.
“I try, cuz, but the job market is tight in Detroit. Even with all the casinos, it’s still hard for a brotha.”
“Especially when you think the jobs gonna come to you. You think you big time ’cause you spent a couple of years at Wayne State. You still didn’t get your degree,” Aunt Toukie said.
“I’m going back,” Bobo said.
“You guys cut out your family mess,” Windsor said.
“Okay, let’s get to a few surprises we have for you,” Aunt Toukie said.
“What surprises?” Windsor asked.
“Hold on,” Aunt Toukie said as she went to the door and whispered, “Y’all come on in.”
A few moments later, in walked Windsor’s mother and father. They were dressed up nice. Her father was wearing a nice black wool suit with a white shirt and black tie. Windsor’s mother looked beautiful in a lime-green silk suit and a kelly-green hat with different colored flowers covering it.
“Mama, Daddy. What are you doing here?” Windsor asked as I felt my own eyes filling with tears.
“We came to see our baby,” Windsor’s father said.
“But it was supposed to be next week,” Windsor said.
“You want us to go back?” Mrs. Adams joked.
“No, no. I mean, I’m just so shocked,” Windsor said.
“Well, we co
uldn’t miss this,” Mr. Adams said.
“Miss what?” Windsor asked. Suddenly the room became silent and no one answered. Mrs. Adams looked at her husband and then at her sister. Then she looked at me and smiled, and nodded at Bobo, who walked out of the room.
Windsor’s room suddenly felt small and warm with all the people in it. It felt like this when her sorors and prayer circle friends visited.
“What’s going on?” Windsor asked again. Still silence. Windsor looked around the room slowly, waiting for an answer, and then she looked at the door and in walked Bobo and a minister carrying a Bible.
“Reverend Winn! What are you doing here? Am I dreaming? Am I going to die? Did my doctor tell you something?” Windsor asked as she began shaking her head in disbelief.
“You better not die,” a deep voice said. Everyone looked toward the door, and Wardell walked in with a huge smile on his face, carrying a bouquet of ivory tulips. He was dressed in a black pin-striped suit and black silk tie. He looked handsome, and when Windsor saw him she started crying a river of tears.
“Wardell, what are you doing here? Somebody needs to tell me what’s happening. What is Reverend Winn doing here? You know, he’s the one who baptized me,” Windsor said.
“Take it easy, Windsor,” Wardell said as he sat on the bed next to Windsor. “I have to ask you something very important.”
“Of course, you can ask me anything, Wardell.”
“Will you marry me?”
“Don’t be silly, of course I will. We’re already engaged, and you know that’s what I’ve always wanted.”
“Today? Will you marry me today?”
All of a sudden, Windsor’s face beamed like a row of track lighting. It finally dawned on her that we were all here for a wedding. Her wedding to Wardell. Until recently, planning a wedding, let alone attending one, was the last thing on my mind. But when Wardell called me and told me what he wanted to do, it sounded so romantic that I couldn’t resist helping him plan it.
Since I was so busy promoting my album, I wasn’t able to do much. But I had arranged for Windsor’s parents and Reverend Winn to fly in and stay at the Trump Hotel in a corner suite. I had even invited several of Windsor’s sorors and Sister Circle friends to join us after the brief ceremony.
After the minister had pronounced Windsor and Wardell husband and wife, Wardell cleared his throat and said he had something to say to Windsor. “Go ahead so we can eat and drink,” Aunt Toukie said.
Wardell got down on one knee and said, “Windsor, I promise you a love that will never let you down. I know I can be a jackass sometimes, but I’m not too old to change. You make me feel young. Vital. Like I can live forever as long as I have you in my life.” I could see pearls of sweat on his forehead, but his voice was composed, graceful and steady like the professor he was. I looked at Windsor and her parents, who all had tears in their eyes, and then suddenly I felt tears well up in my eyes again. I was looking around for a handkerchief, and my eyes met Windsor’s and she gave me the biggest smile I had ever seen. For the first time in my life, I felt like I was part of a family. Even though I didn’t really know Mr. and Mrs. Adams, Wardell, Aunt Toukie and Bobo, I still felt like I belonged.
• • •
A bout a half hour later, Wardell, Marlana and Dionne wheeled in a cart with the most beautiful wedding cake I’d ever seen. It was three-tiered, and on top of the cake there was a kissing bride and groom. At their feet was a tiny little brown baby in a cradle. Candles were placed all around the bottom tier, and the mellow light reflected off the smiling faces of Windsor’s family and friends, all standing around the cake looking happy and proud.
Marlana came over and whispered how happy she was that my record was doing so well, and I thanked her. Then she asked me if I was going to sing for Windsor and Wardell.
“I have a little something planned,” I said softly.
“Would you like me to join you?” she asked boldly. I thought about it for a few seconds and gently touched her hand and said, “I don’t do duets. I’m sure you understand.”
“Of course. I just thought since Windsor loves the both of us to death it would make her so happy,” Marlana said. I noticed she was wearing a sheer black formfitting dress and you could see her unspectacular undergarments. I wanted to tell her show business was about having a touch of class, not about seeing how stank you could be. But I didn’t say anything, because Marlana seemed like the type who didn’t follow instructions well. When I had called to tell her about the wedding, I told her to dress casual and not like she was headed to the hookers’ ball.
