Not a Day Goes By

by E. Lynn Harris

  “Man, I don’t know. All I know is that I got busted and it just made me snap. She’s talking about taking my kids and moving back to Macon. Said she was gonna git what little money I have left.”

  “Do you have a lawyer?”

  “Not one for shit like this.”

  “Give me the information and I’ll try and get down there first thing in the morning,” I said.

  While Cavell gave me the location of the jail, I couldn’t help but think how much his life had changed since he had been cut from the league. I had seen cases like this more times than I wanted to remember. When I first signed Cavell out of the University of Georgia he seemed to be the model citizen. Almost every time I talked to him it was “Praise the Lord” this and “Praise the Lord” that. He even graduated on time with a degree in sports management. But no sooner than he made his first Pro Bowl he became a card carrying member of the “Dick in one hand, Bible in the other” bunch. Bible study on Wednesday night, tittie bar on Thursday. Since he left the NFL he had a lot of jobs coaching at kiddie football camps. I almost suggested the agency hire him as a scout or a full-fledged agent. I was suddenly happy it had remained just a thought.

  “Basil, I appreciate this, man. I promise to git the money right back.”

  “Alright, dude, just try and get some sleep.”

  “It’s obvious you ain’t never been in the joint, dude. I don’t plan to shut my eyes tonight. There’s some big mutherfuckers in here and the guard told me they don’t take too kindly to woman beaters and child molesters.”

  Imagine that, I thought as I hung up the phone and turned out the lamp.

  8

  YANCEY SLUNG her black leather bag on the sofa, picked up the phone, and dialed the number for Basil’s office. When his assistant came on the phone Yancey said, “I need to speak with Mr. Henderson immediately.”

  “I think he’s on the phone with his sister. Can I have him call you back?” she asked.

  “Did you hear me? I need to speak with him now! Tell him it’s important.”

  A couple of minutes later, Basil came on the line. “Baby, why you giving my assistant such a hard time? Didn’t she tell you I’d call you back?”

  “I need to talk to you now,” Yancey said in a high-pitched voice. He could tell she was near tears.

  “Are you alright? I mean, physically?”

  “What do you mean by that? Of course I’m fine physically, but I need to talk to you right now.”

  “You said that. But if you’re not in any kind of physical danger, then I need to get back to my call.”

  “Who are you talking to?” Yancey demanded.

  “I was talking to Campbell about spending some time with Cade. What’s the matter with you?”

  “You’re not listening to me. I said I need to talk to you. A casting agent actually had the nerve to dismiss me today without even having me read or dance!” Yancey said.

  “Is that what you’re so upset about? Baby, you’ll get another job soon.”

  “Don’t you care how I feel? I thought you understood what it’s like out there for me. You said you’d always be there for me!” Yancey screamed.

  “And I will be, but I’ve got to take care of my family as well. Let me call you back or, better yet, I’ll come and take you to dinner after I stop by and see Cade,” Basil offered.

  “If you can’t talk to me now, then forget it. I don’t need your pity. Go spend time with your little nephew!” Yancey said and slammed down the phone.

  Yancey was heading toward her bedroom to wait for Basil to call back and say he was sorry when Windsor walked out of the kitchen with a dishcloth in one hand and a large spoon in the other. Windsor was wearing a pale-blue shapeless dress that looked like something Yancey’s grandmother used to wear to PTA meetings. She had gold hoops dangling from her ears. She heard Yancey screaming into the phone and knew there was diva turbulence in the area.

  “You alright, Yancey?” she asked.

  “I’m fine,” Yancey said as she reached for her bag.

  “Are you hungry? I cooked.”

  Yancey started to say, “What else is new?” It seemed as though every evening when Windsor wasn’t working she was cooking. But Yancey was hungry and mad. “What did you make?” she asked.

  “Come on into the kitchen and smell,” Windsor said, motioning toward the kitchen with the dishcloth.

  Yancey walked into the kitchen and was greeted by air thick with the smell of fried meat. Windsor had cooked fried chicken, rice and gravy, string beans, and homemade rolls.

