Khalil thanked her, and without a second thought or glance at Tyrin, he escorted Darion out of the office and immediately followed the necessary steps needed to find out the fate of his health.
TWELVE
Khalil entered the house around three o’clock, sat on the couch, and stared at the blank television screen. Tosha was at his feet unnoticed and tried her best to comfort him. She sensed that something was wrong but couldn’t quite put her paw on it. She looked up at her master and noticed that his eyes were puffy. Dried tears stained his cheeks, and there was no glow on his usually vibrant skin. What caught her eye most was the white cotton swab and gauze tape around his inner arm. She lowered her head back on the carpet and just waited to hear if anything was going to be said about his newfound look.
As he sat there trying to sort through all that had transpired within the past couple of hours he began to chuckle in disbelief. He didn’t quite know which situation should be tackled first. He was combating thoughts of setting all of Tyrin’s things on fire, or at least those that he cherished most.
He entertained the idea of cleaning out the bank account, moving to another state, and starting over. Maybe it would be best to act as though all was well and with every meal he prepared, put crushed glass in his food. If the virus didn’t kill him, the shards of broken glass would definitely do the trick. All of those were great for a Lifetime movie, but he knew that he had to live in reality. HIV positive or not he had no desire to spend his life in prison.
He leaned over, picked up the phone and dialed the answering service, “You have five new messages. First message. Hey you guys this is Lauren, I was just calling to see if you got the results back from the doctor and if all went well. Call and let me know if I need to go to Gap kids and pick up an outfit for my new nephew. Love ya’ll. Second message. What’s up, this is Spencer. Listen, I need to know if you will be free this Saturday to help me with a wedding I have to do. I forgot about the shit and the maid of honor just called and re-confirmed with me. Anyway, let me know. Oh by the way, the wedding is in San Diego. Oh shit, I almost forgot to tell you that Kerry wants us all to go out to dinner tonight before Andre heads home, so don’t make plans. We don’t know where yet, but wherever it is, you and Tyrin had better be there. OK. That’s all. He should be calling you sometime today. And why is your damn cell phone off, bitch? Third message. What up T? This is Craig. Holla at cha boy ASAP, I need to know if you still want me and Koya to swing through tonight for dinner. In case you forgot, you promised to cook us dinner since we got that billboard layout finished and turned in on time. I should be asking Khalil because he’s the one that’s going to be cooking anyway. So get back at me. By the way, answer your fucking cell phone, I know it’s on, motherfucker. Fourth message. Big brothers. This is Kerry. Andre is leaving tonight on a redeye, so we were wondering if you guys wanted to meet up for dinner tonight. We should be here most of the day, so just hit me back and let me know. Talk to you later. Fifth Message. Khalil. If you are there pick up the phone. Please. I want to explain what happened. I won’t come home until you call me. I know you need time alone. Baby, please take the time out to listen to me, we can get through this, I know we can. I love you. My phone is on and I am only answering for you. Please call me. I need you right now. Boo, I’m scared too. Call me. Just let me know that you made it home safely. I love you.”
He placed the phone back on the receiver and pondering the thought of returning the last call, but anger got the best of him. In one hasty move he jumped up from the couch and stormed into the kitchen. He dug through the deep freezer and pulled out bags of jumbo tiger prawns, lump crabmeat, packs of chicken wings and spicy chicken links. He threw them into the sink to defrost, and proceeded to the next station.
Opening the cupboards, he snatched out boxes of breadcrumbs, bags of flour, rice, cornmeal, macaroni noodles, and a multitude of seasonings. From the refrigerator he retrieved fresh vegetables, eggs, butter, celery, onions, milk, sour cream, and assorted cheeses. He turned on the oven to allow it to pre-heat and poured oil into the built in deep fryer. While grating cheese for the macaroni he picked up the phone and began to dial one-by-one the people that were trying to set up plans with them for the evening. He confirmed every invite with a voice that sounded like all was well in Malibu and the night was going to be one of food, fun, and friendship.
