Nicole didn’t answer because her eyes were filled with tears as they embraced each other and rocked back and forth.
On the last day of Delaney’s visit to New York, she and Nicole started the day at Scissors New York, a popular salon a couple of blocks from Nicole’s apartment. Scissors was the place in the theater district to have your nails ’cured, and your do done, and at the same time rub elbows with Broadway’s hot and, sometimes, not-so-hot talent.
At first Nicole protested, telling Delaney there was no way on earth they could get an appointment at such a late date.
“Do you know how popular that place is?” Nicole asked.
“I know, darling. But Anderson the owner and I go way back. We’re in like Flynn.”
Just as Nicole and Delaney were leaving for their day of beauty and lunch, the phone rang. Nicole hoped it might be Jared, so she answered the phone.
“Hello.”
“May I speak to Nicole Springer?” an unfamiliar male voice said. “This is Nicole Springer.”
“Ms. Springer. This is Dr. Rodrick Gordon. I examined you when you took ill in Grand Rapids.”
“Oh yes, Dr. Gordon. What can I do for you?”
The doctor paused and then said, “Ms. Springer, I just got your test results back and I wanted to bring something to your attention.”
Nicole raised her eyebrows and threw her left hand in the air as Delaney encouraged her to hurry up by tapping her left foot.
“Yes?” Nicole asked.
“Well, I know how young women, especially in your line of business, watch their weight, but trust me, taking laxatives is not the way.”
“What are you talking about?” Nicole quizzed.
“Ms. Springer, we found a large amount of citrate of magnesia in your system,” Dr. Gordon said firmly.
“What’s that?”
“It’s a clear laxative that has a slight lemon flavor, and I’ve known people to put it in tea and beverages.”
“I’ve never heard of it and trust me, Doctor, I would never use a laxative unless I was instructed to do so by a physician.”
“Good. Laxatives can be very dangerous if they’re abused.” He paused and then continued. “Everything else looks fine, Ms. Springer, but I just wanted to speak with you myself—just in case.”
“Thanks for calling, Dr. Gordon, but I’m fine,” Nicole assured.
When she hung up the phone, Nicole had a puzzled look on her face. She told Delaney what the doctor had said and wondered aloud if he had mixed up her results with someone else’s.
“Delaney, Grand Rapids is a small town. Anything could have happened. A lot of time they have high school kids working in labs. But I’m going to talk with my doctor here about it,” Nicole said.
“Do you think somebody put something in your drink on purpose?” Delaney asked.
“Who would do that?”
“Maybe some guy, trying to get in your pants.”
“But a laxative? I haven’t been anywhere where men would have had a chance to drop something in my drink,” Nicole said.
“What about some of the women in the cast? What about this Yancey child?”
“Oh, Yancey would never do anything like that,” Nicole said.
Delaney walked over to Nicole and took both her hands and said, “Nicole, honey, I know you want to see the good in everybody. It’s one of the things I love about you. But everyone you meet who acts like they’re your friend, ain’t your friend. Everything that glitters sure ain’t gold,” Delaney warned.
“I know that, but I’m sure there’s been a mistake. I’ll get a checkup and I’ll have my doctor re-evaluate the results, but Yancey would never do something like that,” Nicole said confidently.
“Never say never.”
“I know. Come on, honey. Let’s go get our ‘dos done,” Nicole joked. But as she closed the door, the memory of Yancey bringing her coffee each morning came to her. Nicole especially remembered Yancey’s always smiling face.
When they arrived at Scissors New York a little after lunch, Nicole and Delaney sat beside one another on one of the padded benches in the waiting area, across from an attractive black man who had his face buried in the current issue of Essence. Nicole and Delaney were flipping through an old copy of Vibe when they spotted an ad for men’s underwear featuring their waiting-room neighbor.
“That’s him!” Delaney whispered, pointing to the model in the ad.
“Who?” Nicole asked.
