Authors: E. Lynn Harris
“Sure,” Nicole said.
“Thanks, ’cause I hate eating alone,” Cedric said as he plopped into the welcoming metal chair. “What did you ladies order, and how much time do we have?”
“We’re just having salads,” Nicole said.
“I’ve noticed that most of the men don’t eat before the show,” Yancey commented.
“Yeah, because we have to do all that dancing. But I need something in my stomach,” Cedric said.
He ordered a bowl of soup and a dinner salad with low-fat ranch dressing, and while waiting for his food, he talked nonstop about how excited he was to be in the cast.
Dreamgirls
was his first national tour. The original
Dreamgirls
was the first Broadway show he had ever seen, when it came to Los Angeles in the late eighties. He told Nicole and Yancey how great it was to be receiving a regular paycheck and not have to work with a bunch of no-talent singers like he had while dancing in music videos. Cedric was beaming with confidence when he bet that before the show hit Broadway he would be understudying or playing C. C. White, one of the male principals.
“Who all have you worked with?” Yancey asked.
“You name ’em, I’ve worked with ’em. Janet, Jody, Paula, Vanessa, and Toni. You know, all the divas,” Cedric said.
“Did you know Yancey was Toni Braxton’s cousin?” Nicole asked.
Yancey looked down as she took her fork and removed an olive from her salad.
“Get outta here! Miss girl is fierce!” Cedric said. “She should be doing Broadway also.”
“Yeah, she’s doing great. But enough about her. Give us the tea on those other divas. Who’s nice, who’s a bitch, and who can really sing?” Yancey asked eagerly.
“I don’t know you well enough to tell you
all
my secrets. But, honey, don’t give me no wine or a rum and Coke or these loose lips of mine will start waggin’. You call me a talking
Sister 2 Sister
,” Cedric said with a sneaky smile.
“I don’t think I want to know who’s faking,” Nicole said.
“Well, I do,” said Yancey. “So you can tell me.”
“Nicole, we know someone in common,” Cedric said.
“Really? Who?”
“Delaney Morris. I’m from San Diego and she choreographed and directed a couple of videos I did.”
Nicole was visibly shaken. She stopped eating her salad. Her face became sad, as though someone had just told her that someone very close to her was dying.
“Yes, Delaney and I used to be great friends,” she said sadly. She felt tears begin to run down her face, and she didn’t know how she could keep Yancey and Cedric from noticing.
“Are you all right, Nicole?” Yancey asked.
“Oh, I’m fine. There’s just something in my eye,” Nicole said as she took the cloth napkin and dabbed her eyes.
“She had great things to say about you,” Cedric continued, oblivious to Nicole’s reaction.
“Ya’ll not good friends anymore?” Yancey asked.
“Let’s just say we don’t talk as much as we used to,” Nicole said.
“What happened?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Nicole said as she looked at her watch to see if the bus would save her from talking about Delaney.
“I’m sorry. I thought you guys were good friends,” Cedric said when he finally noticed Nicole’s agitation. “Lord knows I don’t want to bring the star of the show bad vibes on opening night. Are you sure you’re all right?”
“There is nothing to be sorry about. And I will be just fine,” Nicole said confidently. For the next ten minutes, while Yancey and Cedric wrapped up their getting-to-know-you talk, Nicole kept her eyes focused on Yancey’s soft, pink waffle-knit sweater. She was as still as a painting.
Nicole didn’t want to talk about Delaney because it was just as painful as talking about her best friend, Candance, who had died of AIDS a few years before Kyle. But Delaney was very much alive and living a productive life in San Diego with her lover, Jody, and their son, Fletcher. Their once strong friendship had been weakened by distance and a disagreement, not Delaney’s bisexuality. In fact, Nicole’s friendship with Delaney had deepened and grown stronger when Delaney confessed she enjoyed both men and women.