  “Let me fix you a plate and you tell me what’s the matter.”

  Yancey took a seat at the granite kitchen counter and told her roommate how she had gone to audition for a new musical by George Wolfe. She told Windsor how it was going to be the hottest musical of the season and suddenly the female lead had left the workshop to get married. Windsor listened intently as she poured a cup of sugar into a pitcher of freshly squeezed lemons and water.

  “This is going to be a great role and it’s not going to Audra or Vanessa,” Yancey said before taking a sip of the lemonade Windsor had placed in front of her.

  “How do you know you didn’t get the part?” Windsor asked as she piled a couple of pieces of golden-brown chicken on a cobalt-blue plate and pulled out a yellow linen napkin from a nearby drawer.

  “Right after I sang my song I knew I wouldn’t get this job. I sang my standard audition number. A song from a show I saw in Nashville once. The show was Merrily We Roll Along and the song is called ‘Not a Day Goes By.’ It’s a beautiful song by Stephen Sondheim, and I was in perfect voice. My agent had told me to prepare two songs to sing. But right after I finished the first, the casting agent just said, ‘Thank you.’ Now I know you don’t know much about the theater, but that is the kiss of death. It’s like saying, ‘Kiss my ass, bitch. You have no talent.’ ”

  “Now, Yancey, you know that’s not true. You’re one of the most talented people I’ve ever seen on stage. And look how beautiful you look today.”

  Yancey was getting ready to bite into a piece of the chicken when Windsor quickly grabbed her hand and said, “Let’s say grace.”

  Yancey looked at her as if she were crazy and said, “You go ahead.”

  Windsor closed her eyes and looked toward the ceiling and started to pray. “Lord, we thank you for this food our bodies are about to receive. We thank you for this day and the blessing of life. Lord, we ask that you help Yancey to understand that something good will come from disappointment. That you’re a good God and you know what’s best for us. Lord, most of all we just thank you for being you and loving us and dying for our sins. Amen.”

  When Windsor opened her eyes Yancey was staring at her in amazement. “Girl, you sound like a preacher.”

  Windsor ignored Yancey’s comment and asked, “Is that what you wore to the audition?”

  “Yes,” Yancey said. She took a bit of the piping-hot chicken. Windsor looked at her in amazement, since she had never seen Yancey take a bite of anything that remotely looked like it had been drenched in hot oil. Yancey was wearing a pale pink, tight silk skirt with a black shortsleeved cashmere sweater complemented by a thin string of pearls around her neck. Her hair was pulled back, revealing matching pearl earrings. While Yancey was eating, Windsor unloaded an arsenal of supportive words. “You will be just fine. That casting person is going to wake up tonight and say, ‘What am I doing? I just turned down the most talented and beautiful woman in New York City.’ Trust me, you’ll be getting a call very soon and if not for that job, then something much, much better.”

  “Can you cast a spell on him?” Yancey joked.

  “Now, Yancey, you know I don’t believe in any of that demonic stuff. You just put it in the hands of the Lord,” Windsor said.

  “So you think that’s better than a spell or just finding out who got the job and kicking her ass?” Yancey quizzed.

  “I know it is,” Windsor said confidently.

 
; “So what do you have planned for this evening?”

  “I rented a movie. You want to watch it with me?” Windsor asked.

  “What did you get?”

  “A Perfect Murder.”

  “I’ve already seen that, I think. Isn’t that with Michael Douglas and Gwyneth Paltrow?”

  “I think so.”

  “Yeah, I saw that. It’s pretty good, and nobody plays ‘white girl’ like Gwyneth Paltrow,” Yancey said before she took a final bite of the chicken.

  After Yancey had devoured the entire plate of food, she looked at Windsor and said, “I’m so emotionally spent. Can you run me a hot bath?”

  “Sure. I’ll do that for you. So, did you enjoy dinner?” Windsor asked. She took the black skillet filled with grease over to the sink and poured it out.

  “It was alright. But I can’t eat like that every day. If I did, I’d need more than the Lord to help my career. I’d be big as some of them mamas always singing background,” Yancey said as she dabbed her lips with the napkin and dropped it on the clean plate.

