Abide with Me

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Abide with Me Page 16

by E. Lynn Harris


  “In that case, I’d better pass. I’ve got some work to do and I don’t want to miss Nicole’s call after her show tonight,” Jared said.

  “You’re really in love, aren’t you, my friend?” Raymond asked as he placed his towel on a brass hanger and opened the shower door.

  “You need to ask?”

  Raymond glanced at the peaceful look on Jared’s face and said, “That was a dumb question, my brother,” as he walked into the shower.

  Raymond could hear the clatter of dishes and voices as he reached the top steps of Peaches and Enoch’s apartment on the top floor of Cuts ’n’ Cobblers.

  The door was open, so Raymond walked in and saw Peaches talking on the phone and attending to several pots and skillets on the stove.

  “Puddin’, I got to go. I ain’t got time for yo’ mess. My baby just walked in the door. Oh yeah, don’t forget to play my numbers,” Peaches said as she hung up the phone.

  “What’s going on?” Raymond asked.

  “So what did that crooked asshole say?” Peaches asked Raymond as he pulled out a chair at the small dining room table in the kitchen.

  “Don’t I get a hug or something first?” Raymond asked with his arms open.

  “Yeah, baby, but you the one who pullin’ out the chair. Don’t worry, Peaches saved you some supper,” Peaches said. She gave Raymond a hug around his waist. “Um, you smell good, baby. Got on some of that expensive cologne.”

  “Thanks, Peaches. Where is your man Enoch?”

  “Who said he was my man? He’s down there cuttin’ heads. You know he got his regulars who always come late,” Peaches said while pulling out a pan filled with pork chops covered with onion-filled brown gravy. On the top of the stove was a pot of spaghetti and another one with green beans and mushrooms.

  “That food smells good,” Raymond said. He pulled out a yellow legal pad from his leather bag.

  “You know it’s good. Look who cooked it,” Peaches said as she set a chipped plate in front of Raymond. She placed a paper napkin and a set of mismatched silverware on the side.

  Peaches’s kitchen was a cheerful blend of function and down-home comfort. Sheer Swiss dot curtains covered the lower half of the windows that reached from one end of the wall facing the street to the other end. Enoch had attached a redwood planter to the outside of the middle window so Peaches could plant an herb garden. He had also built the floor-to-ceiling knotted-pine shelving on the adjoining wall according to Peaches’s specifications. She kept the shelves stocked with every kind of can, bottle, box, and bag of food she needed on hand to create what Enoch called “her magic.”

  The only thing that seemed out of place was the huge white refrigerator that took up almost one whole wall by itself. A calendar for the Good Shepherd funeral home, a broom, sponge mop, and the folded-up ironing board shared the wall with what Peaches had called a “monstrosity” when it was first delivered. But she was beside herself with joy that Enoch had spent so much of his hard-earned money on her birthday present. While the fancy new refrigerator happened to have all the features that Peaches had pointed out in the mail-order catalog she kept alongside her bed, the real selling point for Enoch was the automatic ice dispenser on the outside of the door. It pleased him to no end to fill glass after glass with crescent-shaped ice cubes to demonstrate the feature to friends. In fact, Enoch had changed his favorite place at the table, from the chair facing the stove to the chair facing the big, shiny refrigerator, where Raymond now sat.

  “I have some good news and bad news,” Raymond said.

  “I don’t wanna hear no bad news. So give me the good news.”

  “I didn’t talk to the alleged asshole, but I spoke with his lawyer. He is interested in selling the place. To the highest bidder. So that means we got a shot. But from what I get from his attorney, he knows what a prime piece of real estate this place is. A group of investors, fronted by an African-American law firm, is buying up every inch of Harlem. You were right on the money when you said Harlem is hot again.”

  “I sho hope that’s the bad news ’cause you know I can’t afford no whole bunch of money,” Peaches said as she slid a pork chop onto Raymond’s plate with a plastic spatula.

  “I looked at the lease and had another lawyer friend look over it. All they have to do is give you ninety days’ notice of their intent to sell the place. It doesn’t matter what this guy’s father told you or Enoch.”