The last number he dialed was answered by a somber voice on the other end, “Baby, are you alright?” He looked at the phone like he had just been asked the dumbest question ever recited, and nonchalantly responded, “There’s a dinner party scheduled here tonight. I suggest you be here because your family, Craig that is, is showing up.”
“What? What do you mean?”
“I really don’t have time for small talk. I’m busy cooking. You have four hours to get here.”
“K. Wait a minute, what’s going on? Why didn’t you cancel dinner with them? With all that has happened, don’t you think we need time to sit and talk?”
“We? There ain’t no more we, Tyrin,” he said, as he calmly ran cold water over the meat to speed up the defrosting process.
“Khalil?”
“What!” He screamed into the receiver.
“Can you at least come and get me. Boo, I looked for you all over the hospital and even searched the parking lot but I couldn’t find you. I don’t know what to do. I have been sitting in Starbucks for almost three hours waiting for you to call. And I just…” Tyrin whined.
Khalil felt his blood begin to boil, and without hesitation blurted out, “Call the nigga you fucked! Maybe he will give you a motherfucking ride here!” He pushed the end call button on the phone and began to pace the kitchen floor in an effort to calm himself back down. As he leaned on the counter shaking and restraining the tears that wanted to fall, he found solace in the open cookbook and commenced to read a recipe for a butter rum pound cake.Tyrin sat outside of the trendy coffee shop and watched the latte drinkers go in and out of the establishment. He closed his eyes and tried to blot out what was taking place; hoping that when he opened them again today would have been a bad dream. He thought of how one mistake has hurt the person he loves, and aided in the pain and suffering of a family he wanted so badly to get to know. He sat afraid to open his eyes, knowing that when he did he would be forced to deal with the grim realities that lay ahead of him.
He dropped his head on the aluminum table and for the first time in years, he cried. He wept tears of pain, tears of regret, and more than anything else, tears of fear. He knew that this one thing was something he could never change. Similar to the loss of his family so many years ago, this pain was eating at his heart and he had no idea how to make it stop.
*****
It was now seven o’clock and Khalil was busy putting the finishing touches on his evening feast. He had been cooking and taking shots of Belvedere for the past three hours, and was ready for a long shower. He called Spencer to get an idea of his location and discovered that he and Lea were only fifteen minutes away. While waiting for them to arrive he began to put the settings on the dining room table. Like clockwork, the two of them arrived and with a bottle of Merlot and enough energy to light up Las Vegas.
“Hey you, how have you been? I have been thinking about you all day. I was so glad when you called and invited me to dinner.” Lea said, while giving him an embrace
“I’m cool. It’s good to see you too. I meant to tell you that I’m digging the new earthy look. Where did you get the necklace and earrings?” Khalil asked, as he played with the shells that dangled around her neck.
“My sister. You know she is trying to start her own business. She makes body oils and other products for the hair as well. This was just something she made on the spur of the moment and I told her I loved it, so she gave it to me,” she replied.
“Don’t believe it. She got that on the corner of Crenshaw and Slauson from a Mexican that claims he went to Africa.” Spencer said as he walked past both of them and into the house
.
“Shut up stupid. Come on in and make yourself at home. I need to run upstairs and take a quick shower. I have been in that hot ass kitchen and am sweating like a runaway slave.” he said as he led her through the foyer and into the living room.
“Go ahead, and get yourself together. We know where everything is.” Spencer said.
“Don’t go into the kitchen, I want the dinner to be a surprise. But you can go over to the bar and make yourselves a drink.” Khalil said. “Oh and can you lock Tosha in the guest room downstairs for me?”
“Yeah, whatever. Dinner smells off the hook. What did you cook?” Spencer asked.
“Did you hear the word surprise? You’re a dumb ass aren’t you?” Lea said.
“You got a ride home? No. So I suggest you watch who you call a dumb ass.”
