“I don’t need to know anything about football to know he’s fine!” she said.
“Caela,” I called out. “Focus, please.”
“Anyway, he looked a lot like him. He looked a little over six feet tall. His skin was a light tan, the color of cinnamon. I wouldn’t say he was muscular, but his clothes looked like they were tailor-made for him.”
While she talked, I was looking at this man up and down, from the tip of his fresh-out-the-barbershop hair cut to the bottom of his black Kenneth Coles. “What about his hair. Did he have hair?”
“A close fade, I think, and a wide, bright smile.” Then she paused. “Why?”
“Caela, I’m on my way back to the office,” I said, and she could hear a changed tone in my voice. “My suspicion has been confirmed.”
A part of me wished I hadn’t witnessed this encounter between Jackson and this man, but at least I was no longer in the dark. I went searching for the evidence I needed, and there it was, and even if I wanted to, I couldn’t ignore it. I stood there painting a picture of him in my mind.
“You think Jackson has this man on the side?” she asked.
“As we speak. So even with all these phone calls telling me about Jackson being a good man, it seems I’m not the only man he was sharing his goods with.”
“Listen, Trevor, I don’t think you should jump to conclusions. Seeing Jackson outside having a conversation with someone isn’t exactly a smoking gun, you know.”
“Right. It just so happens he’s the same man you saw him with before. Whatever!” I said dismissively. “You loved that Jackson had come into my life at the time Kelvin and I were going through it. I didn’t have one foot out of my relationship with Kelvin and you were already planning a life for me with Jackson. One step at a time didn’t exist in your book, but that’s exactly how I should have taken it. You and all your questions: When is he moving here? Are you moving there? And now this.”
“Wait a minute. I know you’re not blaming me for any of this. Yes, I was glad Jackson had come into your life when he did. You needed the distraction. It forced you to accept what was no longer between you and Kelvin. And I guess I need to remind you that while you had one foot in that relationship with Kelvin, he had both feet out and in his relationship with Lawrence. Now, before you go screwing up what you have with Jackson, ask yourself this: Why would he move here to be with you if he had someone else? That just doesn’t make any sense. You know how small this place is.”
“Yeah, but he doesn’t.”
Leave it to Caela to tell me exactly how she felt. She was holding nothing back. I knew she was not to blame for any of this. It was my choice to hang on to Kelvin for as long as I did. And I couldn’t blame her for my getting involved with Jackson before I knew everything I could about him. He smiled and I fell in love. So when I was asking questions, trying to figure out if Jackson had a wife and child at home, what I should have asked was if there was a Mr. Jackson Bradley stashed away in some two-bedroom hillside condo while he ran around playing sexy lover-boy.
“Well, I didn’t know Jackson. All I knew was what you told me. I thought I knew his type. I did put him in the too-good-to-be-true category, but sometimes we say they’re too good to be true because we’ve only been with the ones who tasted like sour milk from a warm refrigerator. So now what? You think you rolling around in Dexter’s bed has been justified?”
“You’re damn right. Because guess what, buddy? While you were out there having your fun, so was I.”
“You’re not sixteen, Trevor. Leave the games to the kids,” Caela said. “All you’re doing is speculating. Maybe I shouldn’t have called you that night I saw him.”
“It’s too late for maybes.”
“If you want to know what’s going on with Jackson and that man, lay your own cards on the table. Are you man enough to do that, Trevor?”
I was quiet.
“I didn’t think so. See you when you get here.”
28
And This Christmas
Jackson…
Besides my birthday, Christmas was my favorite holiday. I had more than enough reasons to erase this day from existence, except this was the same day they celebrate the birth of Christ. It was also the day my family, as I had known it, changed.
Christmas cards were mailed to my mother, Devaan, Detrick, and Mr. Kirkwood, and presents were sent by FedEx over two weeks early to avoid the holiday rush. An extra Christmas card was sent to the last known address of the man who had assisted in my creation. My messages to him were always a simple “Thank you.” Like all the other Christmas and birthday cards, this one was returned with a bright red stamp that read “return to sender.”
“What’s that,” Trevor asked. He walked into the kitchen pulling a white v-neck t-shirt over his head, over his chest and down his torso. He was a sexy man. He had stayed the night, leaving Denise and Alaina to themselves at his house.
“The letter I had sent to my father.” I stood leaning over the breakfast island, staring at the envelope.
“It came back?” Trevor asked. He pulled a chair from the
bar and sat.
“Just like I told you it would, but you told me to send it anyway.”
“It was only a suggestion. I mean, you said you had been doing it all this time. I figured it wouldn’t hurt. The worst that could happen is it being returned.”
“And it was.” I walked to the refrigerator and removed a pitcher of orange juice. I removed the raspberry pancakes that had been warming in the oven.
“You never told me the others were returned, too.”
“I know.”
I sat beside Trevor, pouring raspberry syrup over my light and fluffy pancakes. If there was one breakfast food I had perfected, it was making pancakes. Aunt Jemima had already done most of the work, and only a dummy would mess up just adding water and stirring. The fruit salad was easy to prepare as well.
“Jackson, I never hear you say too much about your father. Why is that?”
