“Naw, I’ve got a couple of weeks before registration.”
“You want me to?”
“Right … right. You could come to practice and we can hang out. And you could get a chance to know Dawn,” Kirby said.
“Then it’s a deal,” Raymond said. He suddenly felt a dizzying rush of tenderness and love for his little brother. It was a love Raymond knew he could always count on.
23
“I saw Raymond,” Basil said with a big smile. The doctor tried to recall the last time Basil had smiled so warmly and broadly.
“How did it go?”
“It went fine. Raymond didn’t believe I had come to the game to see him, you know, he thought it was work related. I just had this feeling, knowing Raymond, he’d be at the first game his little brother was starting. He looked great and I even had dinner with him and his folks. His parents were real cool. We didn’t talk that much. I still think he gets nervous around me.”
“Why is that?”
“I think it’s because he doesn’t want me to know how he feels,” Basil said confidently.
“Has he said that to you?”
“No, he doesn’t have to. We’re both men and men play games.”
“Was his partner there?”
“No, and when I asked about him, Raymond gave me this stern look and said he’s fine. And I noticed he didn’t mention him during dinner and gave his little brother the same answer when he asked about him. Something’s up with those two and I’m going to figure it out.”
“And how do you plan to do that?”
“Raymond is coming to New York to work on some legal deal. And from what I can gather he might be here for a while. He said he was going to call, but if he doesn’t, I’ll call him. I heard him tell his brother’s girlfriend where he was staying. I’ll give him a couple of days and then I’ll call.”
Basil was silent for about five minutes. After his initial burst of excitement, his face had grown sad.
“Is there something about your meeting with Raymond that’s bothering you?”
“Not really. I was just thinking about how nice it was having dinner with him and his family. I mean, they really seem tight. I know from past dealings with Raymond that he and his father have had their moments, but they seemed so close. And I could tell his mother spoils Raymond and all the men in that family. It made me wonder what I missed by not having a mother.”
“Are you still planning on finding out information about your mother?”
“Someday. But I don’t know where to start. I guess I could go to my aunt. But in the past she hasn’t seemed willing to give me any information. And besides, what good would it do? I mean, she’s dead.”
“I thought the point was to find out about that side of your history.”
“What if it’s not a good history? I mean, what if I got uncles and mofos on her side of the family that are sicker than my father’s people?”
“That’s possible. But I know you can handle it.”
“I don’t think so, and I have second thoughts about that shit. I might just open up a can of shit I won’t be able to deal with.”
“So why did seeing Raymond with his family make you sad?”
“Who said it made me sad?”
“The look.”
“I don’t get sad about shit like that. I was just thinking how nice I felt. Even though Raymond was semishady, it was just good being around him. Seeing him smile and inhaling his scent.”
“Have you told your father about our sessions?”
“Naw,” Basil shrugged.
“I thought you were planning to.”
“You’re the one that suggested that. I’ve told you about my father and I’m sure he would think this was some weak-ass sissy shit,” Basil said firmly.
“Maybe if you told him what brought you here.”
“What’s that going to do?”
“It might make him understand.”
“How can he understand this shit when I don’t?” Basil asked. He noticed the doctor looking at the clock on the desk.
“I’m outta here. I know my time is up,” Basil said as he leaped from the chair.
24
The tour of Dreamgirls was off to a slow rebirth. Lukewarm reviews and half-full houses had the producers concerned that the show might not ever get out of the nation’s capital. The fourteen days of performances had passed very slowly. One critic had gone as far as to christen the production Screamgirls and predicted that Michael Bennett, the creator, was probably turning over in his grave. He was kinder to the men in the cast, praising the lead, David Brown, in the role of Curtis Taylor, Jr., a Berry Gordy, Jr., type character, and Vondell Thomas, who played James Thunder Early, a James Brown/Little Richard composite character. The only females mentioned were the lead character, Effie Melody White, and Yancey, whom he called “stunningly beautiful with an icy elegance” and “a star waiting to drop on the Broadway stage.” It pained Nicole that neither her name nor her character’s name had received a mention. But she knew that sometimes, when critics were brutal, you considered yourself lucky to go unnoticed.
