As long as Patrick was in control, we were fine. He had to be the one making the decisionin our relationship. He decided when it ended and even when it would begin again. And there I was, ready to try again when that decision was made. It simply wasn’t easy breaking up with him. I didn’t love anyone else. Then I grew tired of the roller coaster ride that being with Patrick had become. I realized the madness and decided to stop it.
I didn’t know what I was going to say, but I knew when it was all said, I would no longer be a part of Patrick’s twisted reality. The life he lived, the life that didn’t involve me, wasn’t going to end. I held on because Ihad convinced myself otherwise.
There was nothing special or unusual about meeting Patrick. He was a nice guy who said all the right things, and I was naïve enough to believe almost everything I heard. Patrick believed he could have his cake and eat it, too, and for a long time, he did. When the truth was staring me in my face, I closed my eyes and hoped it would go away.
I questioned some of the things Patrick did. Some of the lies he told I didn’t realize were lies until it was too late.Was it really that difficult to tell the truth? I often thought. I believed anything Patrick said, that was the ugly truth. I didn’t have any reason not to trust him. So often I found myself giving him the benefit of the doubt, even against my better judgment.
I would be lying if I didn’t say Iwas smitten by Patrick when we first met. His charming personality hid his flaws from me andthe rest of the world. For a long time, I actually believed Patrick was a man who could do no wrongnot that I thought such a man existed. Marvin must have seen right through Patrick’s Maybelene exterior.
I introduced Patrick to my family about a month after we met, which was probably a little too soon, but I had so much confidence in what would become of us, I wanted to share him with those I loved. Ibelieved Patrick would charm my family to death, and for the most part, he did, with the exception of MarvinDeGregory. Since nothing or no one is ever perfect enough in my father’s eyes, his opinion about Patrick meant little, if anything at all, to me.
Patrick lived in a two bedroom condo on Whitewood Village Drive. His roommate, Jacoby, was a beautiful dark skinned fellow with strong African features. Jacoby had a quiet demeanor, a man of few words who kept himself confined to the upstairs portion of the house whenever I would visit. When I asked if Jacoby acted that way with everyone, Patrick laughed, and then responded, “Only if he likes you.”
I thought it was weird, but I kept my thoughts to myself. I didn’t know it at the time, but that was Patrick’s first attempt to deter me from figuring out the web of lies he weaved so masterfully. Well, damn it, it worked.
The roommate fairytale that Patrick concocted kept me at bay for quite some time. To ease any discomfort Jacoby might have felt in his own house, I stopped visiting Patrick there. My house became our regular meeting place. There were so many things about their interaction that struck me as odd. Patrick had certain rules that, even after lengthy explanations about why those rules existed, didn’t make sense. The fool that love had turned me into believed every word that rolled from Patrick’s venomous tongue, and falling in love wasn’t even my intention.
Mornings never caught Patrick in bed with me. Even after a night of having the kind of sex that left us hot, sweaty, breathless and yearning for more, Patrick would jump up, quickly shower as if he were trying to conserve water, give me a hurried see-you-later kiss, and he was gone, leaving behind nothing but a trace of his Dolce and Gabbana cologne, which always left me wanting him even more. I was left on the other side of the door trying to figure out why our nights always ended like that. The reasons were more than crystal clear; yet, even those I chose to ignore.
It never bothered me enough to confront Patrick. What was I worried about losing? Months, a year passed, and Patrick’s behavior never changed. I allowed him to treat me as he did, and he sat back and pretended that his half-hearted presence filled some void or provided some happiness I couldn’t find in myself or in someone else.
I wasn’t looking to hear from Patrick when I did. After had I left the previous night, he made it clear how busy his schedule was going to be. I was surprised when my phone rang and Patrick’s picture appeared on the display screen. His phone call had an urgency I had never heard in his voice before.
“Baby, what are you doing?”
Up until that moment, Patrick had never called me anything but the name my parents had given him, or some abbreviation of it. Before responding, I held the phone away from my ear, looked at the picture, name, and number displayed on the screen, and made sure I recognized the man on the other end.
“Patrick. Hey. I’m having dinner with Deidre and the kids. Is everything okay?”
“It’s Jacoby.”
His response was draped in pity.
“Ok. What about Jacoby?”
I excused myself from the table and continued my conversation in the kitchen. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to be worried. If something had happened to Jacoby, how was I supposed to react? Jacoby and I had barely exchanged two words to each other, but whatever has happened, I needed to be there for Patrick. When Patrick didn’t respond, I called his name to get his attention.
“Patrick, what’s wrong with Jacoby?” I asked again, louder.
“Listen. Can you come over?”
Patrick didn’t have to ask twice. I grabbed my car keys from the countertop and returned to the dining area.
“Deidre,” I said, heading towards the door.“I have to go.”
“Dexter,wait,” Deidre yelled out. “Is everything okay?”
“That was Patrick. Something happened to Jacoby…I guess. He didn’t go into details.”
“Go ahead. Call me later.”
“I will. Thanks for dinner.”
“Make sure you call me,” Deidre shouted just before I closed the door behind me.
