Abide with Me (4 page)

“Please continue.”

“Anyway”—Basil sat back up stiffly—“I show up late on purpose. She’s standing near the maître d’ dressed fly and lookin’ lost. She gives me this big smile and I give her a little peck on the cheek and tell her I’m sorry I’m late—which I’m not. But she says it’s okay, she really didn’t mind the wait, whatever. We got seated immediately ’cause they know me there, you know?”

“Go on.” The doctor’s face remained expressionless.

“So I ordered a Beck’s. She ordered a Kir—you know, one of those drinks women and sissies like. And then … I don’t know … maybe it was just the stuck-up way she ordered her drink … I don’t know, but something hit me. The whole thing was wrong.”

Basil thought he saw a faint glimmer of interest seep through the doctor’s facade.

“What do you mean, Mr. Henderson?” the doctor asked flatly.

“I really don’t know what it was. At first she reminded me of Yolanda; then I thought about Raymond …”

“Raymond? You haven’t mentioned him in a while. Did you finally call him?”

“Naw, I ain’t called that mofo. He didn’t answer my letter, so why in the hell would I want to call him?”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t he call you after the letter and suggest you see a doctor?”

“Yeah, but it was a phone call that lasted less than a minute long. It was like he was saying, ‘I’m concerned about you but I ain’t got the time to deal with you and your life. I got my own,’ ” Basil said as he stared blankly.

“You were saying you thought of Yolanda and then Raymond?”

“Oh, yeah. Then—don’t ask me why, Doc, ’cause I don’t have a fuckin’ clue.”

“Why did you think about him at the restaurant?”

“Who?”

“Raymond.”

“Because I’ve been thinking how I’m gonna get that mofo back! I’m gonna make him pay for ignoring my ass,” Basil said firmly. “Anyway, I just felt like that being in this restaurant with a dumb-ass sistah was the last place on earth I wanted to be. I had bigger fish to fry.”

“And what did you do then?”

“I excused myself. Told her I had to go to the men’s room. She just smiled and said something like ‘I’ll be waiting.’ I went up to the waitress who was at the bar picking up our drinks and told her to cancel the Beck’s, gave her a twenty, and walked my ass right on outta there.”

“So you just left the young lady sitting in a restaurant. Then what?”

Basil put his arms behind his head, as if he was stretching out on
the beach, somewhat satisfied that he’d gotten even the slightest rise out of the doctor.

“What’d I do then? Stopped my ass at a Mickey D’s, a block away, got me a fish sandwich, and took my ass home!” Basil burst out laughing, but the doctor didn’t even crack a smile.

It was Monday evening, a week and a couple of days after Raymond had received one of the most important phone calls of his life. He and Trent were enjoying the afterglow of a spectacular sunset lingering over the wooden deck in their backyard.

Relaxing on matching chaise lawn chairs, Trent was drinking a beer and Raymond was nursing a glass of white wine. Raymond still had on his work drag and Trent was comfortable in gray warm-ups and a black muscle T-shirt. They talked about the weekend just past, when Raymond’s parents had surprised them with a trip to Seattle to celebrate his nomination for federal judgeship. His parents had called Thursday and casually asked what Raymond and Trent were doing. When Raymond said, “Nothing special,” his father responded, “Great, me and your mom will be there tomorrow evening, so pick us up at the airport.” It was the first time Raymond’s father had visited them since they had told him they were a couple. Raymond’s mother had visited a couple of times and always stayed at their house, but this time
she stayed at the Four Seasons Hotel downtown with her husband. When Raymond suggested he get the guest bedroom ready, his mother responded, “You know your daddy don’t like sleeping in strange beds.” Raymond teased that hotel beds must not count.

Despite the sleeping arrangements, it was a wonderful weekend. Trent had taken the Tylers on a tour of the city, while Raymond made sure his caseload was in order. He had been advised to make sure there weren’t any controversial cases outstanding that might derail his nomination. Since he mostly handled corporate clients and a few sexual harassment cases, he wasn’t that worried, but he made sure.

Saturday evening, the four of them had gone to see the movie
Soul Food
and then enjoyed a delicious Italian dinner at Marco’s, an elegant supper club, posh with pretense. Sunday found them enjoying services at Mount Zion Baptist Church and then brunch at Mecca. Trent was happy about this since Raymond didn’t go to Mount Zion as often as he did. Trent went every Sunday, sometimes on Wednesday, and anytime there was a gospel musical. Trent loved gospel music. Raymond couldn’t count the number of times he had come home and caught his lover swaying from side to side like he was directing a large mass choir. He loved everyone from Tramaine Hawkins to Sandi Patti. Just as long as the song had a little Jesus in the lyrics.

Sunday evening, Raymond had tears in his eyes as he bid good-bye to his parents. In a tender embrace, his father told him how proud he was of him. His mother shared the same sentiment and whispered how much she loved him.

“I think your folks had a great time, don’t you?” Trent asked.

“Yeah, I think so. Thanks again for helping out,” Raymond said.

“I love your folks. They’re like family and it was my pleasure.”

“Even my pops, with his sometimes evil self,” Raymond laughed. He didn’t think his father was evil, just a little difficult at times, or as his mother put it, stubborn as a country mule. It was a part of his charm.

“Your pops is cool. He’s coming around. Besides, he’s so excited by the fact his son is going to be a judge, one day soon he might even accept us as a couple.”