A child had weakened their friendship; the child Nicole and Jared had wanted Delaney to bear for them. The two friends had not spoken since one morning when Delaney called to say she couldn’t be a surrogate for Jared and Nicole. She and Jody wanted their own children and she didn’t think it would be a good idea. Delaney’s decision upset Nicole, not only because her hopes were high for motherhood, but especially since Delaney had suggested herself when they had been unable to find a suitable surrogate.
Nicole’s mind wandered back to that day a few days before Christmas and how she had pleaded with her friend to reconsider. Delaney responded, “I’m sorry. I can’t risk harming my relationship. You understand, don’t you?”
Nicole replied, “No, I’m sorry, Delaney, I don’t understand.”
The waiter returned with the check and Nicole came out of her self-induced trance. She quickly placed a credit card in the chocolate-brown tray and looked at her watch and then at Yancey and Cedric. “It’s show time, kids,” she said. “We’ve got a show to do!”
When Raymond arrived in New York, he heaved a big sigh to be there. Pouring down from a cloudless sky, the warm sun felt like the welcoming arms of an old and dear friend.
Once Raymond reached his hotel, he dropped his luggage in his small, one-bedroom suite and decided he wanted to visit some of his old haunts. He walked up Central Park West and over to Columbus Avenue, enjoying the food smells of the city and listening to the sounds rising from the pulsating streets. To Raymond, the Upper West Side seemed trapped in a time warp. The busy neighborhood looked the same as it had a decade before. Abundant rows of colorful fresh produce outside the shops, street vendors hawking pretzels, hot dogs, and cold drinks, and vagrants asking for spare change all fought for sidewalk space with musicians, dancers, and throngs of fast-moving New Yorkers. The only thing different, Raymond thought, was that the horn-honking drivers of ten years ago drove different-model cars.
It was only when he reached Seventy-second Street that Raymond
noticed a change. The Citibank where he frequently used his bank card had moved to the right side of the street in the former home of Popeye’s Chicken. One of his favorite restaurants, Tuesday’s, was now a fast-food Chinese place. He walked down Seventy-second and picked up his pace as he approached the location of the Nickel Bar, the infamous, mostly black gay bar where he had met Kyle and several sexual conquests. But the Nickel Bar was now history. The place where Raymond had met one of his best and most colorful friends was now an office supply store.
Raymond stood silently in front of the store. His thoughts drifted back to the late eighties when the Nickel Bar was one of the most popular spots on the Upper West Side. Instead of seeing rows of paper and office supplies through a glass door, Raymond saw a semidark watering hole, with a long oak bar and well-worn stools. He didn’t hear the sounds of the busy Upper West Side, but the blasting music of Chaka Khan, Melba Moore, and Diana Ross. Raymond thought about Arnold, his favorite bartender, and Dennis, the burly bouncer who always flirted with him. Had they moved on to another bar, or had they met the same fate as Kyle and so many of the Nickel’s other patrons and become people with AIDS?
After his walk down memory lane, Raymond was anxious to see Jared. He returned to his suite, brushed his teeth, and spread a warm towel across his face before going back down to the lobby, where he was to meet his friend. Jared was standing with his back toward Raymond, but when Raymond came within five feet of him, Jared could feel his presence and turned quickly to greet his friend.
Even total strangers could tell from the warm smile and the brotherly embrace they shared, not to mention the wet kisses they planted on each other’s forehead, that these two were best friends.
“Man, am I glad to see you,” Jared said as he placed his arms around Raymond’s shoulders.
“Same here, my brotha,” Raymond responded.
“You still lookin’ good,” Jared said as he gave his friend the once-over.
“I don’t know about that,” Raymond said as he rubbed his midsection. He had gained about thirteen pounds since he left his job, and about seven more since the last time Jared had seen him, last winter when they went skiing in Vail. Jared did notice the extra weight in Raymond’s face, but knew his friend might be feeling a little bit sensitive about it. Raymond couldn’t help but notice that Jared looked like he hadn’t aged a day or gained an ounce since they first met in Alabama some ten years before.
“So what are we going to do? Do you want to get a drink and grab something to eat? How much time do we have?” Jared asked.
