“Good morning, Wesley,” I greeted, opening the door to my office.
“Are you sure?” he asked with a worried look on his face. He stood leaning against the wall as if he were standing in front of a saloon with a straw in his mouth and a store-bought cowboy hat tilted halfway down his face, waiting for a country girl he had his eyes on to come out and entertain him.
“Is something on your mind?” I asked, stopping momentarily, making sure my eyes met his.
“I was gonna ask you the same question, but since you beat me to the punch...” I pushed the door open and walked across the room to my desk. Wesley entered behind me, checked his watch as if he were gauging the time he had with me, and then closed the door behind him.
He stood at the door with both hands in his pockets. I stood behind my desk. After searching his face, I waited for him to begin. There was definitely something on his mind, but he looked as if he was uncertain of my reaction that would follow. Maybe Wesley was just making sure his words would come out right.
“I’m listening,” I said, giving his cue to begin.
“Lately you’ve seemed a little preoccupied. Is everything aiight?” Wesley asked in his big-brother tone. I gave him a what-the-hell-are-you-talking-about gaze, looking at him sideways.
“Besides work, everything is fine,” I explained, staring at him, and I hoped my explanation had satisfied his concerns. I hoped he sensed this conversation was not on my list of topics I wanted to be discussing this early morning. I hadn’t had my morning pick-me-up, and I could hear the poetry of Chai tea speaking to me in a whisper.
“Man, you’re gonna have to come better than that if you expect me to believe you. I might not know what’s bothering you, but I do know what it’s not, and what it’s not is work. Look, man, Trevor...” Wesley walked closer to me, pressed his palms against the desk, and continued speaking. “You had that same look on your face you had a couple years ago when you were you going through your dealings with Kelvin, that same look of distance, and the only person not aware of it was you.”
I stood in front of Wesley with my eyes fixed on his, but when Kelvin’s name was spoken, it broke my stare. I had no idea Wesley had been so observant before, and I wasn’t aware he had been taking notice now.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about?” That was my only rebuttal.
“Oh, I don’t? So, I guess you’re not gonna tell me what’s going on with you and Jackson?” His question stopped me in my tracks.
I stood there looking at him. Everything that had been happening came rushing through my mind, as if someone had pressed the rewind button on my love life and was playing them all over again. The faces of a handful of men, their distorted interpretation of love, and my short-lived involvement with them played like previews of a few poorly written, poorly acted movies. I wondered what Wesley would say if he knew what was going on had nothing to do with Jackson, at least not directly, or if he knew what he thought I was going through was a direct result of my own greed.
“You’re one of the good guys, man,” Wesley said. “Whatever it is shouldn’t be happening to you.”
I was glad Wesley had so much confidence in what I was and what I deserved. I, on the other hand, was starting to feel the opposite. I was even more relieved he couldn’t read my mind.
I trusted Wesley and knew whatever I confided in him would stay between us, and within these four walls of brick and glass. He knew I shared a lot with Caela, but that I was sharing just as much of my world with him was unknown to her. I knew they would never compare notes in conversations.
So I spent the better half of my early morning in conversation with Wesley. Since he had already known about Kelvin and how I had met Jackson, I went straight to my now complicated friendship with Dexter.
“That trip I took to Chicago was a mistake,” I began.
“A mistake? How so?”
“I went with Dexter?”
“And how does going with him make it a mistake?”
“Because…” I paused, quickly planning in my mind how I was going to tell what had transpired.
“Trevor,” Wesley called out.
“What began as an innocent weekend turned out to be so much more. Nothing that happened was planned.” I stood beside Wesley, leaning on my desk like he was, with my arms folded across my chest, protecting myself from my own inflicted hurt. “Things just went too far.”
“In other words, you fucked up?” Though Wesley didn’t ask what exactly went on between us, I was pretty sure he had a good idea.
“If you want to say that, but I don’t think I’m the only one fucking up.”
“What do you mean?”
“I have been getting these phone calls, only I haven’t been able to figure out who’s calling or why. They began over a month ago, just after Jackson moved here.”
“And you think it’s someone Jackson was involved with?”
“No. I think it’s someone he is involved with.”
“And you’re sure about this?” Wesley asked, looking at me,
but I kept my focus straight ahead.
“Come on, Wesley. What other explanation could there be?” I walked behind my desk and sat.
“So the idea that these calls could be connected to Dexter never crossed your mind?”
“I seriously doubt it.”
“May I ask you a question?” Wesley asked. He turned to face me, leaned over and pressed his palms on the desk.
“Sure,” I said.
“First I want you to look at me,” he ordered.
I raised my head slowly, lifted my eyes, and then stared at him.
He stared back, without blinking, and then asked, “Do you love Jackson?”
Before I could respond, I felt my heart sink. “Yes,” I responded, and for the first time since we started talking, my eyes were moist. “I’m just not sure how strong our love is.”
“Does he know?”
“Yes,” I said quickly.
“I’m not asking if Jackson knows the strength of your love for him.” I looked at Wesley with puzzling eyes. “I mean does he know about you and Dexter, your trips, all of that?” Wesley said to clarify.