  “Did you ask ’em why they want us out? Enoch’s been here since the beginning of time. It’s got to be my kids.”

  “No, I didn’t bring that up,” Raymond said as he stuck his finger in the gravy and then put the tasty sauce in his mouth.

  “Then you ought to, ’cause I tell you that’s why they tryin’ to get us out of here,” Peaches said, pulling a tin of homemade rolls out of the oven.

  “I know you said that, but what makes you so sure?”

  “ ’Cause once, the mutherfucker who owns the place came over with his ugly ass to pick up the rent, and I was having a cup of coffee with Miss Kitty and he acted like she had leprosy or sumthin’. His father wasn’t like that. And you know I know prejudice when I sees it. I was raised in the South and he acted like some of them crackers I used to run into when I was a little gal.”

  “Peaches, I got to ask you before we proceed. How much money do you think you can come up with, say, for a down payment?”

  “How much I’m gonna need?”

  “Depends on what kinda loan I can get.”

  “Are they gonna wanna check my credit?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then we can forget that.”

  “So your credit’s not good?”

  “That’s one way of puttin’ it.”

  “What about Enoch?”

  “You’ll have to ask him. I do let him keep some of his bizness.”

  “Are you interested in buying this place?”

  “Yeah. This is my home and what kinda fool question is that?” Peaches asked as she lifted her green and white apron over her head. She folded it neatly and sat down beside Raymond. Peaches’s face was full of concern as she prepared her own plate.

  Raymond took a bite of the moist pork chop and a sip of the lemonade Peaches had prepared.

  “Let me see how much they want for this place and then we can pool our resources. I can talk with Jared and Nicole, and we’ll do what we can to make a decent bid. I think Jared said you had a nice little nest egg with your investments. So all is not lost.”

  “It better not be, ’cause if I have to give up my shop and my kids … well, it ain’t gonna be nuthin’ nice,” Peaches said. Then she finally sat down to enjoy her magic.

  32

  After spending most of the day dealing with Peaches and her pending housing problems, Raymond decided to spend the evening returning phone calls. First he called Lisa, who had left several messages for him in Seattle. He looked at the clock and realized that it was almost five in the Pacific Northwest and figured she was still at her office. Lisa picked up after a few rings.

  “This is Lisa Lanier.”

  “Lisa, Raymond Tyler returning your call.”

  “Raymond! It’s great hearing from you. How is everything in New York?” Her voice was full of a teenage girl’s excitement.

  “It’s coming along. It’s great hearing from you also. Have you got some news for me?”

  Lisa was silent for a few seconds, then said, “Well, honestly, I don’t know if you’ll consider this good news or not.”

  “Don’t tell me there are more problems.” Raymond was fearful that Lisa had discovered more secrets about Trent.

  “Not really. I just wanted to run this suggestion by you. And to be perfectly honest, I’m not so certain I would do this,” Lisa said.

  “Do what?”

  “We were talking about your nomination in the staff meeting the other day, and I was letting the senator and some of her top advisors know where we stood. I told them the NAACP was backing down, but if we pro
mised to consider what’s-his-face for the next opening, maybe they would go away quietly.”

  “What did the senator think about that?” Raymond asked.

  “She didn’t say anything, but one of her advisors, and let me just preface this by saying he’s a good ole boy, Seattle style. He asked if you’d be willing to disassociate yourself from Trent and make a public statement to that effect.”

  Raymond went into a shocked silence. He reached for the remote control on the nightstand, clicked on the power button, and instantly hit the mute button and flipped the channels. He finally settled on VH-1 when he saw a Janet Jackson video and restored the volume.

  “Raymond, are you still there?”

  “You’ve got to be kidding, right?”

  “This wasn’t my idea. Trust me. But I had to at least bring it to the table. Besides, there is still no guarantee that the Senate is going to even bring your nomination up this session.”

