Just As I Am

by E. Lynn Harris

  After lunch, the three of us took in a movie and window-shopped along Columbus Avenue. When it was getting close to the time for me to depart for the theater, Dellanor suggested to Delaney they get tickets to Jelly’s for the evening because she wanted to see her other daughter, me, perform.

  Delaney and I explained to her I was just a standby, but told her it was a great show and she should try and get tickets for this evening. Then she could brag to all her friends in Seattle that she had “done” Broadway! I promised to get her an introduction to Gregory Hines, whom, it happened, she had seen as a little boy when he was performing with his brother, Maurice, and his father.

  Just when I was getting ready to walk over to the Seventy-second Street subway stop, Dellanor told me she was going to get the chance to hear me sing before she left town. “Yes, Delaney, Kyle, and myself will do a show for you at the airport when you leave,” I joked.

  “Whatever, just so I get to hear that lovely voice Delaney always tells me about,” Dellanor said.

  On the subway headed to the Virginia Theater, I thought about the wonderful relationship Delaney and her mom had and wished that I shared the same type of relationship with my mother. I guess since I had been a daddy’s girl all my life it was a little hard. Not that my mother didn’t love me, I knew she did. It was just at times she didn’t understand my ambition or my dreams. She didn’t understand that I wanted more out of life than being a wife. I often worried about my mother being alone since Daddy’s death, but she had moved into a retirement home in Little Rock and seemed to have a very full social life with all the activities she wrote to me about. My mother didn’t like to talk on the phone that much, but she could write some long letters that bordered on mini-novels.

  I arrived at the theater and Deborah Brown, one of the Hunnies in the cast, gave me a big smile and said, “I heard Renee’s husband is sick and she might not be here.”

  “What? You’re kidding,” I said in a shocked voice.

  “No, girl, that’s what I heard the stage manager say a few minutes ago,” Deborah said.

  Suddenly my palms became moist with sweat. Could this be possible? Was I going to get the opportunity to go on? I started going over the lines and lyrics to the songs in my head. I balled both of my fists and walked around in circles looking upward at the ceiling backstage. Every time the stage door opened, I quickly looked to see who it was and breathed a sigh of relief when it was someone other than Renee.

  I wondered if the director and producers were in the theater. They usually made a point of being there whenever an understudy or standby went on for the first time. I also began to wonder if this was some type of invisible audition for the national tour that was going to be starting in Chicago in about six months. Sometimes producers and directors would set up a performance to see how one performed under real life circumstances. I was so happy I hadn’t yet turned in my two-week notice; I was still waiting to see the final script and the music for To Tell the Truth, never mind the contract.

  Minutes later the stage door opened and in walked Renee; my fast-beating heart suddenly sank.

  “Where’s Reggie?” Renee called out as she walked right past me.

  “He’s in his office,” a familiar voice called out.

  I looked at Deborah and we gave each other a what’s-going-on? look.

  A few minutes later Renee and Reggie emerged from the wings.

  “Nicole,” Reggie said.

  “Yes, Reggie,” I said breathlessly.

  “Renee has a family emergency and I need you to go on. Are you ready?”

  “Of course I’m ready,” I replied.

  I wanted to say, “What do you think, stupid? I’ve been waiting on this chance for months.” Renee came close to me and grabbed my now cold hands.

  “I know you’re going to turn it out, but save something for me,” she said. “I do have a family to support,” she joked.

  “Thanks, Renee. I’ll keep the bed warm,” I said, referring to the hot bedroom scene the character of Anita had with Gregory.

  “Here, I want you to wear these for good luck,” Renee said as she placed a pair of gold hoop earrings in my hands.

  “Oh, Renee, these are beautiful. You’re going to make me cry,” I said, fighting back tears.

  “Don’t do it,” Renee said. “Just go out there and make them forget about me for one night.”

  I gave Renee a hug and glanced over my shoulder, giving Deborah the okay sign. I looked in my purse for change for the phone booth. I needed to call Delaney, Kyle, Pierce, and my agent to let them know that I was going on.

  I made four calls and got three answering machines and one answering service. That brought down my adrenaline for a moment. I redialed Delaney’s number and she answered, telling me they already had tickets and promising that she would keep trying to reach Kyle. Again I became excited.

  I said a silent prayer, praying for guidance on stage this evening, and that my friends, fiancé, and agent would get the chance to see me tonight. I smiled to myself when I thought about Dellanor and her cards and wondered if she had anything to do with this change of events. Maybe she put some kind of bad luck root on Renee’s husband, but that was a Southern thing and Dellanor was not Southern by any stretch of the imagination.

  If I wasn’t already nervous enough, my first appearance on stage was not until the end of the first act, which was different for a leading female role. The part of Anita was the fiery role of the girlfriend of Jelly Roll Morton. She was a jazz singer and a very strong-willed lady who helped Jelly to face the prejudices that he felt about his own race. Jelly Roll Morton was a Creole black, who, in the time period in which the musical takes place, was considered a higher-class citizen than regular black folks. It was not much different from the way some light-skinned blacks still treat their own kind today. I saw the class system at work day after day in the theater and recording industry. I mean what else could explain Paula Abdul’s selling more records than Jennifer Holliday? Jennifer would blow that girl off the stage when it came to real singing. The musical, in many ways, was a frightening history lesson for black people of all different hues.