“Trust me, Windsor can’t be any happier than she is now,” I said as I moved to talk to some of the other guests.
Wardell was pouring champagne for everyone and ginger ale for Windsor. Just as he handed me a glass, Windsor’s father stepped forward to make a toast: “Here’s to love and happiness. May Wardell and Windsor and that little one that’s coming share a beautiful life together.” We all clinked our glasses, and Windsor thanked her daddy for his kind words.
“One more little surprise for you, baby,” Wardell said as he sat next to Windsor on the bed.
“Another surprise? Are y’all trying to kill me for real?”
“Yancey is going to sing—just for us.”
I stepped forward and went from hostess to diva in a few seconds. I had to show Miss Marlana how a real diva took control. After I had sung a few bars of the Whitney Houston–Dolly Parton hit “I Will Always Love You,” everyone broke into applause, as my melodic tones filled the room. I was flowing, and just as I was going for my note I heard Aunt Toukie guzzle some champagne and then belch.
Then, just as I got to the chorus, Aunt Toukie also broke into song. We sounded like a cross between an opera diva and two cats fighting in the alley. I tried to ignore the interruption and kept singing, but Aunt Toukie was not to be denied. Everyone looked at Aunt Toukie, but the screeching continued. Every time I would sing a little louder, Aunt Toukie got louder too. I assumed the champagne had taken over her voice and good sense. Finally, Mr. Adams and Bobo each took one of Aunt Toukie’s arms and dragged her out of the room. Just when I was hitting my final note, I heard the door shut.
“And I, I, will always love you,” I sang as I was hitting the homestretch.
“And I will always love you-uuu,” Aunt Toukie sang from behind the door as her cat-screaming-off-key voice echoed the chorus at the top of her lungs. She tried to hold the final note with me but I was not having it. I held the note for over fifteen seconds, when I suddenly heard coughing and choking.
When I finished the last pure note, everyone clapped and shouted, “Bravo! Bravo, diva! Encore!” Just as I was getting ready to take my bow, we heard a muffled “Thank you. Thank you everyone,” from behind the door.
Steam Heat
I went to Basil’s office to let him know face-to-face he couldn’t just treat me like a piece of bookstore trade. Not only was he not returning my calls, but when I went by his place, the doorman said he was not accepting guests.
I got to the office a little before 9 A.M., and as I passed a guy in the hall, I recognized a face I’d sworn I’d never forget. Suddenly, I realized how I knew Basil. About a year ago I had been in Tallahassee, Florida, for a rare out-of-town modeling assignment. After we finished the shoot, I went to a twenty-four-hour health club near the hotel called Run-N-Shot. I was surprised that such a small city would have a luxury twenty-four-hour health club, but Tallahassee is the state capital and a college town.
After a brief workout, I went into the steam room and saw these two men with hot-looking bodies sitting on the bottom level. They were busy talking and didn’t notice me. I couldn’t really see their faces, maybe because I was looking between their legs, even though they had towels covering the lower parts of their bodies. One of them stood up and removed his towel, and I could see that he was bottom heavy, booty, dick and legs of life. It was as though he was inviting me to make a move when he looked in m
y direction and quickly wrapped the towel back around his body.
I thought, shit, nobody knows me here, and I might as well see what trouble I can get into. So I got up from the wet bench, moved toward the two of them and deliberately dropped my towel. I bent over slowly to pick it up, but before I brought my body back to a standing position, I looked at the one who had dropped his towel and said, “Is there anything I can do for you while I’m down here?”
“What did you say?” he demanded. I knew I should have used that as my cue to move on, but I am never one to back down to a macho man, so I repeated myself. The next thing I knew, I felt his large foot crashing into my face, and I fell back on the floor. The two men then raced from the steam room.
I figured he didn’t know how good I was, so I continued my steam. The night was young, and somebody else might walk in who could use my services. Moments later, a large white guy, fully dressed, entered the steam room with one of the guys and looked at him and said, “Is this the one?”
“Yeah, that’s the faggot mutherfucker,” he said.
“Come with me,” the white guy demanded.
“Come with you for what?” I asked.
“Sir. Either come with me or else I will lock your fruity ass up in this steam room until the police come,” he said. He looked at my accuser and said, “Sir, why don’t you get dressed. I’ll meet you up in the office so you can file a complaint.”
To make a sad story short, I ended up being harassed, threatened and forced to sign a form that I would never enter a Run-N-Shot anywhere in the country. Those country mutherfuckers actually called the police, who warned me that sodomy was against local law and it was strictly enforced.
Basil, who gave the name John Henderson, wasn’t around for the interrogation, but he told the manager and the policeman that I had made unwanted advances toward them. Nico Benson was the name and the face I couldn’t forget because he stared at me in the tiny office like he wanted to spit in my face. He was the one who had tried to leave a footprint on my face. The Dukes of Hazzard police took down my driver’s license number and offered it to Nico and Basil in case they decided to sue. They instructed me to make sure I had my ass on the first plane out of town the next morning or else.
Any Way the Wind Blows Page 11