“My pops accepts us,” Raymond said defensively. Raymond Sr. had never really voiced opposition toward Trent, at least not to Raymond. He couldn’t understand why Raymond Jr. wanted to move to Seattle when things were going so great for him in Atlanta, or so he thought. The truth was, Raymond had become bored with Atlanta, bored with his job, bored with his social life. When he fell in love with Trent, they both wanted a new beginning.

“Really?” Trent quizzed. Raymond smiled at his partner as he gazed into Trent’s cinnamon-brown eyes with their rims of dark charcoal. After a few quiet moments, Raymond spoke of his father’s pride.

“Yeah, I think Pops is cool with us. I know he’s pretty excited about this judge thing, but I don’t know what he’s going to do if I don’t get confirmed.”

“Of course you’ll be confirmed. Are you worried about that?”

“Naw. If it’s to be, then everything will be cool,” Raymond said confidently.

“Are you excited about it?” Trent asked. His face took on a serious expression.

“What do you mean?”

“Aw, you know. This confirmation process sounds like a bitch.”

“Yeah, it could be. But this is an opportunity I can’t pass up. You should see how the people in my office are acting. It’s like I’ve been appointed to a court in heaven,” Raymond said.

“You know I support you two hundred percent if this is what you want,” Trent said. His full lips curved into a tender, loving smile.

“So you think I should do this?” Raymond asked.

“You’re kidding, right? Didn’t you hear me? I’m behind you all the way. We need people like you on the bench.”

“I know that, but the FBI is going to be getting into my business.”

“Have you done anything you’re ashamed of?”

“Yeah, but I was acquitted of those charges,” Raymond responded with a marvelous, deep-throated laugh.

“What are you going to do when they ask about your marital status?” Trent asked as he took a slow sip of his beer.

“I’ll tell them I’m in a strong, stable, and loving relationship,” Raymond said. “Besides, they must know I’m gay.”

“Have they said so?”

“Not really, but you gotta know they’ve already done some investigating before they nominated me.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Did your father give you advice on how to handle this?”

“Not really. Just to make sure I tell the truth, but don’t tell them anything they don’t ask,” Raymond said as he loosened the gold metallic tie that lay against his snow-white shirt.

“What’s your mother sending you?” Trent asked.

“Huh?”

“She said something at dinner about sending you something that would help with the nomination process. Don’t you remember?”

“Oh, yeah. It’s probably some good-luck charm or some of her cookies and brownies. I hope so, ’cause it’s been years since she sent me some. Kirby gets them all now.”

“Maybe she thinks you’re too old for her cookies,” Trent joked.

“You’re never too old for your mother’s cookies. Never too old,” Raymond said as he savored the last of his wine.

Nicole felt a gentle tap on her shoulder. She turned around to face a pretty young lady in the lobby of a downtown rehearsal hall. Nicole immediately noticed her beautiful wheat-colored eyes, full of innocent intensity. She looked vaguely familiar, maybe because she looked a lot like Nicole, only a few years younger and a few shades lighter, almost golden, like the color of apple cider.

“Miss Springer, I’m Yancey Braxton. I think I’m going to be your understudy and I’m just so excited to meet you again. I met you once and you gave me your autograph,” Yancey said nervously.

“Yes, I’ve heard some great things about you. Nice meeting you,” Nicole said as she extended her hand to Yancey. As they exchanged warm smiles, Nicole suddenly remembered seeing her photo in the office of the producer of the revival of
Dreamgirls
.

“Miss Springer, I know we just met, but I have a big favor to ask you,” Yancey said.

“Sure, but please don’t call me Miss Springer. I’m just plain Nicole. What did you want to ask me?”

“Can we go and get a cup of coffee or some tea?”

“I wish I could, but I’m waiting for my husband to pick me up. We’re still unpacking. I don’t know if you know, but I just moved back to New York.”

“I didn’t know that. I heard you were teaching down at Spelman.”

“Yes, my husband, Jared, and I lived down in Atlanta for about three years, but to tell you the truth I’m so glad to be back in New York,” Nicole said gleefully.

“And I’m sure New York is glad you’re back. Well, it was nice meeting you and I look forward to working with you.”

“Me too. And we’ll get the chance to get together real soon.”

As Yancey turned and walked away, Nicole looked at her watch and realized it would be about thirty minutes before Jared would pick her up.

“Yancey,” Nicole called out.

“Yes, Nicole,” Yancey responded as she turned around quickly.

“I didn’t realize how early it was. I’ve got a little time. Why don’t we just sit in the theater and talk a little.”

“I would love that,” Yancey smiled.

“Are you from New York?” Nicole asked as they walked into the semidark theater.

“No, actually I’m from Memphis,” Yancey said.

“Wow, that’s not that far from my hometown. I’m from Arkansas.”

“Yeah, I knew that. I remember when you won Miss Arkansas.”

“You remember that? Child, that seems so long ago,” Nicole said.

“Here, why don’t we just sit here in center row,” she suggested. The two ladies dropped their bags in a seat directly in front of them and sat down for a visit.

Yancey told Nicole how seeing her win the Miss Arkansas title had
inspired Yancey to start participating in pageants at a young age. Yancey Elizabeth Braxton had been first runner-up for Miss Tennessee for two consecutive years, but had never made it to Atlantic City as a contestant for Miss America. She told Nicole that she was devastated when she didn’t win on her second try. Yancey felt despite the success of Vanessa Williams and Debbye Turner, her race had worked against her in Tennessee. She became so disgusted that she gave up a full academic scholarship at Vanderbilt University and transferred to Howard University to study theater when she discovered Vanderbilt’s program was geared toward music performance. After performing in every student production available, Yancey felt she was ready for Broadway and had left D.C. right before her senior year at Howard.