Nicole was glad to be in Detroit, where she hoped things would be better, despite the fact she was missing her husband. Late night calls from Jared had kept her focused and upbeat, but she was always tired. After the Washington reviews, the director had started three-hour rehearsals in the morning, and then another two-hour session in the afternoon with the female principals. The only good thing was the overtime pay, but Nicole was willing to give up a few dollars for an afternoon nap.
On opening night in Detroit’s Fisher Theater, Nicole and Yancey had a light supper before the bus that transported the company to the theater departed. In the two weeks since leaving New York, cast members were already beginning to pair off. Nicole was happy that she already had a good friend to shop, exercise, and have dinner with before the tour ever started. She knew with a cast this large, she could have ended up like the new kid on the first day of school, walking into the cafeteria and praying someone would invite her to join them. It didn’t help that she felt like a mother to many members of the youthful cast.
Yancey and Nicole were waiting on their salads when Cedric Curry, one of the dancers in the show, walked into the hotel café. Cedric had on headphones and was moving his head and body from side to side, like he was in a dance club, when he noticed Yancey and Nicole. He removed his headphones to give them a wave and a bright smile.
“You think we should ask him to join us?” Yancey asked.
“Why not? I don’t really know him that well,” Nicole said. Cedric, a small man with a teenage boy’s chest and dancer’s butt and legs, had joined the cast during the last two days in D.C. Nicole assumed from his skintight jeans and the way he swung his bag over his shoulder that he was gay. The female members of the cast usually hit it off with their gay peers, as long as they told the truth about their sexuality. Broadway road companies were known for their whirlwind romances, both gay and straight, and nobody had the time to look for love on the wrong team. Nicole figured Cedric hadn’t yet met a love or made a friend among the male cast members.
“Cedric,” Yancey shouted as she motioned for him.
“Hey, ladies! Nicole and Yancey, right? Whassup?” he said as he dropped his large leather bag in the empty seat. “Are you ladies inviting me to join you?”
“Sure,” Nicole said.
“Thanks, ’cause I hate eating alone,” Cedric said as he plopped into the welcoming metal chair. “What did you ladies order, and how much time do we have?”
“We’re just having salads,” Nicole said.
“I’ve noticed that most of the men don’t eat before the show,” Yancey commented.
“Yeah, because we have to do all that dancing. But I need something in my stomach,” Cedric said.
He ordered a bowl of soup and a dinner salad with low-fat ranch dressing, and while waiting for his food, he talked nonstop about how excited he was to be in the cast. Dr
eamgirls was his first national tour. The original Dreamgirls was the first Broadway show he had ever seen, when it came to Los Angeles in the late eighties. He told Nicole and Yancey how great it was to be receiving a regular paycheck and not have to work with a bunch of no-talent singers like he had while dancing in music videos. Cedric was beaming with confidence when he bet that before the show hit Broadway he would be understudying or playing C. C. White, one of the male principals.
“Who all have you worked with?” Yancey asked.
“You name ’em, I’ve worked with ’em. Janet, Jody, Paula, Vanessa, and Toni. You know, all the divas,” Cedric said.
“Did you know Yancey was Toni Braxton’s cousin?” Nicole asked. Yancey looked down as she took her fork and removed an olive from her salad.
“Get outta here! Miss girl is fierce!” Cedric said. “She should be doing Broadway also.”
“Yeah, she’s doing great. But enough about her. Give us the tea on those other divas. Who’s nice, who’s a bitch, and who can really sing?” Yancey asked eagerly.
“I don’t know you well enough to tell you all my secrets. But, honey, don’t give me no wine or a rum and Coke or these loose lips of mine will start waggin’. You call me a talking Sister 2 Sister,” Cedric said with a sneaky smile.