“Girl, keep your voice down. It’s him!” Delaney nudged Nicole’s shoulder with her own and nodded toward the brother on the opposite bench. Nicole looked down at the page, then at the man sitting across the room, then back at the ad showing him clad only in briefs.
“You’re right, that’s him,” Nicole whispered. “I can’t wait for Jared to get home, ’cause even though that old boy is fine, my baby would give him a run for his money.”
Delaney turned her attention to the walls of the posh salon nearly completely covered with framed photographs of Broadway stars, models, and a few nonindustry people like the first black female astronaut, Mae Jemison.
“Isn’t that the child you understudied in Jelly’s?” Delaney asked as she pointed to a photograph above the magazine stand.
“Yeah, that’s her,” Nicole said.
“What is she doing?”
“I heard she’s pumping out babies,” Nicole said as she picked up a Body and Soul magazine.
“Why isn’t your picture on the wall?”
“It might be, but it’s probably on the wall downstairs,” Nicole chuckled.
“Well, when the owner, Anderson, gets here, I’m going to make sure we get a new picture of you right here, center wall,” Delaney said as she stood and pointed to the space.
“Wait until I’m back on Broadway,” Nicole advised.
“That will be sooner than you think. Trust me on this,” Delaney said as a beautician’s assistant came over and told the ladies it was time for their first step toward beautiful hair.
About three hours later, and feeling beautiful, Nicole and Delaney walked over to B. Smith’s for a late lunch.
“You look great!” Delaney said, admiring Nicole’s bouncing and behaving hair.
“And so do you!” Nicole said.
“Yeah, that guy who did your hair was something else. Did you see all those tattoos he had?”
“Honey, they were everywhere. If he wanted to, he could probably walk around nude and nobody would know,” Nicole laughed.
“And he was just singing and singing. I started to tell him to let the people getting paid sing the songs. It didn’t matter if he was singing a Jody Watley or Gerald Levert song. I mean his voice wasn’t that bad, but he needs to stick to doing hair.”
“I know that’s right,” Nicole said.
The late lunch of sea bass with champagne sauce was predictably superb. The two women leisurely strolled the three blocks home enjoying the balmy autumn weather. When they walked into the apartment, they found Jared popping the cork on a bottle of champagne. His face lit up when he saw his wife. Their embrace and kiss was so long and tender that Delaney coughed to remind them she was still in the room.
Jared released his wife and walked over to Delaney and gave her a big bear hug that said more than words could ever convey.
“Back at you,” Delaney said. “Let’s have some champagne and make a toast to friendship and love.”
After a few sips of champagne and more toasts, the buzzer sounded and the doorman announced that the driver had arrived to take Delaney to the airport.
“Well, guys,” Delaney said, “I guess this is it for now. You two had better keep in touch.”
“You want me to help you with your bags?” Jared asked.
“Naw, it looks like you’re busy. I can make it,” Delaney smiled.
Delaney came over and gave Nicole a hug and whispered, “I miss you already.”
“Me too,” Nicole said as she fought back tears. And with a wave
and sad little smile, Delaney was gone.
There was an awkward moment as the door closed and Jared and Nicole stood in the foyer suddenly realizing they were alone for the first time in almost a week.
“I sure am glad to see you, Nicole.” Jared’s voice was husky with emotion. “I didn’t know I could ever miss anyone like I’ve missed you.” It was obvious to Nicole that Jared’s anger had passed and given way to something more powerful: an abiding love.
After a moment she said in a whisper, “And I’ve missed you too, Jared.” She took his hand and led him toward their bedroom. Jared followed and grabbed the champagne bottle as they passed through the living room.
Nicole dimmed the bedroom lights. Facing the mirror over their dresser, she had a clear view of Jared sitting on the bed behind her. She turned and smiled at him and asked, “So you got any more secrets for me?”
Jared began to unloosen his tie and whispered, “And you know it!”
