“I don’t hate them. And you know I’ll do anything you need,” Trent smiled.
“I know and I appreciate you,” Raymond said as he sipped some of the cold wine.
About an hour later Raymond was listening to Maxwell’s mellow voice, blending with Trent’s soulful snore, when the phone rang. It was late and Raymond figured it was his father asking about the dinner. He had talked with his father more in the last two months than in the entire previous year. And now when they spoke it wasn’t about Kirby’s football career.
“Hello,” Raymond whispered. He didn’t want to wake Trent. There was no response. Just silence. “Hello,” he whispered again. Suddenly Raymond heard a deep, male voice. “Watch out, my brother. They’re out to get you.” The voice was both frightening and familiar.
And then Raymond heard a dial tone.
Raymond didn’t tell Trent about either of his phone calls. Not the call he received from Basil, who, Trent knew, had rocked Raymond’s world at one point. And Raymond was feeling some guilt because the sound of Basil’s voice made him sweat in places it shouldn’t. Raymond didn’t mention the strange late-night warning call because he didn’t want to talk about it, he wanted it to go away. Besides, Raymond had convinced himself he was dreaming.
But it didn’t take him long to discover which was the more ominous. A couple of days later Raymond got a call from Lisa Lanier.
“Looks like we’ve got a problem,” she said.
“What type of problem?” Raymond asked.
“The NAACP is going to oppose your nomination,” Lisa said calmly.
Raymond felt a sudden chill and then a cold sweat.
“Are you serious?” Raymond asked. He couldn’t believe that the organization he had been a member of since he was nine was against him. His birthday gift. Not the organization where his father, mother, and brother were also lifetime members. This couldn’t be, he thought.
“Yeah, but we’re going to find out what’s going on,” Lisa assured him. “And besides it’s just the local chapter. It’s not like it’s the national office opposing you. This happens all the time.”
“Did they say why?”
“No, I think it’s because they want Attorney Pope since he is a local boy.”
“Are you sure?” Raymond asked. What he really wanted to know was could the NAACP be opposing him because he’s gay?
“Yeah, I’m sure that’s it. They wouldn’t dare do it because of anything else. But nothing is final. They’re holding a press conference in about an hour. I just didn’t want you to turn on the television and find out about it that way,” Lisa said.
“Thanks for warning me.”
“And I don’t want to be the bearer of bad news, but the FBI discovered something they want to talk with you about,” Lisa said.
“Did they say what?”
“No, but I’m sure they will get in contact with you. Now, Raymond, don’t worry, everything will be fine. If it was something major or something that would prevent the nomination, they would have informed the senator. Instead they want to speak with you directly. It’s probably something about a date or some school you attended.”
“Maybe it’s my leave of absence,” Raymond said.
“Don’t worry, this is all part of the confirmation process. Before you know it, I will be calling you Judge Tyler.”
“I hope you’re right, Lisa. I hope you’re right.”
About an hour later Raymond watched as his hostess from the NAACP dinner read from a sheet of paper. Several black men were surrounding her like bodyguards. A television graphic identified them as CCS, Concerned Clergy of Seattle. He noticed the Reverend Willie Mack, Trent’s minister from Mount Zion.
“It’s not that we don’t feel Mr. Tyler is qualified. He’s a fine lawyer and has been a wonderful addition to the Seattle area. We simply feel Attorney Charles Pope is a better candidate and understands the needs of our community, especially on issues regarding the survival of the African-American family.”
With his arms folded across his chest, Raymond watched as Mrs. Ethel Mae Ware refused to answer the reporters’ questions. He suddenly wished he had taped the press conference so he could replay her statement and try to understand the organization’s opposition. Even though he felt he already knew. Because he was gay, they didn’t feel he was a part of the African-American family.
19
“I’m so sorry about this,” Yancey said as she looked at her sterling-silver watch. She nervously twisted her opal ring.
“Oh, girl, don’t worry. He’s probably just running late. You know doctors. I can’t tell you how many times this man has been late for a dinner engagement,” Nicole said as she patted Jared on the arm.
