Abide with Me

by E. Lynn Harris

  Yancey was then joined by several hunky dancing boys, including the recently jilted Devin. There was a pivotal moment in the show when the lights would dim to a single spotlight, and Yancey would be at center stage holding an eager audience in the palm of her hand.

  The audience seemed so still, Yancey could almost hear them breathe as one in anticipation. Given her natural flair for the dramatic, Yancey paused precisely five seconds before belting out the first bar of Dena’s theme.

  But something was wrong. There was some sort of disturbance in the audience. A woman’s voice. Someone standing in the third row, making some kind of commotion. Members of the chorus continued to dance, but with questioning looks on their faces, while Yancey ignored the outburst and began to work her number.

  Just as the two other Dreams were about to join her onstage, Yancey heard someone call out her name from the audience.

  “Yancey Braxton, you stank ho!”

  The voice sounded vaguely familiar, but Yancey couldn’t quite place it. She continued to sing each note perfectly, but she felt a chill twisting through her body, like someone had placed a tray of ice cubes down her beautiful gown. She tried to will herself not to look into the audience, but with the stage lights out, she could clearly see a woman with a huge bust and with blond streaks mixed through auburn hair, wearing a short-skirted fire-engine-red suit. The woman was standing behind the mayor of Memphis and his wife, both of whom had turned around in shock to look at the bizarre scene.

  In fact, much of the audience had turned in the woman’s direction to watch four ushers pull her up the aisle and out of the theater. Halfway up the aisle, the woman forced herself free, and turning toward the stage, she yelled one more time:

  “Yancey Braxton, bitch! Fucking stank ho!”

  The audience gasped as the ushers pulled and pushed the woman out into the lobby, while Yancey sang the last soulful phrase of her song. After she held the last note an extra measure, the audience gave her a standing ovation.

  After the show, Yancey rushed to her dressing room for her reunion with her mother. Once there, Yancey quickly removed her makeup and was brushing her hair when she heard a knock at the door. Her heart was beating like a drum as she raced to open it.

  It was Chris, the director. “Are you all right?” he asked as he entered the dressing room.

  “I’m fine. Why do you ask?” a disappointed Yancey said, returning to her dressing table.

  “That crazy woman in the audience. The theater called the police and they took her down to the station for questioning. She said her name was Nisey and that she went to school with you. Would you like a police escort back to the hotel?”

  “Nisey, oh, I’m not a bit surprised. That chile ain’t never had any class. Probably was her first time at the theater. And no, I don’t need an escort.” If I ran into that broke-down ho, I’d beat her ass down, Yancey thought to herself. “Thanks anyway.”

  “Really? Okay, if you’re certain. And by the way … you were absolutely wonderful tonight. I’m so glad I put you in the role of Dena,” Chris said.

  “And so am I. Well, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get dressed. I’m waiting on my mother,” Yancey said as she pulled her robe close.

  “Was she supposed to be in your house seat?” Chris asked.

  “Yes. Why?”

  “Because I was looking out at the house, and that was the only empty seat in the place, that one and Nisey’s after she was escorted out,” Chris said.

  Yancey felt she was close to tears as she asked, “How can you be certain it was my seat?”

  “I know because I made sure you had the best seat available. It was second row center—right next to the mayor and his wife.”

  “Oh.”

  “Are you all right?” Chris asked as he touched Yancey softly on her left arm.

  “I’m fine. My mother is probably at the hotel. I’ve got to hurry and get there,” Yancey said. Her eyes lost their sparkle.

  “If you need me, you can reach me at the Radisson,” Chris offered.

  “Thanks, Chris,” Yancey said as she closed the door behind him. She released the fabric of the robe and got dressed. Maybe Ava’s car had been delayed, or maybe there had been an accident, Yancey thought to herself. She had to get to her room.

  Yancey bolted out of the theater and whisked past a group of teenage girls waiting for autographs. “Miss Braxton, you were so wonderful. Would you sign my program?” a young black lady asked.