51
It was such a beautiful fall day that it almost seemed cruel that Raymond was facing an emotional mountain. When he woke up, Raymond saw a note from his mother telling him she was at the hospital and he should take some time for himself. After eating breakfast alone, he decided to return some phone calls.
He had received bad news from the real estate lawyer in New York, and there had been two urgent messages on his answering machine at home from Lisa, saying she had to speak with him today. It was almost 11:00 A.M. in Chicago, so Raymond knew Lisa would be in her Seattle office. He located her name in his date book, dialed the number, and sipped the last of his lukewarm coffee.
“Lisa Lanier speaking.”
“Lisa, this is Raymond Tyler. How are you doing?”
“I’ve done better. Thanks for calling. I’m afraid I have some more bad news, and we’ve got to act on this right away. Are you still in New York?”
“No, I’m in Chicago,” Raymond said.
“When will you be back in Seattle?”
“That’s up in the air. What’s going on?”
Lisa told Raymond that a Seattle Sun reporter had contacted her office several times inquiring about an alleged arrest for solicitation by Raymond. The reporter wanted to know if that was the reason Raymond’s nomination had been delayed.
“Where did that come from?” Raymond asked.
“Apparently, it’s getting confused with Trent’s arrest. Obviously, this guy hasn’t done all his homework, but now we’re getting calls from the gay newspaper and the African-American paper requesting interviews with you to clear this thing up.”
“And how do you clear up something that’s not true?” Raymond wondered aloud.
“We can hold a press conference denying the charges,” Lisa suggested.
“Isn’t that something your office can do? Why do you need me?”
“Raymond, what are you thinking? Of course you have to be here. You have to look those reporters right in the eye and tell them that it’s just not true.”
Raymond let out a big sigh. “When do you want to do this?”
“We needed to do it yesterday. But no later than tomorrow. Can you be back in Seattle tomorrow afternoon?”
“No, I can’t do that,” Raymond said firmly.
“Raymond, this is important. Are you sure you still want the nomination?”
“Lisa, I really appreciate what you’ve done for me. But the reason I’m in Chicago is because my father had a stroke and he’s still in the hospital. My family needs me right now, and I can’t leave.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that. My mother had a stroke a few years back, so I know it’s tough.” She thought for a moment and then suggested, “Maybe you can make a press release or we could set you up with one of the local Chicago stations and have them feed the press conference back to Seattle. But I want to warn you, this might not be good for Trent.”
“What do you mean?”
“If the reporters keep searching, they may discover the truth. You might need to clarify Trent’s record in any press release or public statement you make,” Lisa said.
“Say what? Tell the city of Seattle that my partner was arrested? There’s no way I can, or would, do that. Trent made a mistake, but he didn’t seek the public eye. That would be unfair to him. So I won’t be making any statement that implicates him in any way,” Raymond said. His tone was clear, confident, and powerful. Raymond’s anger toward Trent had dissipated, leaving a residue of hurt. His mother’s words of advice to forgive echoed in his mind.
“This might be the biggest hurdle of your nomination. I don’t think this is going to blow over,” Lisa said.
“Would that be true if I withdrew my name from nomination?”
“You aren’t going to do that, are you?”
“Look, Lisa, right now my family is the most important thing in the world. And Trent is a part of my family. I won’t subject him to this, so I think I need to prepare a statement withdrawing my name.” He didn’t feel sad, but relieved, like a wall inside him had dissolved. “It looks like the NAACP and Charles Pope will get their wishes,” Raymond said.
“Raymond, why don’t you think this over? I mean, we’ve worked so hard, and I want to see you on the bench. Isn’t this your dream?” Her voice sounded soothing and compassionate.
Raymond thought for a few minutes, then stared at the unmade bed and the breakfast tray on the desk. It was clear to him at that moment he didn’t want to be a judge. Raymond wasn’t even certain he wanted to continue practicing law. He thought of all the years he spent hearing the rain of his dreams, trying to please his father, a man he once dreamed of becoming himself.