  “I understand, Lisa. But let me make one thing perfectly clear: I will not be making any public declarations about Trent and my relationship. What I decide to do will be a personal and private decision,” Raymond said firmly.

  “I understand. I’m just doing my job,” Lisa said.

  “I know.”

  “When are you coming back home?”

  “In a couple of weeks.” If I still have a place I can call home, Raymond thought bitterly.

  “Then let me take you to lunch. And I promise not to talk about the confirmation or Trent,” Lisa said.

  “Sounds like a plan,” Raymond responded.

  “Take care, and I’ll look forward to that lunch.”

  “You do the same,” Raymond said. Just as he was moving the phone from his ear, he heard Lisa call his name once more.

  “Raymond, you know I would never ask you to do such a thing, don’t you?”

  “I do, Lisa. Like you said, you’re just doing your job. Now, you have a good evening and don’t worry about me,” Raymond assured.

  “Thanks a lot. Good night.”

  “Good night.”

  Raymond was heading toward the small kitchen in his suite for a glass of wine to calm his temper, but before he reached the doorway, the phone rang.

  “Hello,” Raymond said.

  “Whassup, my boy,” Jared asked.

  “Gotta be you. Are you at home?”

  “Now, you know I’m still at the office bustin’ my chops. I got to make sure I got everything in order before I go spend a couple of days with my baby,” Jared said.

  “I forgot. When are you leaving?”

  “Day after tomorrow. Bright and early.”

  “I guess you miss Nicole,” Raymond said softly.

  “And you know that. I didn’t realize her being on the road was going to be this hard on me. What about Trent? Are you going over to South Africa or is he coming here?”

  “We haven’t decided. But something gotta give soon,” Raymond said.

  “You sound like me. We men do have our needs,” Jared teased.

  Raymond started to tell Jared sex wasn’t the reason he needed to see Trent, but decided against it. “So how long you gonna be at the office?”

  “At least another couple of hours. I’m breaking in my new assistant, Connie.”

  “So you went with the sistah?” Raymond quizzed.

  “Yeah, but ole Billy Bob made it easy for me,” Jared said. Billy Bob was a term Jared used when referring to white men.

  “You talking about the white guy you were considering?”

  “That’s the one.”

  “What did he do?”

  “He took a job with a senior partner. Which means he’ll probably be my boss one day,” Jared laughed.

  “That’s life in the big city called corporate America,” Raymond mused.

  “And you know that. I was just checking with you since I know it’s going to be late when I get in. I’ve got to see you before I leave.”

  “Just tell me when. I’ll make time,” Raymond said.

  “Let me see how much I get done tonight and early in the morning. I’ll give you a holler and let you know before noon tomorrow.”

  “That’s cool with me. Now, don’t work too hard. Remember you gonna need your energy when you get to Michigan.”

  “I always got energy for my baby,” Jared said.

  “Later, boy.”

  “I’ll holla at ya.”

  This time Raymond made his way to the kitchen and was savoring his glass of wine when the phone rang. He expected to hear Peaches’s voice when he picked up the phone, but instead it was Kirby.

  “Whassup, playa-playa?” Kirby asked.

  “Lil bro. I was going to call you.”

  “I had to call you ’cause you know I got this curfew thing and I have to study and get my playa points in. I’m almost as busy as my big bro,” Kirby teased.

  Kirby and Raymond talked about football, Kirby’s new love, and their parents. When Kirby said it was time to call it a day, he asked Raymond if he would see him the upcoming weekend. Kirby mentioned he thought he was close to convincing his father that he deserved a Range Rover instead of the used Mustang he got when he graduated from high school.

  “Are Mom and Pops coming?” Raymond asked.

  “For sure. I think they are going to stay a week. I mean, since they’ve retired, Pops likes to come up and catch as many practices as he can. It’s like I never left home,” Kirby said.

  “Then I don’t think I’m going to make it,” Raymond said. He enjoyed watching his little brother play or stand on the sideline, but he was not interested in a face-to-face meeting.

  “Why not?”

  “Me and Pops need to give each other some space. We had another falling-out,” Raymond said.