“There isn’t too much I can say about someone I barely remember,” I admitted. “And it’s not like I haven’t tried. But remembering didn’t do anything but make me sad all over again. I was the little boy who still yearned for his father’s affection that never came, because he wasn’t there. So many times I felt I meant nothing to him because he never stayed around to help mold me into the man I would eventually become.”
“So you know you didn’t need him.”
“By the looks of things, no, I didn’t need him. But he didn’t give me an option. I tried to tell myself I still loved him, and had even convinced myself a simple sorry would do if he ever made his way back into my life. I tried to find him, but he left and took his family with him, and by family I mean grandmother, grandfather, and everyone in between.”
“Do you know why?”
“Of course I know why. My father was a smart man with money. He invested in Microsoft, Apple Inc., and women. He had friends in top positions in both companies. He thought his money gave him power and he tried to exert that self-given power over my mother with his outrageous demands and unconceivable requests. Only my mother wasn’t having any of it. During the divorce she took him through the ringer, getting more than half of everything. The judge was a widow with a chip on her shoulder and a husband who died in a hotel room on top of a $500 dollar a night hooker. My mother called it Divine Intervention. Anyway, the letters didn’t always come back.”
“And you haven’t seen him since?” Trevor asked.
The look I gave was the response he needed. How many times had Devaan and I been the topic of conversation at my father’s new family’s dinner table? How often had we been the thoughts that ran through his mind just before he fell asleep?
“I’ve seen him in dreams. Does that count?” I paused and looked at Trevor. “Can we please talk about something else?”
“Are you ready for this evening?” Trevor asked, changing the subject.
“Couldn’t be mo
re ready,” I answered before putting two small triangular pieces of pancakes in my mouth.
A potluck dinner was a good idea. I had only promised to play host. I wasn’t planning on spending my first Christmas with Trevor in the kitchen. The bottles of wine Mr. Harrison brought over two days ago had been chilling in the twelve-bottle wine cooler refrigerator under the counter in the kitchen. Although he and Natalie had planned a Christmas vacation on Brownes Beach in Barbados, her contribution of stuffed Cornish hens would be brought over when Adrian came later.
“You have any idea what Denise is going to prepare?”
Trevor laughed. “I’ve never seen that woman boil water. Whatever she makes is being made in your kitchen.”
I gave him that how-dare-you-say-that-about-your-friend look, and then I joined him in laughter. “Maybe Alaina can throw down.”
“Yeah, I guess we’ll have to see,” Trevor said before putting an apple slice in his mouth. “Aren’t you gonna to get that?”
“What? Oh!” My cell phone had been ringing like nobody’s business. I had left it in the living room area on the coffee table after talking with Colt. I hadn’t spoken with him as often as I liked since moving here. I was glad he was able to make the trip. Since it was cheaper to fly from Atlanta on Christmas day, he had reserved a flight to leave after spending Christmas morning with his family. “Are Dexter and Giovanni coming?”
Trevor looked at his cell phone, which was sitting in a corner on the counter. “He said he would let me know by yesterday, but I haven’t heard anything from him,” he said.
I got off the chair and dashed down the hall to the living room.
“Merry Christmas,” I answered without looking at the number on the screen. I began walking back towards the kitchen.
“Hey, handsome. Wassup? Merry Christmas to you, too.” It was Ethan.
“Why are you calling me?” I asked in a whisper.
“You didn’t tell me I couldn’t.”
“Which part of ‘I’m done’ didn’t you understand?” I stood in the hallway trying to speak as softly as I could. “Listen, I don’t want you to call me.”
“I only called to wish you a Merry Christmas.”
“And you have. Goodbye.”
“Wait!” he insisted.
“What?” I shouted back, sounding a little louder than I wanted.
“I still love you.”
I hung up.
My phone dinged to signal a text message. It was a message from Denard.
What’s up, Jackson? Hope this Christmas finds you and your family well. I wanted to say Merry Christmas to you and yours before I got too busy with these folks. Hit me back later. Be good.
- Dr. TDB
When I walked back to the kitchen, Trevor was standing in front of the sink cleaning his breakfast plate before placing it in the dishwasher. I sat at the breakfast island to finish my breakfast. He turned around, wiped his hands in the paper towel and tossed it in the tall garbage can in the corner. He walked over and stood in front of me on the other side of the bar. He stared.
“Are you going to say something, or are you going to look at me as if the world just pissed you off?” I asked. I kept my eyes on my plate. Had Trevor heard my conversation? I thought. No. I know I wasn’t speaking that loud.
“Who was that?”
“No one important.”
“I didn’t ask you if he or she was important, Jackson,” he corrected. “I asked who it was.”
“It was no one, Trevor. No one important.”
I don’t know why I didn’t just come out and tell him. I guess before I knew it, I had decided Ethan really wasn’t important, at least not to me. I thought about Ethan’s admission a few minutes ago and smiled. I kept thinking to myself, how does it feel?
“Ok,” Trevor said, and walked out the kitchen.
