Just As I Am

by E. Lynn Harris

  “Naw, Ma, I stopped and got a sandwich right before I left.”

  “So come on, sit down,” my pops said as he took a seat in his regular chair near the phone table covered with newspapers and magazines. “The Andy Griffith Show” was playing on the television. I remembered that this had been one of my father’s favorite shows. Whenever I walked into my parents’ home it was like walking back into my childhood. A happy time. I took a seat on the deep comfortable sofa close to my father’s chair, laid my car keys on the thick glass-top table, and started to rub my hands nervously. I could have used a drink. I heard my mother rambling around in the kitchen. As I listened to pots and pans rattling, I studied my father’s handsome brown face and noticed that he had put on a little weight. The extra weight hung noticeably around his waist.

  “Do you want a drink?” my father asked.

  “Yeah. No,” I said.

  My father suddenly turned his attention from the television and looked at me.

  “Are you all right, son?”

  “Yes, Pops, but we need to talk.”

  “Fine. Come on, let’s go downstairs to my office. We’ll have some privacy there.”

  “I want Mama in this too,” I said.

  My father gave me a curious look and then called my mother from the kitchen. She walked briskly from the kitchen wiping her hands with the hem of her dress bringing to mind Peaches coming from the kitchen at Kyle’s. The memory of Peaches and Kyle brought a sudden sadness to me. A sadness that must have covered my face because my mother said, “What’s the matter, baby. Something is wrong.”

  “No, Ma, everything will be fine. We just all need to talk.”

  “Is this a kitchen table or dining room table conversation?” my father joked.

  “Family room. Let’s just stay right here,” I said.

  “Fine,” my mother said as she took a seat next to me on the sofa.

  “How is Kirby?” I asked.

  “Kirby is fine. He getting used to school. But what do you need to talk to us about?” my father said.

  “Is this the conversation you called us about?” my mother asked.

  “Yes, Ma.”

  My mother smiled back. How I loved her smile and the powdery clean smell that she always brought into a room in this house full of men. Her big sable brown eyes were soft and shining. Both of my parents gazed at me, waiting for me to speak. A short silence ensued until I finally spoke. I started by telling my parents how much the death of Kyle had affected me in both positive and negative ways. My parents listened intently as I shared with them some of my experiences during Kyle’s demise and how for the first time I was ready to live my life on my own terms.

  “What do you mean on your own terms?” my father asked.

  “Well, Pops, it’s not like I’m talking about major changes. I just want you and Ma to accept me just as I am.”

  “What do you mean, Ray-Ray? We’ve always done that,” my mother said.

  “I know, Ma, but …”

  “But what?” Pops demanded.

  “Well, even though you guys know about my sexuality, we never really talk about it. It’s almost like you’d like to forget about it, but it’s a part of me.”

  “We’ve talked about this, Raymond. What was that talk I had with you in New York about? We love you but do you have to push this stuff in our face?” Pops said.

  “Stuff? Do you think this is stuff? And how do you think I’m pushing it in your face?”

  “Both of you calm down,” my mother said.

  “I’m calm. I just don’t know what he’s talking about. What does he want from us?” my father asked my mother as if I wasn’t there.

  I went on to tell them about Kirby’s comment in New York about Kyle and how I was worried about his attitudes about gay people and maybe if he knew about me then it would help him to be more understanding.

  “But why do you have to tell him now?” Pops asked. “He has enough problems.”

  “When, Pops?”

  My father rubbed his chin and looked toward my mother, who sat quietly on the sofa. When I looked at her she bit her lip and glanced away. A hushed tension dominated the room. I informed my parents that I was seeing a doctor trying to work out some of my own ambivalence about my sexuality. That I might want them to sit in on some therapy sessions in the future and maybe include Kirby. I told them if I was ever going to have a true love in my life I needed to know that I could count on their support, support regardless of whether I ultimately chose a man or a woman. I told them how I was afraid of their reaction if I ever brought a man home as a partner and I shared with my father the jealousy I sometimes felt when I saw him and Jared together. I told him that I sometimes thought he wished Jared was his son and that I was afraid that he loved Kirby more because he was straight. He shook his head in dismay.