  “No, I can’t, I’m in a hurry,” Yancey said. “Try me tomorrow.”

  After practically running to the Peabody, Yancey rushed to her suite. The emptiness of the suite felt cold to her. But then she saw the message light flashing on the phone. Of course, Yancey thought. She has been delayed. Just as well with Nisey in the audience trying to upstage her. Yancey made a silent vow to herself to be even better tomorrow night when Ava would certainly be front row center.

  Yancey pushed the button marked “messages.” An automated voice informed her that she had two messages and to push the number 7 to play them. Yancey quickly pushed the button and heard Ava’s voice. “Hey, sweetheart. I guess you know by now that I’m not there. I’m sorry but I won’t be able to make it. I’m in Atlanta right now on my way to Spain. I got a call this morning from the producer of the show at Le Monte Carlo. He was in a bind. His star broke her leg and he was expecting the royal family of Luxembourg to attend his cabaret tomorrow night. I had to leave ASAP. I’m so sorry, and I wanted to be there so badly tonight, but you know the business, and trying to get out of Jackson … is so …” Yancey heard the dial tone, and she hit the 7 again. “Sorry, but that damn machine cut me off. Well, they’re boarding my plane and I’ll call you once I’m settled. I know you did great tonight, and don’t worry, I promise …” Again Yancey heard the dial tone, only this time Ava didn’t bother to call back.

  Yancey slammed the phone down and poured herself a glass of champagne. She opened the French doors to her suite and walked out onto the small balcony. She looked at the dark sky with a handful of stars. After a glass of champagne, Yancey felt intoxicated by the stillness of the Memphis night.

  She refreshed her glass, took a long sip of her drink and then couldn’t decide what to do with the half-filled flute, twirling it in her hand from left to right. After a moment, she raced back into her suite, gathered up the photos, letters, and postcards in silence, and placed them back in the special box. And then she very slowly poured the sparkling, bubbling liquid into the box over her prized keepsakes. And then in a fit of rage and sorrow, Yancey tossed the glass across the room, where it crashed against the wall, breaking into several tiny pieces.

  49

  “Did you miss me last week, Doc?” Basil asked as he took a seat.

  “I was a little worried.”

  “Don’t worry, I know the rules. You’ll get your check,” Basil smirked.

  “I’m not worried about that. What happened? Did you ever hear from Raymond?”

  “Yeah, I did, and he had a good reason for standing me up. He left me a message. His father had a stroke. He sounded pretty sad, but I’m not here to talk about Raymond,” Basil said.

  “So what would you like to talk about?”

  “I’m thinking my pops has been lying to me,” Basil said without emotion.

  “About what?”

  “I think Campbell is telling the truth. Matter of fact, I’m willing to bet she’s telling the truth.”

  “About her being your half sister?”

  “Yeah, I think me and Campbell are related.”

  “Why do you believe her now?”

  “About a week ago, I’m leaving the gym and Campbell is standing out front. The first thing I think is, now this bitch is going to start stalking me and I’m going to have to find another gym or contact the police. But when I saw her, I was just going to ignore her and walk past her.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “She had this little boy with her. He had a little
football in his one hand and the other hand in his mouth. When I looked at him, I couldn’t believe how much this boy looked like me. His eyes were exactly like mine. The color of his skin. His nose, even though it’s small, looked like mine. It was like I was looking at myself as a child,” Basil said.

  “Who was this child?”

  “It was Campbell’s little boy. His name is Cade. I mean, Doc, when I looked at him, I couldn’t believe it. I stared at Campbell and then I started wondering if I had slept with her. I mean the little boy was about six years old. I started thinking that if I hadn’t slept with her, maybe she had pulled one of those stunts you hear that women do all the time. You know, giving their girlfriends the semen of somebody famous. But I’m hipped to that shit, and I always make sure I dispose of the condoms. At least with women, ’cause I know how sneaky they can be.”

  “What did you say to Campbell?”