“No, Lisa. It was my father’s dream, not mine. I need to get to the hospital, but you’ll get my letter of withdrawal later today by fax. I also want to thank you for all your help, but I know this is the best thing for everyone concerned,” Raymond responded.
“You sound sure,” Lisa said softly.
“I am,” Raymond said. “Good-bye, Lisa.”
Raymond hung up the phone, then picked it back up and dialed Peaches’s number. Having made the decision to withdraw his name, Raymond felt he’d climbed halfway up the mountain. Might as well keep climbing, he thought. Talking to his father and Trent would take him over the top.
“Cuts ’n’ Cobblers, this is Peaches.”
“Peaches, this is Raymond. How are you doing?”
“I’m doin’, baby. What about you? How’s your daddy doing?”
“Well, he’s out of intensive care, but he still can’t speak or walk. The doctor said it’s going to take some time.”
“You tell him and your mother that Peaches is prayin’ for him and I gots me an angel up in heaven who makes sure God gits the word,” Peaches said.
“Thanks, Peaches. But I have some more bad news.”
“What, baby?”
“The attorney for the real estate company left a message saying they rejected our offer. Property up in Harlem is going crazy. Someone has bid $575,000.”
“What? That’s getting close to a million dollars. Baby, I ain’t got that kinda money. What am I going to do?”
“We can look at some other places. As soon as Pops gets better, I’ll come and help you and Enoch find a place where you can have both your home and business,” Raymond said.
“But this is our home. It ain’t fair. Can we make another offer?”
“Sure, Peaches. But even with all your money and what Jared and I can kick in, we can’t come close to that number. Our last offer was only $350,000.”
“Then call them and offer them mo’,” Peaches said firmly.
“What? Where are we going to get the money from?”
“I don’t know right now, but I know this is where I’m ’posed to be, and God wants me here. We’ll figure the rest out later,” Peaches said. “Now I got to go and sell some pies. Thanks, baby.”
“I’ll talk with you soon, Peaches.”
“Raymond?”
“Yes, Peaches?”
>
“Make the offer.”
“Whatever you say,” Raymond said as he hung up the phone.
Raymond and Kirby walked side by side down the polished tile floor of the hospital corridor. Kirby was wearing tan jeans, his navy-blue shirt was untucked, and he was carrying a leather book bag over his shoulder. The brothers were talking about Kirby’s upcoming game against Michigan when Raymond suddenly stopped walking, grabbed his brother by his broad shoulders, and said, “Have I told you I love you lately?”
Kirby blinked his eyes, smiled, and said, “You don’t have to tell me, I know.”
“How are things with you and Dawn? I know you haven’t been able to spend a lot of time with her.”
“Everything is tight.”
“I think that means everything is going well. Right?”
“See, you can still hang with the young playas,” Kirby teased.
Raymond smiled and then his tone turned serious. “Would you mind if I went in and talked to Pops first? I got some things I want to talk to him about.”
“Sure, but you know he’s still not able to speak. He can’t talk back.”
“That’s the main reason I want to talk to him.” Raymond grinned.
“I get your point,” Kirby said as he shook his head. “I’ve been excused from practice, so I’ll go down to the coffee shop.”
“I’ll come and get you when I’m finished.”
“Don’t be long. Mom and I have cooked up a little surprise for you,” Kirby said with a sneaky smile.
“What kind of surprise?”
“I ain’t talking,” Kirby said as he walked toward the elevators.
Raymond wondered for a moment what surprise Kirby was talking about as he walked toward his father’s room. When he got to the door, he took a deep breath and walked in. His mother, sitting by the bed, much like she had the first night, rose to rush over and hug Raymond.
“Any change?”
“He’s able to drink some stuff out of a straw. But still no movement and no talking. I’ve been waiting on you and Kirby, so I can go and talk to the doctor. I want to take my husband home, even if I have to get a home care attendant to help me every day,” Mrs. Tyler said as she picked up her purse from the windowsill.
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