  My parents said they had no problem participating with my therapy. Then my father looked at me and said, “How can we deal with this, Ray-Ray, when you haven’t? When you came back home from New York you acted the same way you had all your life.” His voice vibrated with pain and anger. His statement was painfully true.

  “I know, Pops,” I said. “I’m still learning.”

  He nodded sympathetically and his face became relaxed and somewhat friendly. I suddenly felt my mother’s arms around my neck and she pulled me close to her and gently rocked me as if I were a small child. Tears started to stream down my face and I felt my father standing over me.

  “Son, I know you’re in a lot of pain, losing your friend and all. But like your mother and I have always said, you’re our son and we love you. We love you just the way you are.”

  “That’s right, Ray-Ray. You know we love you. But I think we should all talk with Kirby together when he comes home this summer. I don’t want any friction between my boys,” she said.

  “That’s cool, Mom.”

  “Yes, I agree with that. Everything will be fine. We will see this doctor of yours and we’ll figure out how to handle this with Kirby,” my father said.

  I smiled in silent admiration at my pops calmness. His cool confidence controlled the room.

  “Is there anything else?” Pops asked.

  “Not right now,” I said.

  My mother gave me a strong hug and kissed my forehead before she walked into the kitchen. Pops gently tapped my knee and released the mute button. Bernard Shaw’s voice coming from the television was the only sound in the room for about fifteen minutes.

  I finally got up from the sofa, went into the kitchen, and was greeted by my mother’s smile and a thick ham and cheese sandwich.

  “So how are you feeling about all this?” I asked my mother.

  “Just as long as you don’t get that dreadful disease, I’m fine,” she said. She then fixed a sandwich for my father and took it and a cold beer into the family room. When she came back to the kitchen I looked at her and said, “Ma, the dreadful disease is called AIDS. You can say it.”

  “I know. I hope neither one of my sons get AIDS.”

  I silently shook my head in agreement and she then looked at me and said, “Of course, you’re spending the night. I’m going in here and put clean sheets on your bed.”

  I smiled in agreement. It suddenly felt good to be home again.

  Thirty-six

  It’s an experience so wonderful, yet every time it happens to me I wish it would be the last time. Falling in love. A heart longing to love. Learning to separate old fears from a new love. My heart was speaking to me and this time I was listening. I was falling in love with Jared Taylor Stovall and I was pretty certain he was falling in love with me.

  Since that night in Washington, D.C., it became easy, incredibly easy to think of Jared and nothing else. I talked to him at least three times daily and every day I received a card or some little memento from Jared via the mail, FTD, or Federal Express.

  Jared had made several trips to New York and I’d traveled to Atlanta once. Each time he came to New York he checked in
to a hotel even though we spent almost every second together. There was no pressure for sex although it was evident he was interested. So was I. The first time he kissed me, my whole body began to tingle and the more he kissed me the more delightful the sensation became. His kiss was more sexually exciting than any kiss I’d ever experienced with anyone before.

  We spent a lot of time talking and reading out loud passages from books and poems we each loved. The only disagreement we had was over a television show. One week Jared arrived on Thursday and came straight to my apartment. I was watching “A Different World” and Jared took the remote control and turned to “Martin.” I quickly grabbed it back and switched back to “A Different World.” The back and forth went on the entire half-hour and we both missed our favorite show. We started laughing, gave up the contest, and let the remote control slide under the bed.

  Jared came into town one Friday when I was meeting my girlfriend Dyanna Watson at Honeysuckle’s for drinks. She wanted me to meet her fiance and to give me some information on an independent film project she was involved in. I had given. Jared the address of the place that morning before he left Atlanta. I got to the restaurant first. Dyanna and her beau showed up minutes later.