“I don’t think I want to know who’s faking,” Nicole said.
“Well, I do,” said Yancey. “So you can tell me.”
“Nicole, we know someone in common,” Cedric said.
“Really? Who?”
“Delaney Morris. I’m from San Diego and she choreographed and directed a couple of videos I did.”
Nicole was visibly shaken. She stopped eating her salad. Her face became sad, as though someone had just told her that someone very close to her was dying.
“Yes, Delaney and I used to be great friends,” she said sadly. She felt tears begin to run down her face, and she didn’t know how she could keep Yancey and Cedric from noticing.
“Are you all right, Nicole?” Yancey asked.
“Oh, I’m fine. There’s just something in my eye,” Nicole said as she took the cloth napkin and dabbed her eyes.
“She had great things to say about you,” Cedric continued, oblivious to Nicole’s reaction.
“Ya’ll not good friends anymore?” Yancey asked.
“Let’s just say we don’t talk as much as we used to,” Nicole said.
“What happened?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Nicole said as she looked at her watch to see if the bus would save her from talking about Delaney.
“I’m sorry. I thought you guys were good friends,” Cedric said when he finally noticed Nicole’s agitation. “Lord knows I don’t want to bring the star of the show bad vibes on opening night. Are you sure you’re all right?”
“There is nothing to be sorry about. And I will be just fine,” Nicole said confidently. For the next ten minutes, while Yancey and Cedric wrapped up their getting-to-know-you talk, Nicole kept her eyes focused on Yancey’s soft, pink waffle-knit sweater. She was as still as a painting.
Nicole didn’t want to talk about Delaney because it was just as painful as talking about her best friend, Candance, who had died of AIDS a few years before Kyle. But Delaney was very much alive and living a productive life in San Diego with her lover, Jody, and their son, Fletcher. Their once strong friendship had been weakened by distance and a disagreement, not Delaney’s bisexuality. In fact, Nicole’s friendship with Delaney had deepened and grown stronger when Delaney confessed she enjoyed both men and women.
A child had weakened their friendship; the child Nicole and Jared had wanted Delaney to bear for them. The two friends had not spoken since one morning when Delaney called to say she couldn’t be a surrogate for Jared and Nicole. She and Jody wanted their own children and she didn’t think it would be a good idea. Delaney’s decision upset Nicole, not only because her hopes were high for motherhood, but especially since Delaney had suggested herself when they had been unable to find a suitable surrogate.
Nicole’s mind wandered back to that day a few days before Christmas and how she had pleaded with her friend to reconsider. Delaney responded, “I’m sorry. I can’t risk harming my relationship. You understand, don’t you?”
Nicole replied, “No, I’m sorry, Delaney, I don’t understand.”
The waiter returned with the check and Nicole came out of her self-induced trance. She quickly placed a credit card in the chocolate-brown tray and looked at her watch and then at Yancey and Cedric. “It’s show time, kids,” she said. “We’ve got a show to do!”
25
When Raymond arrived in New York, he heaved a big sigh to be there. Pouring down from a cloudless sky, the warm sun felt like the welcoming arms of an old and dear friend.
Once Raymond reached his hotel, he dropped his luggage in his small, one-bedroom suite and decided he wanted to visit some of his old haunts. He walked up Central Park West and over to Columbus Avenue, enjoying the food smells of the city and listening to the sounds rising from the pulsating streets. To Raymond, the Upper West Side seemed trapped in a time warp. The busy neighborhood looked the same as it had a decade before. Abundant rows of colorful fresh produce outside the shops, street vendors hawking pretzels, hot dogs, and cold drinks, and vagrants asking for spare change all fought for sidewalk space with musicians, dancers, and throngs of fast-moving New Yorkers. The only thing different, Raymond thought, was that the horn-honking drivers of ten years ago drove different-model cars.