  “How did you lose the weight?” Windsor asked.

  “What are you talking about?” Yancey asked.

  “Oh, I saw you once leaving the HU clinic, and between me and you, it looked like you had gained a little weight since I first met you. I mean, we used to talk about what a wonderful shape you had when you moved into the dorm. We hated you,” Windsor laughed.

  “Trust me when I say this . . . I have never been overweight and I never will be,” Yancey said. She got up from the bar stool and headed toward her bedroom.

  9

  I WON!’ ’ CAMPBELL screamed, clapping her hands and raising her arms in the air victoriously.

  “I think you cheated,” I said.

  “I don’t need to cheat, big brother.”

  “I just let you win,” I teased after I had lost another game of Scrabble to my sister.

  I had decided to spend the evening in her Brooklyn apartment, since I knew soon I was going to be out on the road a lot courting football players after practice and games. Campbell had cooked a wonderful dinner of red snapper topped with scalloped potatoes with some creamed spinach on the side. Cade wanted chicken fingers, but I convinced him fish and spinach were good for building muscles.

  I tried to spend at least one evening a week with my sister and her family. It was a time when I could let my guard down. I didn’t have to worry about what mofos or Yancey were thinking.

  We took turns on where we would gather. Sometimes I would invite them to my loft and would order pizza, or sometimes I would break down and cook a real meal myself. I can do a thing or two with my George Foreman grill. We always played Scrabble or cards after dinner, especially when Hewitt and Yancey joined us. Hewitt’s job as an inspector for U.S. Airways kept him on the road, and Yancey was always doing some show. When Campbell’s job selling real estate in the Mount Vernon and White Plains area caused her to run late, I would pick Cade up from school and the two of us would hang out until Campbell would call me on my celly.

  “So how long are you going to be out of town?” Campbell asked.

  “This time of year is when I really have to work. Starting in September until December I can count on spending at least four nights a week on the road in places like Fayetteville, Arkansas, Tallahassee, Florida, and College Station, Texas,” I said.

  “I know that doesn’t sit too well with Yancey,” Campbell said.

  “No, it doesn’t. Right now she’s not too happy with me ’cause some audition didn’t go well, and she wanted me to make her feel better. I told her I was going to see Cade.”

  “Trust me, I understand her. Hewitt has been traveling a lot lately. Right now he’s up in Albany for a couple of days,” Campbell said.

  “So you siding with Yancey? You supposed to have my back, sister. Besides, sometimes Yancey needs to realize she’s not the only star in my show.”

  “I’m sure she don’t want to hear that, and you know I got your back.” She smiled.

  I looked at my watch and realized it was a little past nine and time for me to head back to Manhattan and pack for my trip. But I couldn’t do that without saying good night to my favorite little man, so I called his name, and out he came running like an All-American running back.

  “Cade! Stop running,” Campbell said. “Your uncle is getting ready to leave. Give him a hug.” He was wearing his New York Yankee pajamas and he still had on his socks.

  “Cade, did you tell your uncle what you’re wearing for Halloween?”

  Cade smiled and shook his head and said, “Naw.” I looked at Campbell and then at Cade and asked, “What? Stone Cold Steve Austin?”

  “It’s a surprise,” Cade said.

  “It’s okay. You can tell him since it’s only a couple weeks away and Uncle Basil might not be in town. He has to go out of town for work.”

  Cade jumped up and down, pointed at me, and said, “I’m going as you. I’m going to be a New Jersey Warrior.” I couldn’t do anything but smile as I again looked at Cade and then Campbell.

  “We found a place on the Internet where we can buy a kid’s uniform with your number on it,” Campbell said. Cade had a pleased smile on his face.

  “If I’m out of town, will you take pictures for me, Cade?”

  “Yep!”

  “You gonna miss me while I’m gone?” I asked Cade.

  “I want to go with you,” Cade said, his face full of a child’s tenderness and vulnerability.

  “I wish I could take you with me, but you’ve got school.”

