On this special evening, Dexter had brought his latest not-so-special piece of trade, Billy Ray, who could best be described as a wanna-be Puff Daddy, but really looked more like Huggy Bear, of the seventies television drama Starsky and Hutch. He had a face that was almost square, a Caesar-style haircut, and jumpy and intense brown eyes. Billy Ray had a lanky and gangling basketball player frame with unusually large arms. He was wearing tight jeans, which made him look like he was concealing a couple of plums, and a short-sleeved, pale blue work shirt that smelled of stale sweat. Raymond realized it was going to be a long evening.
“Are you mixed with sumthin’?” Billy Ray asked as he studied Raymond like a book.
“Excuse me?” Raymond asked. He looked at Billy Ray, then Dexter, and finally Trent.
“You know what I’m sayin’. Look at yourself. Mellow yellow, green eyes, and good hair. If one of yo’ folks ain’t white, then I know they came from the big house,” he said in a full-throated, masculine voice.
“Both my parents are African-American,” Raymond said sternly. He eyed Trent for a reaction, but Trent made sure there was none.
“What did you cook for dinner, Trent? Something smells good,” Dexter said, obviously trying to change the subject.
“Wait till we sit down, Dexter. I know your mother gave you a little home training,” Trent teased.
“What do you guys do for a living?” Billy Ray asked.
“Why is that important?” Raymond asked. He was praying Dexter hadn’t told Billy Ray of his occupation.
“It must be sumthin’ else. ’Cause you brothers are sho livin’ large,” Billy Ray said as he surveyed the L-shaped living room. Raymond was wondering if he should start bolting down anything of value.
“Why don’t we go into the den and get something to drink?” Trent suggested.
The four of them walked from the living area into the den. Trent immediately went to the bar and pulled out a beer. “What are you guys drinking?”
“I’ll just have some wine,” Raymond said.
“Sounds good to me,” Dexter chimed.
“You got any Courvoisier?” Billy Ray asked. Raymond started to say, Only if you can spell it, but resisted.
“Yeah, we do. What do you want with it?” Trent asked.
“Straight up! Ya’ll ain’t got nuthing against something straight, do ya?” he laughed.
Raymond rubbed his temple and wondered where on earth Dexter met these men. Not that he didn’t know a thing or two about trade from his days in New York. He knew guys like Billy Ray from personal experience and from Kyle, who preferred guys like Billy Ray more than someone like Dexter. Guys called them trade because they would barter their sexual prowess for money, cocktails, and drugs.
Billy Ray checked out the furnishing in the den almost as if he was casing the joint.
“Damn, that’s a big-ass TV,” he commented as his eyes came to rest on the entertainment center.
“Yeah it is,” Dexter said. “And when the fights break out on Jerry Springer, you feel like you’ve got a ringside seat,” he added. Raymond was getting ready to ask Dexter when was the last time he’d watched anything at his home during the day, when Trent gave him a half-pained look that said, “baby, please be nice.”
Raymond was happy when Trent announced dinner was ready. He cringed every time Trent would leave the room and Billy Ray would once again begin the questioning. The second time Trent left for the kitchen, Raymond followed. Trent was checking something in the oven and Raymond, shaking his head and laughing, asked where Dexter had met Billy Ray.
“Dexter said he’s one of the maintenance guys at the building where he’s working,” Trent said.
“Why am I not surprised?” Raymond asked sarcastically.
“Now, baby, why you always dogging my friend?” Trent said.
“And I guess he’s supposed to be straight?” Raymond questioned.
“Well, I think he’s married, but we know what that means,” Trent said.
“Yeah, absolutely nothing,” Raymond said as he pulled Trent close and kissed him gently on the lips.
“Thanks for being so understanding. I really wanted this to be a special evening for you and me,” Trent said.
“I know. We will have plenty of time later,” Raymond hinted.
Raymond left Trent in the kitchen and returned to their guests. As soon as he entered the den, Billy Ray had a question.
“So you ever been with a woman, Raymond?”
Raymond rolled his eyes and answered in his lawyerly, almost snobbish tone, “Excuse me?”
“Why don’t we put on some music?” Dexter said as he leaped from the sofa. It was like he was running for cover.
“Women. Honeys. You know. Do you like hit some pussy every now and then?” Billy Ray asked as he pulled out a package of cigarettes from his shirt pocket. Raymond didn’t answer the question but told Billy Ray if he wanted to smoke he’d have to do it outside. Billy Ray raised his eyebrow and gazed at Raymond for a quick second and then said he could wait since dinner was being served. As they were walking toward the dining area Billy Ray spoke again, “What about the tunes?”
“I’m still looking,” Dexter said as he surveyed their CD collection.
“See if they got some Lil’ Kim or Foxy Brown,” Billy Ray suggested.
“I don’t think so,” Dexter said, almost singing his reply in a mock opera tone. Trent came to the door and announced dinner was ready.
He had prepared a meal of beef brisket, string beans with onions, and a sweet potato casserole. Billy Ray packed his plate so full of food that even Dexter looked embarrassed. Billy Ray took a piece of brisket from the platter and slurped it down before it touched the plate. Then he retrieved a couple more pieces of the thinly sliced meat without looking up. Making matters worse, when Billy Ray ate he made a loud smacking and sucking sound. When he took a brief break from his plate, he needed something else.