  Dyanna’s fiancé, Basil Henderson, was quite a looker. He was tall and well built with sensuous gray eyes and a melt-your-heart smile. He was a real sweetheart and somewhat of a flirt. Not the sickening kind, just the sweet, make-you-feel-good kinda flirt. The three of us were having a great time. Dyanna was talking about their upcoming wedding and the film project that needed my type once shooting started in New York. Since I was only selecting music for my demo I was looking for something to fill my days.

  Jared showed up with bags in tow. He gave me a quick kiss, greeted Dyanna with a light peck, but when he and Basil were introduced the chill was unmistakable. Jared looked faintly surprised. Something was going on and the first thing that came to my mind was how Raymond reacted to certain men. Oh no, I thought, this couldn’t be happening again. I was barely listening to Dyanna I was so busy watching the non-conversation going on between Basil and Jared. While Dyanna and I talked Jared and Basil barely spoke. When they did it was in monosyllables and half-finished sentences that made no sense. When they weren’t talking they were giving each other condescending looks and rolling eyes the way I’ve seen women do to each other. I had never seen Jared act like this and I couldn’t wait to get him out of the club to find out what was going on. Before I could think of an excuse to leave, Basil went to the men’s room and when he came back his beeper went off. He excused himself and when he returned he instructed Dyanna it was time to leave.

  Dyanna and I agreed to get together later the next week. The minute they left the club I turned to Jared and asked, “What was that about?”

  “How well do you know Dyanna?”

  “Not that well. We met on a couple of auditions.”

  “So that’s the first time I guess you’ve met him?”

  “Who, Basil? Yes, but I understand he’s some big-time football player.”

  “He is.”

  “Do you know him, Jared? You were awfully cold.”

  “I don’t really know him. He’s a friend of Ray’s. At least he used to be.”

  “What kind of friend?” I asked as I noticed the concern on Jared’s face.

  “Well, I don’t know the full extent, but I get the impression from Ray that it was more than friendship,” Jared said.

  “You mean he’s gay?”

  “I think so. Ray didn’t go into a lot of detail. But I think there was something there.”

  “Is that the guy Ray was going to see in Jersey City?”

  “I think that’s where he lives. He was in Atlanta for a while also.”

  “I knew there was something going on. I was worried for a moment.”

  “Worried about what?”

  “I was afraid my bubble was getting ready to burst. Kyle always warned me to watch for tension between men. He said straight men didn’t act like women do.”

  “So you’re saying we were acting like women. Hold up. I just don’t like him because he’s always been an asshole around me and I think he’s trying to dog Ray.”

  “Well, he is fine. How do you know he’s dogging Ray?”

  “Fine? What? Lady, don’t start tripping. I just think he’s a dog,” Jared said as he pretended to be jealous.

  “You think I should tell Dyanna what you said?”

  “Maybe she already knows.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Well, it doesn’t look to me like you’re that close,” Jared observed. “Maybe you should stay out of it.”

  I thought about what Jared said and then I tried to put myself in Dyanna’s place. Matter of fact, a few years ago I was in her position. Would I have wanted my friends to tell me? I knew Candance would have, but what about a casual friend? Maybe she would think I was trying to take her man or something. Plus, Jared might have had a point—maybe Dyanna already knew—or maybe he was simply mistaken about Basil.

  I would talk it over with Delaney and see what she thought before I made a decision. I was becoming a little bit less concerned about Jared’s involvement in the Basil-Dyanna situation when he didn’t appear preoccupied with it during the rest of the weekend. I knew he was concerned about Raymond and even Dyanna, but I didn’t want to compete with either of them for Jared’s attention. That would have not been a good sign; instead he lavished all his attention on me.

  “I think you should stay out of it, Nicole.”

  “Do you really think so? She’s going to marry this guy in a couple of months.”

  “Then that’s her business. What are you becoming, the heterosexual liaison for Queer Nation?”

  “What’s Queer Nation?”

  “A gay group that takes it upon themselves to tell the world who’s gay and whose not.”

  “You think that’s what I’m doing?”