It was only when he reached Seventy-second Street that Raymond noticed a change. The Citibank where he frequently used his bank card had moved to the right side of the street in the former home of Popeye’s Chicken. One of his favorite restaurants, Tuesday’s, was now a fast-food Chinese place. He walked down Seventy-second and picked up his pace as he approached the location of the Nickel Bar, the infamous, mostly black gay bar where he had met Kyle and several sexual conquests. But the Nickel Bar was now history. The place where Raymond had met one of his best and most colorful friends was now an office supply store.
Raymond stood silently in front of the store. His thoughts drifted back to the late eighties when the Nickel Bar was one of the most popular spots on the Upper West Side. Instead of seeing rows of paper and office supplies through a glass door, Raymond saw a semidark watering hole, with a long oak bar and well-worn stools. He didn’t hear the sounds of the busy Upper West Side, but the blasting music of Chaka Khan, Melba Moore, and Diana Ross. Raymond thought about Arnold, his favorite bartender, and Dennis, the burly bouncer who always flirted with him. Had they moved on to another bar, or had they met the same fate as Kyle and so many of the Nickel’s other patrons and become people with AIDS?
After his walk down memory lane, Raymond was anxious to see Jared. He returned to his suite, brushed his teeth, and spread a warm towel across his face before going back down to the lobby, where he was to meet his friend. Jared was standing with his back toward Raymond, but when Raymond came within five feet of him, Jared could feel his presence and turned quickly to greet his friend.
Even total strangers could tell from the warm smile and the brotherly embrace they shared, not to mention the wet kisses they planted on each other’s forehead, that these two were best friends.
“Man, am I glad to see you,” Jared said as he placed his arms around Raymond’s shoulders.
“Same here, my brotha,” Raymond responded.
“You still lookin’ good,” Jared said as he gave his friend the once-over.
“I don’t know about that,” Raymond said as he rubbed his midsection. He had gained about thirteen pounds since he left his job, and about seven more since the last time Jared had seen him, last winter when they went skiing in Vail. Jared did notice the extra weight in Raymond’s face, but knew his friend might be feeling a little bit sensitive about it. Raymond couldn’t help but notice that Jared looked like he hadn’t aged a day or gained an ounce since they first met in Alabama some t
en years before.
“So what are we going to do? Do you want to get a drink and grab something to eat? How much time do we have?” Jared asked.
“Which question do you want me to answer first? Or should I just say I’m all yours?” Raymond asked.
“This place looks nice. I didn’t even know this hotel was here,” Jared said as he took another glance around the hotel lobby with its cool blue and gold marble floor and vaulted ceiling.
“Yeah, it is nice. I hadn’t heard of this place, but the lady who handles my travel said she had heard a lot of great things about it. And so far, so good. Every room, I think, is a suite,” Raymond said.
“Why don’t we just stay here?” Jared suggested.
“Sounds like a plan to me,” Raymond said as he placed one arm around his friend’s shoulders and gently maneuvered him toward the automatic door that separated the sparkling lobby from the hotel restaurant.
The normally busy restaurant was quiet, the stillness broken only by the sounds of the bartender moving bottles of liquor. A hostess with two large menus in her hand escorted the two men into the dining room, smiled, and said, “Okay, gentlemen, take your pick.”
“How ’bout that table over there?” Raymond said as he pointed to a brass-rimmed table with four chairs in the corner with a view of Central Park.
“Great!” The hostess smiled as she led them to the table and placed the menus in front of them as they took their seats. “Can I bring you something to drink?” she asked as she ran her hands through a tangle of brown curls.
“Two glasses of Pinot Noir,” Jared said. “Naw, make that a bottle.” Jared knew it would take more than one glass of wine for the two of them to catch up on the details of each other’s life. After the hostess left, Jared rubbed his two large hands together and asked, “How was the trip to Chicago?”
“It was a lot of fun. Mama and Pops send their love. Kirby’s doing great, and the little Negro is in love,” Raymond said proudly.
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