“Yeah, but I had a good excuse,” Jared said as he smiled at his wife and then at Yancey.
“I am so looking forward to my day off tomorrow,” Yancey said.
“Me too. But this is Broadway. It’s only a week before we open in D.C.,” Nicole said.
“I can’t believe it’s that soon. Can you believe they have us going to Grand Rapids?” Yancey said.
“So it’s Broadway bus and truck, but I tell you what, we’ll be sold out every night. In cities like that, the black folks are very supportive. Many come more than once,” Nicole said.
“I hope you’re right. I guess after this week there won’t be many nights off,” Yancey said.
“So you lovely ladies deserve a day and an evening off. Let’s not talk about the bizness and just enjoy ourselves,” Jared said.
“Okay, babe.” Nicole smiled.
The three of them were gathered at Nicole and Jared’s West Forty-ninth Street apartment for dinner on a late Sunday summer evening. The salad was tossed, steaks grilled, the potatoes baked, and the cheesecake delivered. The only thing missing was Yancey’s date, Dr. Martin Beck. Nicole and Yancey had spent the first half hour talking about members of the cast, and how exciting it was going to be traveling around the country with the show. “But only for six weeks,” Jared reminded Nicole. She smiled in agreement.
“Let’s give him about fifteen minutes and then let’s eat,” Yancey said in an annoyed tone. She gazed with envy at the dining room table set with beautiful gold and white china and crystal water goblets.
“Why don’t you call his office?” Nicole suggested, looking at her husband and so happy to be spending an evening at home entertaining. Nicole wanted to give Jared a long, deep kiss, but didn’t want to embarrass her husband or Yancey.
“You think I should?” Yancey asked.
“Why don’t you?” Jared agreed. He, too, wanted to kiss his wife, looking beautiful in a black silk pantsuit. Yancey could tell from the loving look in both their eyes that Jared and Nicole needed a few private moments. She looked at the phone on the kitchen wall and then asked Nicole, “Is there another phone?”
“Yes, yes there is. Use the one in our bedroom,” Nicole said as she pointed toward the bedroom, now finally completely furnished. She was proud of the maple canopy bed and hunter-green velvet chaise.
“I’ll be back in a heartbeat. Don’t ya’ll do nothing I wouldn’t do,” Yancey said with a mischievous smile.
“Don’t worry. Ain’t nothing I do with my wife wrong,” Jared said.
“I ain’t mad at cha,” Yancey said as she grabbed her bag and headed toward the master bedroom.
Once inside, Yancey admired the tastefully decorated bedroom. She pulled open the nightstand drawer and saw several ballpoint pens and several fast-food menus. No secrets there, Yancey thought as she shut the drawer and debated whether or not she should look in the chest. Yancey decided against that and pulled out her electronic date book. She pulled up Martin’s service number. If Martin showed up, it would be the first date for Yancey and the man she had met a couple of days before while walking out of her apartment. She couldn’t decide whether or not to call Martin’s office, his service, or his home number, which he had written on the back of his card. Yancey decided on the office, b
ut after several rings the answering machine picked up. Instead of leaving a message, Yancey hung up. As she walked back into the living room, she caught a surprised Jared and Nicole in a loving kiss and embrace. The two of them didn’t hear Yancey, so she cleared her throat in a very theatrical manner. Looking a bit flushed, Nicole patted her hair softly and pressed her lips together.
“Yancey, is there something wrong?”
“Naw, I just wanted to know if it’s okay if I paged someone.” Yancey was blushing like she had just caught her parents in an intimate situation.
“Aw, sure. Go ’head. You can even answer the phone. Tell them you’re our executive assistant,” Jared teased.
“Okay, sorry about the interruption,” Yancey said.