“Which question do you want me to answer first? Or should I just say I’m all yours?” Raymond asked.
“This place looks nice. I didn’t even know this hotel was here,” Jared said as he took another glance around the hotel lobby with its cool blue and gold marble floor and vaulted ceiling.
“Yeah, it is nice. I hadn’t heard of this place, but the lady who handles my travel said she had heard a lot of great things about it. And so far, so good. Every room, I think, is a suite,” Raymond said.
“Why don’t we just stay here?” Jared suggested.
“Sounds like a plan to me,” Raymond said as he placed one arm around his friend’s shoulders and gently maneuvered him toward the automatic door that separated the sparkling lobby from the hotel restaurant.
The normally busy restaurant was quiet, the stillness broken only by the sounds of the bartender moving bottles of liquor. A hostess with two large menus in her hand escorted the two men into the dining room, smiled, and said, “Okay, gentlemen, take your pick.”
“How ’bout that table over there?” Raymond said as he pointed to a brass-rimmed table with four chairs in the corner with a view of Central Park.
“Great!” The hostess smiled as she led them to the table and placed the menus in front of them as they took their seats. “Can I bring you something to drink?” she asked as she ran her hands through a tangle of brown curls.
“Two glasses of Pinot Noir,” Jared said. “Naw, make that a bottle.” Jared knew it would take more than one glass of wine for the two of them to catch up on the details of each other’s life. After the hostess left, Jared rubbed his two large hands together and asked, “How was the trip to Chicago?”
“It was a lot of fun. Mama and Pops send their love. Kirby’s doing great, and the little Negro is in love,” Raymond said proudly.
“What? Who is the lucky lady?”
“A real nice young lady. Her name is Dawn, and guess what?”
“What?”
“She ain’t black,” Raymond laughed. He told Jared about Dawn’s ancestry and how happy Kirby seemed.
“You kidding? How is your pops handling it?”
“That’s still being decided,” Raymond said. “I think the only reason he didn’t have a heart attack is because at least she isn’t white. How is your better half?”
“Nicole is doing great. She’s in Detroit. To tell you the truth, I can’t wait until this tour is over, and she’s only been gone a couple of weeks.”
“I can’t believe she’s doing
Dreamgirls
again.”
“Neither can I,” Jared said mournfully. Raymond noticed a change in the tone of his voice.
“So why did you let her do it?” Raymond asked.
Jared arched his eyebrows and looked Raymond dead in the eyes and said, “Let her do it? Raymond, come on, get real. You know Nicole. It wasn’t about me letting her do it. She wanted to do it, and I want her to have whatever it is she wants and needs to be happy.”
“You really love her something crazy, don’t cha, boy?”
“And you know it!” Jared said.
“How long is the show going to be on the road?”
“I think a couple of months and then hopefully, fingers crossed, the show will come back to New York. So how is Trent?”
“Aw, Trent’s cool. You know … working hard. He’s over in South Africa working on some big project. So I guess you could say we both doin’ without.”
“So what are we doing with our lives, partner? Sounds like our spouses are blazing trails across the world,” Jared said.
“You think so?”
“Yeah, but we’re doing our share. Look at you. In another couple of months, my man will be a federal judge, and what can be more important than that?”
“Could be … could be not,” Raymond said quietly.
“What do you mean ‘could be’? Those people on Capitol Hill ain’t giving you a hard time, are they? If so, let me know. I still got some connections down there.”
“Naw, it’s just a slowdown. I still haven’t got a date concerning my confirmation.”
“Well, don’t worry. It’s gonna happen,” Jared said confidently. A waiter brought out a bottle of wine and showed it to Jared, who nodded his approval. While the waiter was opening the wine, Jared and Raymond remained silent, just enjoying the view of the park. Raymond was thinking that this might be the time to tell Jared what he had learned about Trent; he could ask Jared what he should do about it. Jared was thinking of sharing his concerns about his future in New York and if his marriage could survive the differences he had begun to notice.