  “First of all, it ain’t your business. And this guy sounds like he’s big and powerful. He just might kick your natural ass for running your mouth.”

  “But what about Dyanna?”

  “What about her? I’m telling you, Nicole, she may already know. She could be a lesbian and it’s a cover marriage.”

  “A cover marriage? What’s that?”

  “Bitch, I swear. What do you know? Are we turning back into a mindless Barbie doll?”

  “Dyanna’s not gay,” I defended.

  “How do you know?”

  “You’ve seen her; she’s beautiful.”

  “And?”

  “Well, she doesn’t look or act gay.”

  “Chile, just because she ain’t asked you to let her eat your pussy don’t mean she can’t be gay.”

  “But what if she isn’t? Doesn’t she have a right to know that the man she’s marrying is bisexual or gay?”

  “The truth always comes out in the end. But you don’t have to be the truth patrol.”

  “Well, I guess …”

  There was a long pause and then Delaney’s voice changed to a more serious tone.

  “Nicole, what are you doing?”

  “Talking to you.”

  “I mean this evening.”

  “Just looking at some music. Why?”

  “I have something I need to talk to you about. I’ve been meaning to do it for some time and I guess there’s no better time than now,” Delaney said.

  “Well, talk.”

  “No, I don’t want to say what I have to say over the phone. I think I need to do this in person.”

  “This sounds serious.”

  “Well, that will depend on how you take it.”

  “Don’t do this to me, Delaney. Now you have me all nervous.”

  “Don’t be nervous. I’ll be over there in an hour.”

  Delaney hung up and I stood in the kitchen looking at the phone. What did she want to talk with me about?

  I was listening to a Kathleen Battle CD when my doorman buzzed m
e and told me Delaney was on her way upstairs.

  When I opened the door, Delaney forced a smile but I could see the concern on her face. She was wearing a bulky red sweater and a short black skirt. Her hair was in a ponytail that was wrapped up like a wreath. I looked at Delaney’s stomach. Maybe she was pregnant.

  “Hey, girl. You want some wine?”

  “What kind?”

  “I think it’s Chablis.”

  “Sure that would be nice,” Delaney said as she went in and sat on the sofa.

  “I love those boots,” I said as I admired Delaney’s shining black army boots.

  “Thanks, girl.”

  “Do you want me to change the music?” I yelled from the kitchen as I searched for wineglasses.

  “Oh no, I love this music. It’s very appropriate.”

  “It is?”

  I found the glasses, poured the wine, and placed the glasses on a tray. I looked in the icebox and pulled out some dip. I smelled it to see if it was still good as I reached in the cabinet and took out some chips. I poured them into a bowl, brought them into the living room, and sat them between Delaney and myself. Delaney’s face looked pensive.

  “So what’s the big news?” I said casually.

  “Well,” Delaney started. “You know I love you, Nicole, and how much I treasure your friendship.”

  “Yes, I know that, Delaney. What’s the matter?”

  “Well, I would have told you sooner but I didn’t know how you would take it.”

  “Delaney, you didn’t run into that dreadful guy, did you? He’s not threatening you, is he?”

  “No, it’s not that. Please let me finish!” Delaney said.

  “Okay, I’m sorry.”

  “I just hope you’ll be my friend after I tell you this and if you aren’t I will understand.”

  I didn’t say a word. I just looked into Delaney’s eyes searching for the cause of the pain in them. Tears came into her eyes and she blinked hard to force them back.

  “Nicole, I’m gay. I’ve been gay all my life. I know I should have told you but I didn’t think you could handle it.”

  I was flabbergasted. Delaney went on to reveal she and Jody were more than friends. Jody was her lover and that was why she was moving to San Diego. She said she wasn’t coming on to me but she really loved me as a friend. My friendship was important to her. I wanted to tell Delaney every thing was all right, that I was still her friend and I understood, but the avalanche of words poured out of her so uncontrollably that it would have been cruel to stop her. When she finally stopped talking, her eyes filled with tears, and I gently pulled her close to me and patted her back. “Is that it?” I asked.