The dining room table looked like the last supper. Green salad with Posole and creamy cilantro-lime vinaigrette prepared the palate for the stuffed Cornish hens Natalie had labored over. I wished she were here so we could thank her personally. Alaina’s baked Dijon salmon was finger-licking good, thumbs included, and she admitted all Denise did was watch. Needless to say, that comment had everyone at the dinner table laughing and holding their bellies or covering their mouths so food or wine couldn’t escape. Attitude or not, Trevor’s grated potato salad tasted as good as any potato salad I’ve had, and he had even garnished it with fresh basil. Colton came bearing only gifts.
Though they were meeting for the first time, Adrian, Denise, and Alaina hit it off well, as if they had known each other all his young life. He was full of compliments. I don’t know if these two beauties were in love, but they were in something.
Dexter and Giovanni never made it. I couldn’t determine if the look on Trevor’s face spelled disappointment. Dinner was almost over and he had barely said four words to me. He only smiled or nodded in agreement when a compliment was given about how nicely decorated the house was or how flavorsome the grilled basil lemon turkey breasts tasted. I didn’t entertain his displeasure with me because, after all, it was Christmas.
Caela had made a quick stop to drop off her gifts for Trevor and me and to pick up the gifts we had bought for her and Kellen. Trevor definitely showed just how happy he was now that Kellen was so close to him. She didn’t stay too long, but packed a plate, making sure she included a piece of the much raved about turkey breast.
After dinner, Adrian demolished Colton in a friendly game of Madden NFL on the Wii. Then they sat in the living room with Denise and Alaina watching the classic A Christmas Story. Adrian had promised Colton a chance at redemption, challenging him in a game of tennis, a game Colton was much more skilled at. And everyone devoured a slice of the black forest cake I had baked from scratch. I might have been a little heavy-handed on the vodka, but no one complained.
Trevor and I had cleared the table and were loading the dishwasher when I finally decided to talk about him giving me the silent treatment.
“What are you so upset about? During dinner, you acted as if I wasn’t even there,” I said. I leaned against the kitchen counter, folding and unfolding a kitchen towel. Trevor remained silent, making me feel as if I were having this conversation with myself.
Looking stoic, Trevor said, “Something’s going on, and you’re going to tell me.”
“What do you mean? Trevor, I told you earlier, it’s nothing important, and I meant that. I’ve told you I have nothing to hide.”
“Then why are you acting like you do?”
“How am I doing that?”
“I don’t want to get into it,” Trevor said. He poured the soap in the dispenser, closed the door to the dishwasher, and then pressed the start button.
“No, let’s get into it.” I wasn’t going to allow him to shut down again. “You brought it up. Since you think I’m hiding something, since you think I’ve been acting suspicious, why don’t you tell me what it is you think I’m hiding?”
“If you say you have nothing to hide, we’re going to leave it at that,” Trevor said. He walked out of the kitchen and headed towards the living room. I continued cleaning.
When Trevor’s phone rang, I picked it up on the second ring. A number appeared on the screen, but no name. I held his phone to my ear and listened.
“This is Bran. I told you if you weren’t going to tell him yourself, I would make sure he knows what you’ve been up to. I hope you’re listening.”
I didn’t respond. I pressed my thumb on the red phone icon on the screen to end the call and then placed the phone back where it was.
“Was that my phone?” Trevor asked, standing in the doorway.
“It was,” I confirmed. “They didn’t say anything. I guess it was no one important.” I never turned to look at him. I kept cleaning the kitchen counters just like I was when he first walked out.
29
If you’re Reading This
Trevor…
It??
?s probably a good idea to keep this short and to the point. I know I should be saying this face-to-face, but what I feel wouldn’t let me. I’ve disappointed myself because I vowed I’d never be in this situation. I guess some things were just out of my control. I’ve been Jackson, and I’ve been Giovanni, but I’ve never been the one to cause anyone to feel like I made Giovanni feel. I have to accept that what has happened between us was what it was, but it can never happen again. I wish I could stay, but I know I can’t—my past won’t let me, my now won’t let me. What happens now is up to you.
Dexter
Christmas and New Years came and went, and I hadn’t heard from Dexter until now. My phone call a few days after Christmas and again on New Year’s Eve went unanswered, and I didn’t know if text and voice messages were received or deleted. Now three days after New Year’s, I was holding this letter from him. I never saw this coming, but after all this time, I should have expected something. I wasn’t sure what I felt or what I was supposed to be feeling.
I looked at the phone several times, and back to the letter, wondering what I really needed to say to him. His letter was clear, but I dialed his number anyway. If anything I should’ve been glad someone was unselfish enough to end this triangular affair.
“I didn’t think I was going to hear from you,” Dexter answered.
I guess this letter didn’t mean he had totally erased me from his memory.
“I thought the same until I got your letter today.”
“Listen, Trevor...”
“You mean you didn’t already say all you had to say?”
“What do you think you were doing?” Dexter asked.
He asked that question as if he had no involvement in what we were doing. “What do you mean?” I asked.
“Your Christmas dinner invitation. You didn’t think I was going to show up at this man’s house, laughing and talking to him while scenes of us replayed in my mind? That would be a bit hypocritical, wouldn’t you agree?”