  “I looked at her and asked, ‘Who is this?’ ”

  “Did she answer you?”

  “Yeah. She said this is Cade, your nephew.”

  “How did that make you feel?”

  After a considerable silence, Basil stood up, trying to organize his feelings. He felt angry, he felt betrayed, and yet he was excited about his new family. Yet his emotions attacked him from every direction.

  “At first I was mad, because, Doc, I could look at this little boy and tell that he was a part of my family. I even wished he wasn’t just my nephew but my son,” Basil said as he sat back down.

  “Why?”

  “ ’Cause he’s a great kid. After we talked for a few minutes, Campbell asked me if I’d like to spend some time with Cade. That let me know she wasn’t fakin’.”

  “And what did you do?”

  “At first, I was a bit hesitant. I mean, I haven’t spent a lot of time with kids, but something made me say yes. And we had a great time. He can already play some video games and we went to this playground down in the Village and got on the swings. I mean, we had a ball. Last Saturday I took him to my place and rented the movie The Lion King and we went to that big toy store on Fifth Avenue and Cade ran me crazy. He’s going to be some type of athlete. Says he wants to play hockey so I promised to teach him how to ice-skate. I didn’t tell him I had to learn first. It was wonderful,” Basil said, smiling.

  “What’s that smile about?”

  “It’s something Cade said to me when I took him home.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He wouldn’t let go of my hand, and when I tried to shake it loose, you know in a playful way, he said, ‘Uncle Basil, stay with me.’ I mean it almost brought tears to my eyes.”

  “Sounds like you got a new friend.”

  “Yeah, it does.”

  “So, Campbell wants you involved in your nephew’s life?”

  “Yeah, she does. Despite me actin’ like an ass when she first brought this up to me.”

  “Did you call your father and tell him about what you’ve discovered?”

  “Not really,” Basil said with a slight waver in his voice as he continued. “I mean I called him and asked him if he knew anything about my mother’s family. Where I might contact them and get a picture of her.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He said he didn’t. Asked me why I was asking about her.”

  “Did you tell him?”

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I could tell from his voice that he was lying. I needed to be looking at him dead in his face,” Basil said.

  “Are you going to do that?”

  “At some point.”

  “Why are you waiting?”

  Basil lowered his voice, as if he were speaking directly from his heart. After a deep breath he said, “Because when I do, I’ll have to accept the fact that my father doesn’t give a shit about me. How could he? How could he give a fuck about me by keeping me away from the woman who brought me into this world? All of his fucking manhood pride. Maybe he did know about what my uncle did to me. If he could keep something like this from me, then I don’t know what kinda fucker I’ve got for a father.”

  “You know to bring closure to this, you’ve got to confront your father, don’t you?”

  “I don’t have to do nothing. I don’t have to deal with that crazy fuck, ever. I know I’ll hear from him if I stop calling or sending him checks. But I don’t give a fuck!”

  “Basil, can I ask you something about your father?”

  Basil narrowed his eyes and looked at the doctor with suspicion, then asked, “What?”

  “Are you afraid of your father?”

  Basil took another deep breath, and his gray eyes misted, but remained steady, and said, “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know?”

  “I don’t think I’m afraid of him. Right now I’m just scared that my whole life has been a cruel hoax. Maybe I’m not fucked up because of what my uncle did to me, but because I’m my father’s son.”

  “Say it,” the doctor said firmly.

  “Say what?”

  “Say what your uncle did to you.”

  “I don’t like thinking about it. I don’t like saying it!”

  “I know this is difficult for you. But I also know, as do you, that talking about it—saying what happened to you—gives you power. Every time you say it brings you one step closer to defeating it.”

  “But you know what he did. I’ve already told you.”

  “So, tell me again.”

  “Doc …”

  “Basil. Say it.”

  Basil bit down on his lips. His eyes were watery with unshed tears as he sat in silence. When he finally spoke, it was not with the voice of a confident superstar football player and sexual conqueror, but that of a frightened little boy. “My uncle molested me,” Basil said. “He fucked me.”