His question had taken words from me. The truth is I had no idea what Jackson knew, if he knew anything at all. He hadn’t said anything yet.
“I don’t know how it happened. I do know one morning I woke up and both Jackson and Dexter were on my mind, and sharing space in my heart. I knew how Jackson got there, but I don’t remember letting Dexter in.”
“I don’t know why people complicate this beautiful thing call love.”
I don’t know why some of us go out of our way to complicate it either, I thought, looking at Wesley.
He got up from the desk and began walking towards the door. He stopped, raised his hand to his chin, and rubbed it pensively. He turned around slowly, held his arms wide, and summoned me over to him. When I got close, he drew me into him and into a warming embrace. “Man, I just thought my friend needed this,” he said. “I’m sure you know what to do now.”
And then I cried. I wouldn’t have agreed with Wesley earlier, but he was right: a simple hug was exactly what I needed.
“I better get started on this day. The crew should be here any minute now,” Wesley said, glancing at his watch.
I looked at my watch, too. It was about 8:45. “Yeah, you’re right.”
Wesley opened the door. Before he closed it behind him, I called out. “Wesley.” He opened the door and stuck his head inside my office. “Thank you,” I said, finally managing a smile.
“No big deal, man. I’m always here if you want some help figuring things out. Stay strong,” he said and walked out.
21
Losing You
Jackson…
I couldn’t explain the strange feeling I had when morning broke. It wasn’t there when I fell asleep, but there it was, rising in the pit of my stomach. It resembled feelings I had before when I knew something just did
n’t feel right. It was that familiar feeling I had when I noticed smiles disappearing, and everything, including hearts, began to break. The feeling I had when I found myself trying to get to the heart of the matter, even after I knew nothing else mattered, at least not to him. I looked around only to find myself by myself, and finally I realized it was over. I didn’t know what any of this meant, but I knew I didn’t want to find myself in that place again, wondering what happened when I should have known all along.
I still hadn’t figured out this letter, and it was giving me a headache I surely didn’t need. So what if Jackson hadn’t told me about his trip. I hadn’t gone into details with him about Denard, either, and I figured his trip was just as innocent as my encounter with the doctor.
I was in the guest room sitting in the middle of my European Farmhouse Hampton Hill upholstered bed that was specifically bought for the room. I purposely fell asleep here, where I found myself sleeping most nights and awaking most mornings when I was in the house alone. I was giving Trevor the benefit of the doubt because I didn’t know what else I should be giving him. If he had some secret he was keeping from me, I was sure it wouldn’t be his secret for too long. I was willing to be patient, hoping when and if anything came to the fore I wouldn’t be left with a shattered heart in my hand.
I wasn’t going to get much accomplished by sitting here. I still had a day of work ahead of me and I hadn’t even made it to the shower yet. With that in mind, I lay back in the bed, grabbed my cell phone and dialed my mother’s work number. It had been a while since I left Mother a message to greet her as her morning began.
Mother, good morning. Hope your day has started out well. You know I love you, and will talk to you soon. Give my love to the husband if you talk to him before I do. Have a great day, and don’t let those so-called crazy people cause my mother to stress. Love you.
- Jackson
It was a simple message I was sure would bring a smile to my mother’s face. I tried to mask any anxiety in my voice because I knew how she was. All she needed was a hint and the phone calls and a myriad of questions were sure to follow.
I looked at the time on my cell phone. Just as the minutes ticked to 6:30, the television came on. I sat up for a moment listening to the weather. Well into November and fall was in full swing. I didn’t mind the fall weather as long as it wasn’t cold and raining, but that’s exactly what was on the forecast, and not just for today, either. After convincing myself to get up and making my way to the bathroom, my cell phone rang.
“Hello,” I answered. I hadn’t checked the screen to see who was calling, but this early in the morning, the list of possible callers wasn’t that long.
“What did you do with the information you received?” he asked in a deep, raspy voice. I wasn’t sure if he was trying to sound incredibly sexy or if this was an attempt to conceal his true sound.
“And what information are you asking about?”
“Playing dumb is not going to get you anywhere. I’m trying to help you out.”
“I don’t know who told you I needed help.” He had gotten my attention, as much as I didn’t want to admit it.
“So you think you’ve really found love, don’t you?” he asked.
“Assuming I had lost it, you tell me.” I sat back in the bed and waited for this man to tell more of what he knew. I figured this phone call would come sooner or later since I did nothing with the letter I had received, besides sharing it with Gavin.
“Jackson, I know you want to be loved. I know you think Trevor has finally made you happy. It seems you’ve gone anywhere for love, but what if I tell you where you’ve gone is no different from where you’ve been, or where you just came from.”
“I would say you don’t know what you’re talking about. And you don’t know Trevor.”
“I hate to disappoint you, Jackson, but I’m not interested in knowing him. But I do know you.”
“You do?” I asked with a surprised look on my face. I sat on the bed trying to fit his voice to the Rolodex of faces that immediately came to mind.
No luck.
“Yes, I do. But you don’t know Trevor. You think the person who knows hurt wouldn’t hurt you. You think the person who has had his share of love gone wrong would know what to do when someone as real as you finally comes into his life. You, Jackson, have been searching for someone you want to just be yours, but if that’s what you think you’re getting from him, it’s not.”