Yancey returned to the bedroom, picked up the phone, and punched in Martin’s number. When she heard the quick beeps, Yancey punched in Nicole’s phone number and hung up. She got up from the bed, walked over to the dresser, and looked in the mirror to make sure her makeup and hair were in place. She picked up Jared and Nicole’s wedding pictures. Not bad, Yancey thought. While deep in thought about the wedding she hoped to have one day, the phone rang. Yancey put the picture back in its place and rushed over to answer it.
“Martin, where are you?” Yancey asked, assuming this was the return of her page.
“I’m sorry, I’m looking for Nicole Springer. This is Sean Steward of The Rosie O’Donnell Show. Is this Nicole?”
“No, this is her assistant. Can I help you?”
“Well, we had a cancellation and we want Nicole and the Dreams to do our show in the morning. Is that possible?”
“I’m sure she’d love to do it,” Yancey said. She wanted to tell him he didn’t have to call her next, since she was a member of the Dreams as well as Nicole’s understudy. But she was too busy thinking this would be her national television debut. The Rosie O’Donnell Show. The people in Jackson would be too impressed.
“Great. Do we need to send a car? We go on live at ten A.M., but we need Ms. Springer here no later than nine A.M.”
“No, Ms. Springer likes to walk. She’s not that far from the studio. I’ll make sure she’s there before nine,” Yancey said. She suddenly heard a call-waiting beep. “I’ll make sure Ms. Springer is there.”
“Thank you. Tell her we heard great things and we want them to do ‘One Night Only,’ but we want to use the Dena, Lorrell, and Effie characters instead of the Michelle Morris character. Rosie loves the Effie character and loves B. J. Hudson, who’s playing Effie.”
“I will,” Yancey said as her heart suddenly sank and she sat down on Nicole’s bed. Yancey played Michelle Morris, which meant she wasn’t going to make her national television debut. Nicole would be on Rosie, not her. Performing before a national audience as she had in the Miss America pageant. Like when she was nominated for a Tony Award. For all the world to see. Again.
Yancey felt tears close, but blinked them back. She once again checked her makeup and hair, and rose from the bed in one effortless movement. She walked very slowly into the living room, smiled her best Miss Johnson County beauty queen smile, and announced to Jared and Nicole, “Martin can’t make it. He has to deliver a baby.”
It was a rare Monday morning when Nicole thought she could sleep in. She was awakened by soft kisses from Jared, around 7:30. And was drifting into a dreamy state of sleep when the phone rang. It was Yancey.
“Nicole, I need to talk to you,” Yancey said.
“Is everything all right?”
“I think Martin’s trying to run a game on me. Can we meet at the gym, or go somewhere and take a quick dance class?” Yancey asked.
“Sure, but it doesn’t sound like you’re in the mood for a class. And I enjoyed another glass of champagne when you left, so I’m not either. Why don’t we just get together and have breakfast?” Nicole said in a sisterly manner.
“Yeah, maybe you’re right. And this Martin thing may be nothing. But I do want to talk this out before I make any rash decisions.”
“Where do you want to meet?” Nicole asked.
“Why don’t we go uptown? Let’s go to Wilson’s and get a real Southern breakfast.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Nicole said.
“How does nine o’clock sound?”
“I’ll see you there,” Nicole said as she looked at the clock. This would give her plenty of time for her prayer and daily meditation and a long, soothing bath.
“Nicole, I really appreciate this. I feel like you’re the big sister I never had,” Yancey said softly.
“That’s a very kind thing to say, Yancey. And don’t worry. Everything will be fine,” Nicole assured.
She got up from bed and went into her small kitchen. She debated having a cup of the coffee Jared had made, but decided on a glass of cranberry juice instead. Nicole thought the coffee at Wilson’s might taste better.
Nicole was heading back to her bedroom when the phone rang again. She thought it might be Yancey. Nicole remembered how she was when she was young and in love. Every single thing became major drama.
“Hello.”
“I’m surprised you answering the phone so early. I figured I’d get that answering machine,” Nicole’s mother said.
“Hi, Mom, how are you? Is everything all right?” Nicole asked.