  I thought it was funny that both of the roles that I might end up choosing between were characters named Anita and both were based on real-life people. Both were dark-skinned women, which made me feel even better, who’d stood up for their beliefs.

  Right before the curtain went up, several cast members came by and grabbed my hands and wished me good luck, many telling me to “knock ’em dead.”

  After changing into my first costume, a flimsy slip-like dress, I was coming out of Renee’s dressing room when I bumped into Reggie.

  “You nervous?” Reggie asked, and flashed a hundred-watt smile.

  “Just a little bit,” I said.

  “Don’t worry, you’ll do just fine. If you get lost just take a deep breath,” Reggie instructed.

  “Thanks, Reggie. I’ll do that.”

  “I’ll see you in the big time,” Reggie said as he gave me a small kiss on the cheek.

  As I listened to the orchestra warm up, I went over my lines in my head. I wasn’t so much worried about my first song as I was my first lines. Mess up on the first lines and it could be a long night. I kept pacing behind stage, going over my first lines. I hadn’t been this nervous on my own opening night! But that had been different since I’d known I was going on and I’d felt at home on stage with a cast I had been with from workshop to opening night. Although I felt like a part of this cast it was different; I had never performed with them and even my rehearsals were lone affairs with the director. I thought back to my sophomore year in high school the one year I made alternate majorette instead of the regular squad. Even though I practiced with the squad every day, I’d felt left out when I didn’t have the chance to perform at halftime. My senior year when I made captain of the squad I went out of my way to make the alternate feel like a part of the squad, even convincing the rest of the squad to allow her to per
form during Homecoming.

  I purposely went back to the dressing room right before the curtain went up to avoid hearing the moaning sound that usually accompanied the announcement that a standby was going on. But I couldn’t sit down so I went back downstairs. I was standing near the corner of the stage and from the sound of the applause when Gregory made his entrance I could tell that we had another full house and this was one that wasn’t sitting on its hands. I was about fifteen minutes away from showdown and I went back up to the dressing room one more time to make sure that my costume and wig fit right. Renee’s tiny dressing room looked more like the vanity section of a large bathroom with everything done in light pink and green. Magazine articles and clippings of reviews were pasted on the edge of her mirror. Pictures of her husband and kids held the center stage of her dressing table. I picked up the picture in a gold frame and looked at the blue-eyed blond man and two beautiful copper-colored little girls. They looked like twins. It was the first time I realized Renee’s husband was white. I don’t know why this surprised me, but Renee hadn’t struck me as the type of girl who would be married to a white man. I mean she struck me as a real sistah. Whatever that meant. But what type of black woman would be married to a white man? Was there a type? What did that make me? I wasn’t married to a white man but I was pretty close. Was I not a real sistah? Were my thoughts racist?

  My heart was racing as I took my first steps toward the stage of the Virginia Theater. The heat of the stage lights swept my face. I was concentrating on the last word to leave Gregory’s mouth and the first one to leave mine. For a brief second I drew a blank until I looked into Gregory’s eyes and then at his lips as he was beginning to mouth my first word, but before he formed his lips, the words rushed from my mouth and I began to smile inside.

  The rest of my performance went without a hitch. I hit all my marks and I could feel the prolonged applause after “Play the Music for Me,” my big number in scene six of the first act. The audience gave freely with their applause and I gave them back everything I had. It felt fantastic to be on the stage doing what I loved doing. I became so immersed in the role of Anita, that I wanted the night to last forever.

  I had watched Renee countless nights from behind the curtains and I wanted to bring my own to the role. I held certain notes a little longer than she did and I worked the crowd and Gregory. I could tell from the glint in his eyes that he was pleased with my performance. This was confirmed when at the end, he led the applause when I took my bow.

  After the show, the first person I saw was Reggie. He came running to me, grabbed both of my arms, and then hugged me tightly.

  “Wonderful, just wonderful, Nicole! I’ve never seen Anita played so beautifully. Just fabulous,” said Reggie. “I’m going to make sure you get to go on that stage more often,” he added.

  “Thank you,” I said, beginning to be overcome with emotion as I saw Delaney and her mom walk up behind Reggie with roses in their hands.

  “Nicole, girlfriend. You go, girl! You were fierce! Just wonderful,” Delaney said as she hugged me tightly.

  “See I told you,” Dellanor said. “I knew I was going to get to hear that wonderful voice. You were beautiful, baby.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Morris, I mean Dellanor. I’m just glad it’s over.”

  “I tried to reach Kyle but I kept getting his answering machine,” Delaney said.

  “Where is he?” I asked.

  “I don’t have a clue,” Delaney said.

  “Should we give him a call now?”

  “You go meet your fans. I’ll give him a call and let him know where we’re going to be,” Delaney said.

  Just as I was getting ready to accept congratulations from members of the cast, I saw Pierce standing near the door with a bouquet of white roses.