  “When did that happen? You guys seemed cool when you were up here for the Oklahoma game.”

  “It’s no big deal. Pops probably needs a couple of games to cool down. Besides, I know he likes spending time with you and your football playa friends,” Raymond said generously. He wanted to keep Kirby out of his disagreement with their father.

  “Is it the gay thing?” Kirby asked with some caution in his voice. The two of them rarely talked about Raymond’s sexuality. In fact, Raymond had never told his little brother he was gay, but assumed Kirby, being an honor student and all, had figured it out when Raymond stopped talking about women and had that look of love in his eyes whenever he mentioned his fraternity brother Trent.

  “What do you mean the gay thing?”

  “I don’t mean anything about that. I just know Pops can sometimes be close-minded about stuff. He is from the old school of playas,” Kirby explained. Raymond was amused that his little brother was trying to let him know he was cool with Trent and his living arrangement, but like his father, he wasn’t necessarily interested in the details.

  “Naw, it doesn’t have anything to do with that. Tell Mom to give you Pops’s version. Better yet, let’s just leave it alone. I’ll make the next game. And your message said you had something important to talk with me about. It must be important ’cause you didn’t even give me a chance to return the call. What’s that about?”

  “It can wait,” Kirby said quickly. “I’m still waiting on some information.”

  “What kind of information?” Raymond thought maybe Kirby was going to come to him as backup in his quest for new transportation.

  “Like I said, big bro, it can wait. I’ve got curfew. Later, playa,” Kirby said.

  “You hang in there, little bro. Give the folks and the lady friend my best.”

  “Will do.”

  Raymond had another half glass of wine, then removed his pants. He was preparing for a shower when the phone rang again.

  “Whassup, playa hater?”

  “Basil, whassup with you?”

  “Just calling to see if you’re ready.”

  “Ready for what?”

  “Our midnight workout, of course. Didn’t I tell you I was going to get you back into sha
pe before winter comes?”

  “Man, I don’t know. I’m kinda tired and I’ve had a couple of glasses of wine. Maybe we can do this tomorrow.”

  “Naw, man, come on. I know you might be a little bit sore, but that’s the best time to work out. Besides, I put off my workout waiting on you. Now, I’m not going to take no for an answer. Do you want me to swing by and pick you up or are you going to walk?”

  Raymond thought about Basil’s offer for a few moments and recalled their first late night workout. It had been an eye-opening evening that turned to morning, lifting weights and talking, while enjoying the view of some of New York’s finest, not to mention Basil. No matter how Raymond felt about Basil there was no denying his handsomeness. Besides, another glass of wine would cause a restless sleep and extra, empty calories.

  “I’ll meet you at the gym,” Raymond said.

  “Got my jockstrap on tight and on my way out the door,” Basil said.

  The thought of Basil and his ass and sex covered only by a jockstrap made Raymond smile to himself as he rushed for his warm-ups and tennis shoes.

  When Nicole opened her eyes early Wednesday morning, she had an uneasy feeling. Yancey wasn’t in her bed and it was obvious that she hadn’t slept there the previous night. During her big-sister moments like this, Nicole wished she had a prayer partner to start her day. She had thought of asking one of her female castmates, but thought they might think of it as just something older women did. She brushed off her anxiety about Yancey’s absence. Besides, Nicole didn’t want the cast thinking she was old-fashioned or some kind of religious fanatic. And she considered her faith a personal thing and could hear her late father saying, “Let your life preach more loudly than your lips.”

  The two of them had spent the previous evening with several cast members at a local cabaret located close to the theater. It was a small, dark place with a middle-aged black man named Gus playing the piano. After a few drinks, several of them took turns at the microphone belting out tunes, much to the delight of Gus and the local patrons.

  It was like the Star Search finals. Cedric had started it with a silky version of “I Who Have Nothing.” Nicole followed with a sultry version of “Someone to Watch Over Me.” But it was Yancey who brought the crowd to its feet with a soulful version of the Carpenters’ hit “Rainy Days and Mondays.”

 

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