“Can you hook up a brother’s drank?” he asked as he lifted his glass toward Trent. “Ya know red meat makes a bro thirsty,” Billy Ray said as he stuck his fork into the beef.
“I’ll get it,” Raymond offered. He wasn’t being sociable, but had suddenly lost his appetite. It was a good thing, because by the time Billy Ray finally pulled himself away from the table, there was very little food left.
10
In a few short weeks, Yancey Braxton had become not only Nicole Springer’s devoted understudy but her shadow as well. One of the male dancers in the show commented that Yancey stuck to Nicole like lint on a cheap suit.
Whenever they took a break from rehearsals or Nicole indicated she might have a few minutes to spare while waiting for Jared to pick her up, Yancey would leap at the chance to spend time with her mentor and new friend.
Over a three-week period, Nicole had learned a lot about Yancey and often smiled to herself at their similarities. Besides the beauty pageants, they both knew that one day they would star on Broadway and move on to the big screen. They both grew up in small Southern towns, near big cities. Nicole was from Sweet Home, Arkansas, right outside of Little Rock, and it turned out that Yancey wasn’t actually from Memphis, but had grown up in Jackson, Tennessee, a town just east of Memphis. Both women had strained relationships with their mothers, because they didn’t understand what performing meant to their daughters. And both had lost their fathers, whom they had adored from birth. Yancey told Nicole her mother had further complicated things by marrying her father’s best friend a year after her beloved father’s death.
One day, while they were sharing a large plate of shrimp fried rice in a small Chinese restaurant, Nicole asked Yancey if she had anyone special in her life. A gentle look of amusement crept over Yancey’s face as she answered very softly, “I think I’ve met the man I’m going to marry. He’s a doctor right here in Manhattan. A pediatrician.”
“You’re not going to get married right now, are you?” Nicole asked. She assumed Yancey’s career was very important to her,
or so she thought.
“Oh, no, I’m not even trying to get married no time soon. But he’s the one, and I know I can string him along until I’m ready,” Yancey said confidently.
“Sounds like you got everything under control,” Nicole said.
“I think so,” Yancey replied. She paused for a moment to sip some of the tea from the tiny white cup in front of her, and then her voice turned semiserious.
“Nicole, could I tell you something and you not get upset with me?”
“Sure, why would I be upset with you?”
“Well, this doctor, my future husband, well, you know. Well, he’s white,” Yancey said with a touch of embarrassment in her voice.
“You think I would get mad at you for that?” Nicole asked.
“I didn’t know how you felt about that kind of thing.”
“Listen, love is love and I know it doesn’t have a color. In fact, I was engaged to a white man once upon a time.”
“You were? I had no idea! And here I was thinking I knew everything there was to know about you. What happened to him? Did you meet Jared and then fall madly in love with him?”
“Actually, I did fall in love with Jared rather quickly, but I was long over Pierce. We just grew apart. I had some happy times with him, but in the end it just didn’t feel right.”
“What did Pierce do for a living?”
“Funny you should ask. He was a doctor also. Made a lot of money and became a Broadway producer almost like a hobby, because he kept his practice open. I guess he’s still doing both, although I haven’t heard his name associated with any shows.”
“See how much we have in common? But how could you leave a Broadway producer? Girl, that’s a ticket I would like to get punched.”
“It just wasn’t right,” Nicole said.
“Didn’t you tell me you met Jared through a former boyfriend?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Was it Pierce?”
“No, I met Jared through Raymond, who I dated before Pierce. Raymond and Jared are best friends. Once I got over my anger with Raymond and we became friends, then I met Jared,” Nicole explained.
“Was Raymond black?”
“Yes.”
“Then I bet I can guess why you were angry,” Yancey said.
“You think so?”
“Yes, honey, I bet he was a stone-cold dog. I bet you caught him with another woman. Am I right?”
Nicole sipped some of her tea and began to laugh.
“What’s so funny?” Yancey asked.
“Well, it wasn’t another woman. Let’s just say I lost Raymond to nature,” Nicole said.
“Nature. What do you mean?”
“Raymond was gay,” Nicole said in a matter-of-fact tone. She was surprised how easy that rolled off her tongue, but was proud also. Nicole knew that time heals all wounds and tears are temporary.
“What!!” Yancey squealed. “Girl, naw, see that’s why I don’t date men in the theater and why black men are only good for one thing,” she added.
“But Raymond wasn’t in the theater. He’s a lawyer, who just got nominated for a judgeship. And what do you mean black men are only good for one thing?”
“Wait, before I answer that … are Raymond and Jared still good friends?”
“Yep. Even though Raymond lives with his lover in Seattle, they still talk at least once a week,” Nicole said.
“And you don’t have a problem with that?”
“No, not at all. They were never that type of friends, and besides, I trust them both without reservation,” Nicole said while Yancey eyed her with a don’t-be-no-fool look. She heard a little voice inside her head say, “Damn, this is one real naïve sister. What I’m planning will be a cakewalk.”