  “I’m so glad you got my message,” I said as I gave Pierce a kiss on his lips.

  “I have some people awfully mad at me,” Pierce said, “but I wouldn’t have missed this for the world. You were great!”

  “Thank you,” I said. “Let me go change. Why don’t I meet you at the Whiskey in about twenty minutes with Delaney and Dellanor?”

  “I’ve got a better idea,” Pierce said with a mischievous look in his eyes. “Why don’t I send a car for you at the bar in about two hours and you come to my house so that we can have a private celebration?”

  “Oh, Pierce, that sounds great, but I warn you I’m tired,” I said.

  “I promise to let you get some rest,” Pierce said.

  “Well, okay,” I agreed reluctantly.

  “Great. Let me go and say hello to Delaney and her mother,” Pierce said as he gave me another kiss and walked toward Delaney and Dellanor, who were holding court with Gregory and some other members of the cast.

  I went up the stairs to Renee’s dressing room, stopping almost every step of the way to accept the compliments of the many cast members. I felt so great. It had been a long time since I’d experienced the high I was currently on.

  I looked in my purse and pulled out my own makeup and did my face all over. The wig had caused my hair to frizz on the ends. I would make an appointment first thing in the morning to get it fixed. Maybe I would make an appointment at an all-day spa and get a facial and massage too. I would have a little extra in my paycheck for this performance and I deserved it.

  After I’d placed another call to Kyle’s answering machine, Delaney, Dellanor, and I walked four blocks down Eighth Avenue to the bar located in the Paramount Hotel. It was packed with people carrying Playbills from various shows. We spotted a table of people leaving and dashed to get it.

  “Let’s order champagne,” Dellanor said. “I’m buying.”

  The three of us went through a bottle of Moët in about twenty minutes and the champagne began making me light-headed. I remembered agreeing to go to Pierce’s later that evening and thought about calling him and offering a rain check but I wanted to see him. He would be honest about my performance.

  It was so much fun just sitting and relaxing with Delaney and her mother. Like three good girlfriends out on the town for an evening. I had never enjoyed such an evening with my own mother. First, my mother didn’t drink and second, she wouldn’t be caught dead in a place filled with so many white people. It was during times like these that I wished my mother could become my friend if only for an evening as special as this one. But my mother was from the old school and felt mothers should be mothers and nothing else.

  Dellanor was trying to convince us we should order another bottle when the driver paged me in the bar. When I first heard the page I figured it was Kyle with whom neither Delaney nor I had talked in many days. Delaney said he had mentioned he was really behind on a big project. Good, I thought to myself, maybe that would get him off the wedding dress kick.

  I insisted that Delaney and her mom let the driver drop them at home, but they decided they’d stop somewhere close to Delaney’s apartment and have Mexican coffee. While we were riding uptown, Dellanor commented to Delaney, “See, you need to get you a white man. Look how good he treats Nicole.”

  “Woman, pleeze,” Delaney said as she rolled her eyes at me and then at her mother.

  The elderly doorman at Pierce’s building didn’t bother to call up and announce me.

  “Dr. Gessler is expecting you, Ms. Springer,” he said.

  A sudden wave of sleepiness came over me as I walked into Pierce’s spacious East Side co-op apartment. Pierce greeted me at the door with a glass of champagne … the absolute last thing I needed.

  Pierce was wearing navy blue silk pajamas and his face was relaxed and still mischievous.

  “I don’t need this,” I said as I took the slender flute from Pierce.

  “Yes, you do. You’ve earned it. Nicole, you were great tonight. Diahann Carroll would have been envious,” Pierce said.

  “You think so?”

  “Yes. Let’s go out on the terrace,” Pierce suggested.

  I laid my bag on the bar and followed Pierc
e to the terrace that had a breathtaking view of Manhattan. Millions of different-colored lights of the city sparkled in the night. There was a full moon covering the city and classical music surged from the speakers from within Pierce’s apartment. It sounded as if there was a speaker right under the chair I was sitting in. A single candle on the patio table threw a shadow on the door leading back into Pierce’s apartment.

  “It’s a beautiful night,” I observed.

  “A beautiful morning,” Pierce corrected.

  We sat in silence for a short period of time and then Pierce suggested that I go into his bedroom, that there was something waiting for me there. I walked into Pierce’s bedroom and saw a beautiful pair of wine-colored silk pajamas lying on his large bed, covered with a single red rose and a white linen note card that read, “To my one and only. These are for my eyes only. Love, Pierce.

  The pajamas were exquisite and I couldn’t wait to feel them against my skin. I quickly removed my clothes and slipped into them. I went into Pierce’s vanity area and took a look at my makeup and hair. First thing in the morning, I thought, make that hair appointment.

  The sleepwear felt seductively sleek against my body. I glided back to the patio where Pierce had removed his pajama top to expose an extremely hairy chest.

  “I was getting warm,” he smiled.

  I moved next to him and looked out at the majestic view and enjoyed the cool night air. Suddenly Pierce grabbed my chin, slowly turned it toward his lips, and kissed me softly and then hungrily. Our lips parted and our tongues came into play.