On my way to Patrick’s house, many things went through my mind. Patrick had given me so little information that it left me thinking the worst. When I arrived at the house, all the lights were on, and the door was wide open. I stepped inside and was surprised by what I saw. Patrick was sitting on the only piece of furniture that had been left behind, a stepping stool, with his eyes red, as if he had been crying all day.
“Have you been robbed?” I asked, a dumb question since there weren’t any police cars outside. I just didn’t know what else to say.
“Jacoby’s gone.”
Patrick spoke without looking up. He sat with his hands clasped in front of him. His head hung gazing at the floor. I stood looking at him as tears followed his gaze and fell into the same spot as the tears before.
“Where did he go?”
I stood behind him with my hands in both pants pockets. I looked from one side to the next, still in disbelief.
“He left. He packed everything and left. He left this,” Patrick said, handing me an envelope and a note stained with his tears.
It read: I sat around and watched so many things happen, believing I couldn’t do anything about it. I waited, believing the time that I had invested in us, in you, was worth holding on just a little bit longer. I lied to myself night after night, making excuses for you, even when the excuses I made were senseless. Should I stay or should I go were questions that, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t come up with the answers. Well, I was lying in bed and one day it all became clear. Everything I’ve done has been done for you. Well, this I have to do for me. I’m sorry I had to leave like this, but I have had enough. I love you.
“Is there something you need to tell me?” I asked, looking back and forth between Patrick and the note, as if I hadn’t just read everything I needed to know.
Patrick was still sitting on the stool. He looked disgraced and disgusted.
“What are you talking about?” Patrick asked, as if he wanted me to hold his hand through the conversation and spoon-feed him the words
needed for his explanation.
�
��Come on, man. Why the fuck couldn’t I see it? You could have told me there was more to your relationship with Jacoby than him being just your roommate. The entire time…the entire time,” I repeated, “you’ve downplayed this secret relationship. You had me laughing in this man’s face, wondering why he couldn’t be around us. And you covered up my curiosity with some cockamamie explanation about him liking me.”
“And what would you have done had you known?”
“I wouldn’t be here.”
“Exactly.”
“How long did you think you were going to play me? How long did you think you were going to parade me around in this man’s face, disrespecting him like you’ve been doing before he got the sense he needed to leave your lying, deceitful ass?”
“If it weren’t for Jacoby, you wouldn’t have figured it out.”
“Fuck you!” I screamed. “Do you honestly think…?”
I laughed, walked closer to Patrick and stood in front of him.
“How stupid do you think I am? Jacoby must have been planning his getaway for months, but you were too busy lying to notice what was happening. You were too busy trying to keep your lies together that you didn’t see things disappearing before you eyes. How long did you think he was going to
take what you were dishing out? ”
“How can you think about yourself at a time like this?” Patrick asked.
“Should I be thinking about your lying-ass? I guess throughout your schemes and lies, you’ve been thinking about me…and Jacoby. Either you were good with your lies, or…,”I paused and soon realized. “I have to believe you are an excellent liar. It’s better than to believe that, at my age, I was so fucking gullible.”
“I wanted you, but I couldn’t leave him.”
“Please don’t tell me that’s the best reason you can come up with.”
“I didn’t think I should have to choose.”
Patrick’s attempt to rationalize his actions was getting under my skin.
“So, because you didn’t want to choose, you didn’t think Jacoby or I deserved to choose either? You selfish asshole! Now he has left you with nothing.”
“And let me guess. You’re thinking this is exactly what I deserve,” Patrick said, unable to make eye contact.
“Oh, I didn’t think I needed to say it. And here, you can have this, too,” I said, tossing the letter and envelope towards Patrick’s face.
“What the hell am I supposed to do with that?”
“Oh, you’ll have plenty of fucking time to figure it out. Trust me.”
Through all my cursing, all my anger, I realized that I had fallen in love with this liar. Even if I wanted to leave him, I couldn’t have done it at that point; I couldn’t kick him while he was down. I stayed with Patrick until he built himself back up. My family watched as I gave all I had and what I didn’t have, and in return, I got more lies.
Patrick and I weren’t working towards anything, and I was tired of holding on to nothing. It’s almost as if Patrick thought his kisses and half-hearted I love youwere satisfying enough. My reasons for staying, for accepting Patrick’s lies, whatever they were, no longer made sense. I had decided Patrick wasn’t worth it. I was going to get out.
CHAPTER THIRTY
WHY AM I HOLDING ON?
Dexter
I paced my father’s room when I was tired of sitting. Most of the time I stood with my head leaning on the door, or a window, trying to decide which part of my story I was going to tell my father next. Where was he when I was going through my downs with Patrick? My eyes glistened as I fought back tears. Why was I crying now? I thought, trying to put my feelings into perspective. I stood and talked, hoping my father was listening. Marvin was on his deathbed, but this was my confession.
After Jacoby left, I spent the next few weeks waiting for some sort of normalcy in what I had with Patrick. But as far as I was concerned, normal never existed, and it wasn’t in our future.