  “Mommy could write me a note and say I was helping you with your work,” he said.

  “But who’s gonna stay here with me?” Campbell asked.

  “Daddy will be back soon,” he replied.

  I bent down so that I was at eye level with Cade, whose gray eyes were almost identical to my own. “You know I wish I could take you with me, but you got to be the man and stay here and take care of Mommy, okay?” I palmed his head playfully.

  “Okay,” he said with the mournful face he often used to get his way.

  “Give me a hug,” I said, and we squeezed each other tightly for over a minute. As I held him, I was thinking how much I loved this little boy and of the day when I would have children of my own. I almost lost it when Cade whispered, “I love you a whole lot, Uncle Basil.” It didn’t matter how many times I’d heard him say the words, they always touched my heart in a way it had never been touched.

  I rubbed his head gently and said, “And I love you a whole lot too.”

  10

  IT WAS Sunday evening. Windsor was at church and Yancey was snuggled up on her sofa eating fried rice with chopsticks, watching her favorite television show, Sex and the City. One moment she was laughing, and the next she thought, These skinny white bitches need a black girlfriend.

  Yancey removed the sky-blue cashmere blanket covering her naked legs, put the rice and chopsticks on the coffee table, and picked up her cordless phone. After she had dialed the number, she put the sound on mute, then took a small sip of her now warm white wine.

  “Drew residence,” a young child answered.

  “Is Lois in?” Yancey asked.

  “You mean my mommy?”

  “Yes, is she in? Tell her it’s Yancey Braxton.”

  A few moments later Yancey heard her agent, Lois Drew, on the other line.

  “Yancey, is everything alright?”

  “Not really,” Yancey said coolly. She knew Lois didn’t like to be called at home and had only given her the number when Yancey made it a condition of doing business. Lois was her third agent in a year. Yancey had recently left the prestigious William Morris Agency after they signed Nicole Springer, a Broadway actress whom Yancey considered her archrival. Yancey despised Nicole so much that she had spiked her coffee with a laxative when the two were doing Dreamgirls. It was classic All About Eve drama. Yancey still had nightmares sometimes, in which Nicole slapped her in a theater full of people, right
after she had beaten out Yancey for the Tony Award, while a beautiful little girl pointed and laughed at Yancey’s crimson face.

  “What’s the matter? I was just getting ready to read my daughter a story before I put her to bed.”

  “I want to be on Sex and the City,” Yancey said in a matter-of-fact voice.

  “What? You want to be on who?”

  Yancey pulled the phone from her ear and gave it a what’s wrong with this bitch look, then put it back to her ear and said, “I want to be on Sex and the City. Can you believe that a show based in New York doesn’t have some fabulous black diva having sex as well? We do have sex, you know.”

  “We’ve never had any requests from the producers fitting your profile, Yancey. I’m sure I can get you some extra work on the show, which, you know, could lead to speaking parts when they come up.”

  “Now, Lois, I can’t be hearing you correctly. You know I don’t do extra work.”

  “I know, Yancey. And it’s not something I would even bring up. But sometimes you have to find another way to crack a nut.” Lois was beginning to think she needed a chart to keep track of the things this particular client wouldn’t do. No extra work, no soap operas, no shows where her name wasn’t listed above the title, and so on and so on.

  Again Yancey pulled the phone away from her ear and stared at it. When she placed it back on her ear, she raised the level of her voice and said, “Look, Lois, when I signed on with you and your agency, you promised to treat me like a major star. Now correct me if I’m wrong, but if one of your little blonde, blue-eyed no-talent clients called and asked you to get her a reading with a show, you wouldn’t recommend that they pursue extra work, now, would you?”

  Lois took a deep breath and said, “Yancey, we can’t make this a racial thing. You know me better than that.”

  “All I know is I want to be on Sex and the City, and not as some damn extra. Now since you’re my agent, it’s your job to make it happen. When I was at William Morris, they never had a problem sending me on casting calls that didn’t specify a beautiful African American woman. Call me when you’ve set up my audition. Good evening!” Yancey said. She pressed the “end” button on her phone.