“Oh, everything’s fine. I’m just checking up on you. I had a dream about you last night and I just had to call. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Nicole said. She knew this was going to be one of those calls.
“I still can’t figure out why you had to move back to New York. I mean, you and Jared had such a beautiful home down there in Atlanta. Trust me when I tell you, Nicole, you need to have some babies. It might not bother Jared right now, but that boy likes kids and he wants some of his own,” Nicole’s mother said.
Nicole was used to this type of conversation from her mother. Over the years, their relationship changed like the weather. At times, they were a loving mother and daughter and then, with the speed of a tornado, a change, and they couldn’t stand each other.
After thirty minutes of a rapid tumble of breathless words, her mother asked Nicole if she was still trying to get pregnant.
“Mother, I told you I just signed this contract to do Dreamgirls,” Nicole said.
“Dreamgirls, Dreamwomen, or whatever. Is that damn play worth losing your marriage?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Jared and I are even happier now than the day we married,” Nicole said.
“Trust me when I tell you that ain’t always going to be the case.”
Just as Nicole was preparing to respond, she heard the call-waiting beep. “Hold on, Mother.”
“Hello,” Nicole said.
“Nicole. This is Peaches. I need your help,” Peaches said hurriedly.
This was the reprieve Nicole was praying for. “Hold on, Peaches.”
“Mother, I’ll call you back later. I’ve got an important call.”
“What’s more important than what I’m saying? Is it some show business mess?”
“Mother, I’ll call you later. Good-bye.”
Nicole clicked the phone back. “Peaches, I’m sorry. What’s the matter?”
“They trying to take my place,” Peaches said.
“What place?”
“My shop. This jackass who owns the place is trying to sell it. Ever since his father died, he just been snooping around here askin’ if the health department know I’m serving more than pies when I have my meals for my kids. When his daddy was alive, he’d come by and have dinner with us sometimes. But he dropped dead about six months ago and now his son’s basically saying he don’t care what his daddy promised us. What am I going to do?” Peaches asked.
“Calm down, Peaches. Everything will be just fine. Do you have a lawyer?”
“A lawyer. Not here in New York City. Raymond usually handles my legal problems,” Peaches said.
“Have you called him?”
; “Naw, I hate bothering him, but, Nicole, they can’t stop me from cooking dinners for my kids,” Peaches said.
“Don’t worry, they won’t. Listen, I think Jared said something about Raymond taking some time off. If you’d like, I could give him a call and see what he says,” Nicole offered.
“Would you do that for me?”
Before Nicole could answer she again heard the call-waiting beep. She assumed it was her mother, who had probably thought of some other things Nicole was doing wrong, so she ignored the beeps. She was thankful Peaches had a real crisis.
“Peaches, don’t you worry one bit. I’ll call Raymond and I know he’ll help out. And if he can’t, Jared and I will find you somebody who can.”
“Are you sure? ’Cause if Enoch lost this place because of me, well I just couldn’t forgive myself. And my kids depend on me. I don’t want to go back to Jersey. And we can’t even think about finding another place in Harlem. I mean with the Gap and Disney moving up here, regular colored folks can’t find a place to do their own bizness,” Peaches said.
Nicole heard the call-waiting beep again. She ignored it.
“Don’t worry, I have the day off. When I get back from my breakfast date, I’ll call Raymond. Now you get back to making those wonderful cobblers and don’t worry,” Nicole said.
“Thank you, Miss Nicole. I already feel better,” Peaches said.
“Everything will be just fine,” Nicole assured.
“Thank you, sweetheart. If I ever, ever hear anybody saying you got the big head, I’ll stop them dead in their tracks,” Peaches said.
“Thanks, Peaches. I’m glad I’ve got a mother-friend like you.”
When Nicole hung up the phone, she picked it up immediately and heard the rapid beeps which told her she had messages. Nicole had figured as much, and knew her mother’s messages could be as hurtful as live conversations. So she ignored the beeps and got ready for her breakfast with Yancey.
Abide with Me Page 9