“Spencer the way you plan on drinking tonight I highly doubt that you will be in any position to try and fight a sober black woman that needs to get home to her child. I will take your keys and leave you here.” Lea said, as she assumed a standoff position in front of him.
“You know, you will never get a man if you don’t have any teeth. Fuck with my keys if you want to and they will be calling you Lea Spinks.” He replied while holding his fist up in the air.
Khalil excused himself from the two arguing friends and walked toward the stairs. “Where’s Tyrin?” Spencer asked. “On his way home” he said as he headed upstairs. How true that was he didn’t know, but it was the right thing to say at the time.
Upstairs in the bathroom, he lit a few candles to set a calming effect, ran a hot shower, and tried to wash the feelings of frustration and anxiety off before the rest of his guests arrived. He stepped out of the shower and into the dimly lit bedroom only to be stopped dead in his tracks by Tyrin who was sitting on the edge of the bed holding a bouquet of red roses.
“You need to take a shower and get yourself together.”
“Can we talk?”
“There’s nothing really to talk about.”
“I need you to hear what I have to say. I know you are upset and I know that this gathering is your way of handling it, but unless we discuss what is going on it’s only going to get worse,” Tyrin pleaded.
“How can it get worse? Tell me that.” He asked with his towel around his waist and arms folded.
“I don’t know,” He mumbled.
“Exactly. Anyway, there are people here and now is not the time.”
“I don’t care about them. All I care about is you,” Tyrin softly said.
“Whatever.” Khalil began to dry his body with the towel and was extremely annoyed by the fact that Tyrin was in the room with him. In his mind Tyrin had lost the rights and privilege to view his unclothed frame; so he hurriedly put on a pair of boxers, linen drawstring pants, and a ribbed t-shirt before walking out of the room and cutting off the lights like no one else was in there. “I love you Khalil,” Tyrin said in an effort to get Khalil to thaw out his now iced heart. He stopped dead in his tracks and looked over his shoulder into the darkness and said, “If you ever say that to me again, I swear I will bash in your motherfucking skull.”
He walked downstairs and heard the voice of Kerrion asking what was for dinner, and what the hell was taking so long. He paused and took a deep breath before continuing his decent into the circle of unknowing people. Before he entered the space of the house that was being occupied by his three closest friends, he made sure that his face showed no sign of distress. He knew that if anybody could read his body language it would be these three, so he tried his hardest to put on a façade of strength that would rival the most serious poker player.
The living room now looked and felt like it was the lounge area of a restaurant where people waited to be seated. Everyone had a drink in hand, thanks to Spencer, and they also managed to put some music on. Rachelle Ferrell filled the air with a voice that was both melodic and tranquil. Her gentle soprano not only added a feeling of serenity to the room, but as she exercised her vocal abilities and displayed various techniques of running up and down the musical scales, it reminded all of them of the many concerts of hers they had all attended together. “Hey you two. I’m glad you made it,” he said to Kerrion and Andre.
“Please, when I heard you say you were cooking, I cancelled the thought of every restaurant I had in mind.” Kerrion said.
“Hey Khalil, how are you?” Andre extended his hand for a shake.
“I’m fine. I guess you couldn’t get enough of this fool so you decided to stick around for another day,” He bypassed the shake and gave an embrace.
“Yeah. And I wanted to get another glimpse of this house. I brought my camera this time because I’m going to need proof that I was really in something like this.” he replied with a laugh.
“Be my guest. Shoot away.” he said.
“When are we going to eat?” Spencer asked.
“You have no patience. We need to wait for Craig and Koya to get here. Just consider this cocktail hour.” Khalil said.
“Uhmm, Khalil.” Kerry said.
“Yeah, what’s up?” he asked.
“Why was Tyrin getting out of a cab when we got here? Which car is in the shop, and why didn’t you get a loaner?” They all stood and waited for an answer, and as Khalil stood there looking at them, he came up with a lie in record time. “Neither car is in the shop. We both went into the city today, but there was some unfinished business he needed to take care of, so he sent me back home to start cooking. ”
“Oh, OK. I was just wondering.” Kerrion gave an unbelieving look but respected the story.