“So let’s say I believe just for a moment what you are saying is true. If you know what you’re accusing Trevor of is true, why not just tell me? How do I know you’re not just trying to start something?”
“You don’t have to worry about me destroying this love you think you’ve found. Trevor is already doing what he needs to ruin whatever it is you have. And, I haven’t come out and told you everything because I don’t want to be the one to cause you hurt,” the caller explained. “I figured the least Trevor could do is be truthful.”
“And you know the truth?”
“Yes, and so do you.”
“I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me who you are?”
“In time. Right now, my identity is not important. Like I said in the letter, ask him a question you already know the answer to, see if he lies.” And then he hung up.
The conversation had left me with more questions than it
did answers, and I guess the only other person who had the answers I needed, since this man wasn’t going to tell me anything, was Trevor.
My morning hadn’t gone as planned. I usually mentally prepare for the day in the shower, but now I was standing there, the water from the spout beating against my face as I tried to think myself through approaching Trevor. All I did was convince myself it was best to say nothing at all, at least not now.
So many questions inundated my mind. My heart was racing, and nothing I thought helped to slow it down. I was starting to feel like the only kind of love I was ever going to know was the kind that only knew how to hurt. The faulty love that began with my father had somehow infiltrated every relationship I’ve had since he disappeared. When did I become such an attraction for this madness?
22
The Truth of it All
Trevor…
I spent the hours between my heart to heart with Wesley and lunch in my office, hidden from everyone. I had no meetings scheduled this morning so staying out of sight was practically easy. I pretended work was keeping me busy, when in fact it was those unsettling thoughts that kept my mind on everything but. When Caela arrived I gave her instructions to tell anyone who called I was in a conference until the afternoon. Since she scheduled most meetings, proposal, and demonstrations to clients, she knew I was not being the least bit truthful, and of course, she wanted to know why. I wasn’t in the mood to explain. I didn’t feel like giving her the answers to why. Though she had let me alone for the moment, I knew she would later return with her same inquisitions.
I had picked up my cell phone several times, but I couldn’t decide whom to call. This decision should have been easy. It used to be so easy. I knew I should be calling the one I loved. His voice should have been the one I wanted to hear first. My fingers had a mind of their own and were already pressing buttons to call the man I lusted after.
“Mr. T. Harrison, what’s going on?” Dexter answered as if he were hearing my voice for the first time in years.
“Sitting here thinking about you,” I admitted, although that wasn’t entirely true.
“Should you be over there doing that?”
“I don’t know. Should I?” I asked. “Me thinking about you isn’t going to hurt anyone, now is it?” The words fell from my mouth and part of me wished I could take them back.
“There’s always that possibility of someone getting hurt, Trevor. Isn’t Jackson still around?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“I need to ask you something.”
His statement sent my heart thumping as if he had said the w
orst thing in the world to me.
“What do you need to ask me?” I said when my heart was at a more controllable pulse.
“Are we going to talk about Chicago, or are we going to pretend it never happened?”
“I couldn’t pretend if I wanted to. Maybe we can talk about it over lunch,” I offered.
“When, today?”
“Yes, unless you’ve already made plans.”
“No plans, at least not anything that can’t be rearranged.”
I managed to slip out of the office without Caela seeing me. It was exactly noon, which meant she was in the bathroom, leaning over the sink, carefully applying her Waterproof Microfiber mascara to extend and thicken already long and naturally curled lashes. Coming off the elevator, I ran into Morgan Frazier. He had taken an early lunch and was heading back into the office for a 12:30 conference call. This was only his second year with the company, but he had fit in as if he had been here as long as Jory or Xavier.
Like summer in D.C., fall had its perks, too. I had hoped for a repeat of the spectacular weather we had enjoyed in the beginning of October as November greeted us, but all hope had been lost. It was a cool sixty-degree day, cool enough to layer just a bit. There were moments of sun attempting to brighten the otherwise dreary day, but those stubborn clouds had been dominant.
My black cashmere v-neck sweater and gray tweed pants was appropriate attire. I forgot what traffic in the District was like on any given afternoon, but I was quickly reminded as I maneuvered my way down Connecticut Avenue in the northwest quadrant. As I did, I’m sure many people cursed purchasing a manual shift vehicle, especially when stuck in the 3rd Street tunnel, on Pennsylvania Ave, or on the 14th Street Bridge during the mass exodus at quitting time.
La Tomate Italian Bistro, a neighborhood bistro with affordable regional Italian cuisine, was Dexter’s choice for lunch. Located on Connecticut Avenue in the heart of historic DuPont Circle, La Tomate was only a few blocks from Dexter’s law firm, Abramson, DeGregory, and Dixon LLC, so travel was a breeze for him. A.D.D. LLC was nothing like its interesting abbreviation. They were a team of client-focused lawyers who committed to and believed in the innocence of those they defended. They sued for punitive damages that otherwise wouldn’t have been sought after or rewarded. They always gave to charity and gave back to the community by establishing a paid summer internships to two law school students from any of the local colleges.
'Til It Happens to You Page 13