During the nights, my mind worked overtime. I slept with the windows opened, allowing the quiet of the night to lull me to sleep. On still nights, the flurry of activities occurring in my mind kept me awake.What I couldn’t figure out before going to sleep, I dreamed about, and even in dreams, I couldn’t find the answers I was searching for. I knew whatever tactic I would come up with when I woke, it wasn’t going to work with Patrick.
I spent my days with J.R and Belinda, occupying my mind and my time with everything but what would become of my impending conversation with Patrick. Prepared, scared, or not, I knew what I needed to do. I did have one thing to draw strength from. Even though Jacoby had left like a thief in the black of night, he did, at least, have the strength to leave, and I wondered if, face to face with Patrick, I would be able to find the same courage. Until then, besides the fact that I loved Patrick, I hadn’t figured out why leaving was so difficult.
“Uncle Dex. Can I ride with you?” J.R. asked. I had stood in the bedroom earlier that day, after a heated conversation with Patrick and had decided that night would be the night.
“Don’t tell me you’re afraid to stay here by yourself,” I said, smiling. “You know the boogeyman never actually lived in the closet, right?”
We hadn’t gotten too far from the house before the questions began.
“Uncle Dex, are you and Uncle Rick fighting?”
“No, Kiddo, we’re not fighting. We’re just going through some things we need to figure out.”I didn’t want to lie, but I didn’t want to worry him, either.
“You were sort of mad on the phone. Are you sure everything is fine?”
When I didn’t answer, J.R. got very quiet. He positioned himself so he was facing me.He placed his elbow on the back of the seat, rested his head in the palm of his hand, and then sighed quietly. I reached over and rubbed my hand over J.R.’s head and down his face.
“Don’t look so sad, man,” I ordered.
“Uncle Dex, can I tell you something?”
“Sure. You can tell me anything. You know that.”
“I like Uncle Rick.”
J.R. wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t already know.
“I know you do, son. You and Rick will still be cool after tonight.”
A few minutes from Patrick’s house, I called to let him know I wasn’t too far, and gave him a heads up that J.R. was with me. Patrick knew how protective I was of my nephew.
Patrick had moved to Great Castle Estate, a gated community of single-family homes. He lived in phase one, on Liverpool Terrace, at the corner of Liverpool and Olgelvy Streets. He had a large window in the front of his house, and like most of his neighbors, everything in the living room was visible to anyone passing by.
When I pulled into the driveway, Patrick stood in the front of the
yard, under the pine tree where we’ve stood to talk many times before. There wasn’t anything unusual about our greeting. Patrick did smell of wine, but it was customary for him to have a glass or two when he got home from work. He had a friendly exchange with J.R., who was very excited to see him. They talked about the playoffs and placed bets that Kobe and the Lakers were going to win the NBA Championship the next season. Patrick, a die-hard Knicks fan, had his money on Shaq, King James, and the Cavs. Neither of them took into consideration that the Celtics were still a team to be reckoned with.
“Look, buddy, your uncle and I have to talk for a minute. I’ll be right back.”
Patrick and I were a short distance from J.R., but close enough that if he listened keenly he could hear our conversation. When Patrick tried to kiss me, I turned my head.
“So what did you want to talk about?” Patrick asked.
“I’m tired of pretending everything is fine between us, Patrick. I can’t do this anymore.”
I got straight to the point. I was tired of beating around the bush with him.
“But baby, everything is fine,” Patrick responded with a smirk on his face, and with that, I knew he wasn’t serious.
“Are you kiddin
g me? Have you been blindfolded this whole time? Do I look or sound like everything is fine? I don’t know what we’re doing, but I do know I can’t keep hanging around with such uncertainty over our heads.”
“Did you come here to tell me something, Dex?”
“Look, Rick. I love you, man. I love you, but I’m tired of choosing you over me. I’m tired of lying beside you and feeling that the person lying beside me would rather be somewhere else, because his mind is on someone else.”
“You knew the situation when you got in it,” Patrick said.
“What do you mean ‘I knew the situation when I got in it’? All I knew was what you told me. I wasn’t fishing around to verify anything you said because I expected nothing from you but the truth. I didn’t know you, so all I had to go on was your word. It’s been too long. Nothing is changing, and at this point, I’m tired of it. You sitting around thinking Jacoby is coming back, after so long,isn’t changing. ”
“What do you expect me to do?”
“I don’t expect you to do anything you don’t want to.”
I was getting upset. I wasn’t yelling, but I felt that if I didn’t leave, it would get to that point. J.R. came out of the car and stood at the driver side door. I still had some things I needed to get off my chest. I was looking at Patrick and I wasn’t seeing the person I unintentionally fell in love with. Patrick’s lies had made him distasteful and unattractive.
“Oh, and before I forget, the brother you had sitting in my house, the one you passed off as your cousin? It took me a while, but I figured that out, too.”
“Dexter, it’s been a long night. It’s getting late, and I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”
“When do you ever want to talk about anything? Those nights you hurried from my house as if you were a little school girl who had missed a curfew her parents imposed, were you hurrying home to Jacoby, or was there someone else you were sharing yourself with?”
“You tell me. You seem to have all the answers,” Patrick said, not admitting to anything.
“I’m curious,” I continued, ignoring Patrick’s statement. “What else are you not telling me?”
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