“I’ve got a little secret. Now, I’ll be the first to admit that there are some fine, fine brothers out there. I mean just look at the men in our cast. I ain’t gonna get my heart broken, though a woman has her needs,” Yancey smiled.
“Right, but what does that have to do with black men being good for only one thing?”
Yancey explained to Nicole how her first boyfriend, Albert, had broken her heart in high school. Right after she gave her virginity to him, he left her for a white girl. But he continued to have sex with Yancey. Told her she was the best ever. Yancey thought she loved Albert and could win him back with great sex, but her plan didn’t work.
Yancey was crushed, because on their prom night, even though Yancey had a great-looking date, she ended up dumping him and sleeping with Albert. On that night Albert had promised to dump his girlfriend and marry Yancey. Truth be told, Albert married the white girl right after their graduation.
“So every brother I meet is paying for what Albert did. I’ll give them a little action, because, and I know this is a stereotype, because most of them are great in bed. This way I can hold out on Peter—that’s my doctor friend—which makes him want me all the more. But I’ve told him, he ain’t even getting close to sniffing distance until I have a ring on my finger.”
“He doesn’t think you’re a virgin, does he?”
“No, I didn’t go that far. But I told him I’m not that experienced. And he doesn’t know about the brothers on the side.”
“Do you think that’s wise? I mean, what about these so-called brothers on the side? What happens if one of them wants to get serious with you?”
“Then it’s their fault, because I tell them right up front what my deal is. I tell them I’m into my career and I don’t have time for love. Now, if they just want a little sumthing-sumthing and I do too, then we can deal. Otherwise, it’s no play,” Yancey said.
“I hope you’re careful,” Nicole said.
“Trust me, Nicole. I’m always careful,” Yancey said with a smile and quick wink.
11
“I’m a little down today,” Basil said as he crossed his legs at the ankles. He was carrying a rolled-up copy of USA Today’s sports section, dressed casually in starched jeans and a loose-fitting long-sleeved cotton shirt, and wearing a scarlet and gray Ohio State baseball cap. The doctor noticed the black animal-skin loafers he was wearing sans socks. His face was clean-shaven and he was wearing slender gold loop earrings in both ears. He looked like a model for an all-American campaign.
“What’s bothering you?”
“I finally spoke to Yolanda,” Basil said.
“Yolanda, the young lady you were dating right before you started seeing me, right?”
“Yeah, that’s the one,” Basil smiled. The thought of Yolanda still touched a part of his heart.
“Tell me about the conversation.”
“Yolanda was always a class act, and I think she’s really trying to be my friend.”
“You have a problem with that?”
“Damn skippy,” Basil replied indignantly.
“Why?”
“She treats me like I’m not a threat to her and her so-called relationship.”
“A threat? What relationship?”
“I think she’s hanging with this guy she went to school with named Dwight. You know that there’s no way, nohow I can get next to her. Therefore, we can be friends. But it’s really not a friendship at all. It’s very businesslike. I know she cares for me, but she always says, ‘I want to be your friend and help you deal with your issues.’ ”
“Did she say what issues?”
“Didn’t have to. What else would she mean when talking about my issues? I know where she’s coming from.”
“You mind sharing that with me?”
“Might as well, that’s what I’m here for. It’s like, ever since she caught me in the act with that mofo Monty, Yolanda treats me like I’m some sorta gay buddy, like that doctor friend of hers. I hate it when bitches try and discount you because you hit it both ways, or they catch you in some incorrect shit.” Basil paused and pressed his lips together and then used his tongue to moisten them and continued. “To tell the truth, I don’t even know why I called her. Maybe I
was just curious, ’cause she made me wait a year before we talked. I guess she had to get me out of her system. I tried to call her a couple months after we broke up, but sistah wasn’t having it. Never answered her phone, never returned my calls. One of the first things she asked me after we had gone through our ‘how you doin’ … good hearing your voice’ kinda thing was if I had met a nice man. That shit made my skin burn. I mean, I ain’t never talked to women about my sexuality and I’m not about to start some crazy shit like that right now. I like to show a woman what I can do rather than sitting on the phone, like a couple of bitches, chitchatting about what you like to do in bed, and telling me how big a dick the niggah you hittin’ it with has.”
“Why won’t you refer to what you did with Monty as lovemaking or a sexual relationship?”
“ ’Cause it wasn’t. I was just trying to get myself out of a situation. You know with him threatening to drop my name in an interview he was doing. I didn’t want that homo talking about my bizness to anyone. All he wanted was the beef, and anytime you don’t kiss, then you sure as hell don’t call it making love. It’s just hittin’ skins.”
“So you used sex to get yourself out of the situation?”
“Always works, Doc,” Basil said confidently. “It always has.”
“Let’s get back to why you called Yolanda.”
“I wanted to see if she’d come to her senses and decided to give me another chance.”
“Why do you want another chance with Yolanda?”
“I don’t know,” Basil said quietly.
“You don’t?”
Basil was silent for a few moments, then he turned to the doctor and asked, “Could it be that I am, or was, actually in love with her?”
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