  50

  Delaney’s rescue mission had turned into a three-night slumber party for two old friends. Though Nicole had recovered from her minidepression and seemed to be doing fine, Delaney was glad that Jared would be back before she left to go back to San Diego.

  The first two days had been rocky. Nicole had poured out her hurt. It didn’t help matters when Delaney informed her that Yancey had assumed the role of Dena Jones.

  “Are you sure?” Nicole asked Delaney as they sat cross-legged on the bed in pajamas. Their sleepwear made them feel like teenagers rather than two grown ladies.

  “You didn’t know? Cedric told me. I know you were in bad shape when I got here, but I told you how tight Cedric and I became when I hired him to be in a couple of videos. What kinda girl is Yancey anyway? Cedric seems to like her.”

  “Oh, she’s a sweetheart. But I’m a little bit surprised they gave her the role, since she’s so young, but I guess nothing in this business should shock me,” Nicole said. “I’m just kinda sad Yancey didn’t share her big news with me herself. But I guess she was being a friend by not rubbing her good fortune in my face.”

  “Now, Nicole, you know friends are rare in this business. One of the things I always hated and loved about you is your wanting to believe in the best in people. I ain’t built that way. I’m always covering my b-a-c-k,” Delaney said.

  There were times when Nicole appeared both pitiful and vulnerable. During those times she would rush to her bedroom or bathroom and pray, and then listen to the gospel song “Stand” once more. Delaney had alternated between comforting Nicole with hugs and chamomile tea and threatening to kick her butt if she didn’t stop feeling sorry for herself. Delaney didn’t know which tactic had done the job, but she was grateful for the guidance that led to her friend’s recovery.

  On day three, Nicole was beginning to look, act, and feel like her true self again. She suggested they do a little shopping along Fifth Avenue and then spend the evening at home cooking dinner together. Delaney had suggested that they go out to Justin’s, Puffy Combs’s Chelsea restaurant, then realized that Nicole didn’t want to miss Jared’s nightly call from Atlanta.


  Jared called at least twice a day, and again in the evening to whisper “Good night, and I love you” in Nicole’s ear. No talk about their argument, no mention of babies, surrogates, and adoption agencies. Jared was ecstatic about Nicole’s improvement and was looking forward to coming home soon. They both were eager to be in each other’s arms again.

  “Do you two really think you can live without each other?” Delaney teased after Nicole ended a long conversation with Jared by planting a big, juicy kiss on the telephone receiver. “I mean ya’ll are acting like you just started hitting it.”

  “I can’t wait to see him and make up,” Nicole said. “I love him so much and I could have lost him by being so selfish and silly.”

  “Honey, you two are a mess. Still acting like school kids after all these years. I ain’t mad about it!”

  “What about you? You look good. Are you still in love?”

  “Oh, I’m in love double-double. I love Jody like mad, and Fletcher, your godson, is a joy. You know what I ought to do is send Fletcher here for a couple of weeks so Jody and I can take some time away. We’ll see how truly interested Mr. Jared is in being a father,” Delaney laughed as she placed a bag of popcorn in the microwave while Nicole opened a bottle of wine. Nicole had taken the goose-down pillows off her bed and the quilt off the guest room bed, and brought them into the living room, where the two women snuggled up to watch a tape of The Preacher’s Wife.

  “You could send Fletcher up here for a whole year and I don’t think it’s going to change Jared’s mind about children. Everything is okay right now, but I know sooner or later something’s gotta give.”

  “And you’ll handle it when you have to. All you got to do is put on that damn gospel song ‘Stand’ and give me a call. With the combination of you praying and me giving kick-ass advice—well, obstacles don’t stand a chance.”

  “I’m going to miss your silly behind,” Nicole said, and reached over to hug her friend.

  “I love you, Nicole, and I’m very proud of you. If you ever need me,” Delaney said, hugging her friend, “I’ll be there for you. Always.”