“I’m going to go and start the rice.” In the kitchen he hurriedly poured the rice into the cooker and began to move the prepared food from the pots, to wonderful serving platters and tourines. As he scurried throughout the kitchen he felt someone looking at him, but in his haste to make sure that everything was perfect he didn’t pause to acknowledge the person watching.
“What happened?” Spencer asked.
“What do you mean?” He responded while he transferred the crispy batter fried chicken from a holding pan bottomed with oil soaked paper towels, to a nice serving tray.
“Don’t play with me Khalil. I know some shit has gone down between you and Tyrin. Why else would he walk into this house with a dozen roses and give us all a half-assed hello,” Spencer sipped on his drink and waited for his friend to open up to him.
“Nothing is wrong Spencer. He just felt like bringing me flowers, is that a crime?” he said with a weak smile.
“Then why is your voice cracking?”
Khalil stopped what he was doing and caught the streaming tear with the back of his hand. He looked at Spencer, who was leaning against the doorway awaiting an explanation, and walked over and gave him a hug. He needed a hug more than anything right now and he was glad that he had a friend that knew him like a book. Spencer embraced him and didn’t try to pry anything out, he simply allowed himself to be the base of support that Khalil obviously needed at this time.
The two held each other for what seemed like hours before the sound of the doorbell disturbed their moment. As they backed away from each other, Khalil still couldn’t make eye contact. He knew that any sign of sympathy or pity would push him over the cliff, and right now he had to be strong.
“It’s going to be alright. I know it will,” he said to Spencer. “Now go back into the living room and entertain Craig. Maybe you can make him a Long Island that would cause him to sleep with you,” he joked.
“I’m here for you man, whatever it is. You do know that don’t you?” he asked.
“I’ve always known that. Now go shake your shimmy.”
The eight of them sat at the dinner table and enjoyed a meal of fried chicken, crab cakes, shrimp and sausage etouffee, macaroni and cheese, fried cabbage, sautéed squash and homemade drop biscuits. The conversation was joyous and comical, thanks to the storytelling of Spencer. Khalil made sure that there was enough food for everyone to have three he
lpings if they wanted and Spencer kept everyone’s glass filled with the drink of their choice.
Tyrin sat at the head of the table and tried not to let his emotions be seen, but everyone, especially Craig and Spencer noticed that something was on his mind. Andre went on and on about how appreciative he was to everybody for making him feel so welcome, and Kerrion actually seemed to be warming up to him.
Lea and Koya sat across from each other comparing dating horror stories. They expressed how hard it was to find a good man, and Spencer added insult to injury when he told them that maybe they needed to stop going to dinner parties with groups of homosexuals and try a heterosexual venue.
“You outdid yourself this time K,” Craig said as he piled more chicken wings onto his plate.
“Thanks.”
“No for real fool, I ain’t playing,” he expressed again, his liquor beginning to kick in.
“I said thanks, Craig.” Khalil responded somewhat annoyed.
“And I’ve had enough of this silence. What the hell is wrong with you?” Craig asked Tyrin.
“I’m cool man, just watching you enjoy your dinner.” he replied.
“I wish I could find me a bitch, excuse me, a nice young lady that could cook like you K. I would probably marry her ass.” he said with a mouth filled with food.“Is that right?” Khalil said as he lazily picked at his macaroni with his fork.
“You damn right. I tell Tyrin all the time how lucky he is. I mean I still don’t get the gay thing, but you take good care of my boy and I appreciate that. You kind of picked up where I left off. Don’t fuck up Tyrin, I’m telling you.”
Tyrin looked up at Craig and wanted to blurt out “shut up”, because he knew that he was going into an area that unknown to him was very sensitive at this moment. He glanced at Khalil who had stopped playing with his food and was now sitting totally still. He wanted to reach out and grab him but he knew that the odds were not in his favor that he would get a positive reaction.
The End of the Rainbow Page 15