“What’s up pops?” he mocked. “Feels like I haven’t spoken to you in ages.”
“Yeah. I have to remind myself you have Natalie in your life now.”
“Don’t say things like that. You know that means nothing.”
“I’m kidding.”
“Okay, but don’t joke like that.” He paused. “So, how you been?”
In the years I’ve known myself, I can’t remember ever not being truthful with my father. I’d never lied about my sexual preference. I’d never lied about Kelvin and how he made me almost hate life and love. I thought about how disappointed he would be if I spoke this truth. Even if Jackson was sharing his bed with this man, I wasn’t making things any better if I were doing the same. I could hear my father now: “You can’t right a wrong by doing wrong yourself.”
“I’m great.” I lied to my father.
“How’s Jackson?”
“He’s fine. I think we’re due for a happy hour. Speaking of which, I got an invitation from Sidney.”
“An invitation to what?”
“Her wedding… to Jamel. They finally set a date. The wedding is in June.” I hadn’t spoken to Sidney so often since she finished school and moved back to Florida, but I was glad she hadn’t left me off the guest list.
My father and I had some catching up to do. He hadn’t given any details about their Christmas trip to the Bahamas or their New Years trip to Las Vegas. I do know he and Natalie were close to setting their own wedding date. My father, married again. I was already looking forward to the day.
“Mr. Harrison…” Caela’s voice sounded over the intercom.
“One second, Dad.” I lowered the cell phone from my mouth. “Yes, Caela,” I said, pressing the intercom button.
“Mr. DeGregory is holding on the line for you.”
“Thanks, Caela. Listen, Dad. I have to take this.”
“Drinks on Wednesday,” he said. “At my spot.” I had no idea where his spot was. I said, “Ok,” and then hung up.
31
And I Love You
Jackson…
I loved my mother and sister, but sometimes I do think they can be a little over protective. Sometimes I think, in their eyes, I will never be old enough to take care of myself. Besides the hurting love had put on me, I think I had done a decent job taking care of me for some time now.
“All I’ve heard from you so far this year is ‘Happy New Year.’ Is that any way to treat your sister?” Devaan asked.
“Or your mother?” my mother broke in. She and Devaan were a ruthless tag-team. I’d seen them in action.
“My two favorite ladies. How are you doing?”
“We’re fine,” they answered in unison. “The question is, how are you?” my mother asked.
I could see my mother now, sitting at her desk with her legs crossed, reading an email from a fellow supervisor that made no sense. She’s always said she worked in an organization full of fools, and sometimes I believed her.
“Work is going well. Trevor and I are…fine.”
Why did I hesitate? I thought.
“What’s going on, Jackson? You know you can talk to us,”
my mother said with assurance.
“I hope this isn’t another Gavin situation.” I wished Devaan
hadn’t said that. She had opened the floodgates and the questions poured in.
“What situation? What did Gavin do?” my mother began.
“I’m sorry, Jackson,” Devaan pleaded. “I thought she knew.”
“You thought I knew what?”
“No, she doesn’t know. I never told her.”
“Stop acting like I’m not on this phone. Can someone tell me what’s going on,” my mother whispered.
My mother hated feeling out of the loop when it came to Devaan and me. But she was the same one who taught us to try and solve issues on our own. And now she hated that we practiced what she preached.
I told my mother the same story about Gavin I had told Devaan. I told her how I went to sleep and woke up wondering if he ever loved me. He never understood the way he made me feel because he never took the time to. I thought loving him completed me, but as much as I loved him, there was still an emptiness that was never filled.
“There was nothing left to do but walk away. Mom, he’s part of the reason I left.”
“And the other part?”
“My job.” I paused. “And Trevor.”
“And you’re sure Trevor isn’t going to do to you what Gavin did?”
“I’m sure. He’s nothing like Gavin.” I reassured her. Now wasn’t the time to tell them about Ethan, or the letter I received, or the phone call that came for Trevor on Christmas Day. Those were three cans of worms I didn’t feel like opening.
Why hadn’t I told my mother about Gavin earlier? “So, to answer your question, this isn’t another Gavin situation.”
I felt a tear in the corner of my eye. I felt that tickling feeling as it moved down the right side of my nose. I had to remind myself I was at work.
“I didn’t know you had all this going on with Gavin. I thought he was such a nice man.”
“Guess he played that role well, just like he played all the other roles. There’s an Oscar out there with his name on it. Trust me.”
“Like Rihanna said, ‘and the award for the best liar goes to you,’ Mr. Gavin what’s-his-name,” Devaan said, almost in a song. We all laughed.
“Look ladies,” I said, getting up from behind my desk.
“Mom, I love you. Thanks for listening.”
“I love you, too, sweetheart. Tell Trevor hello for me and I’m looking forward to seeing him again.”
“And sis, thanks for making me laugh. I love you, too.”
“And I love you, too. Take care and remember I’m only a phone call away if you ever want to talk.”
“Thanks,” I said, and hung up.
32
There’s Nothing
Trevor…
The rain that fell was nothing but a nuisance. The temperature had been falling steadily, and it was finally starting to feel like January again. The threat of snow mentioned on this morning’s news finally looked as if it would actually happen. The rain did nothing to diminish the crowd that busied themselves up and down 7th street, most either rushing back to work after a long lunch hour or scrambling to find a place to just escape from their usual day at the office.
When I told Caela I would be having lunch with Morgan, she suggested I take him somewhere I hadn’t been in a long time and some place she was almost certain he hadn’t been either. Ping Pong Dim Sum on the corner of 7th and I streets in the Chinatown section of DC was definitely a good choice. Since I had extended the lunch invite and had never seen Morgan drive, I decided to drive. Morgan wasn’t the talkative type during the fifteen minutes it took to drive across town. He paid more attention to the various satellite radio stations than to me or my attempts at a conversation, and I didn’t mind since I welcomed the music to drown the sometimes-deafening silence between us.
Once in Ping Pong, we sat on the side closest to the street, watching women dodge raindrops they thought should have stopped falling by now. Morgan stared at the menu before settling on pork puffs. As I’ve done on my previous visits, I ordered the scallops and king prawns with shitake. Morgan picked up the chopsticks, cradled them between his fingers, and grabbed a pork puff from his plate.
“You know Trevor, I know I’ve never told you this, but I one day want to be like you,” he said, bringing the chopsticks to his mouth. He chewed quietly on the pork puff. He kept his eyes gazed at the table and I could sense a level of nervousness rising within him.
Did he just call me Trevor? I thought. “Be like me? In what way?” I asked, and smiled to put him at ease.
“In every way. Even with the threat of a recession, your business continues to do well. The banks are lending money so contractors are building condos atop of condos and I have no idea who’s going be living in them. And yo
u and your partner are still going strong.” He grabbed his glass of water. “And I respect you.”
“Thanks. But don’t you think you’re limiting yourself by settling to just want to be like me?” I took a taste of my exotic mix of pineapple juice, coconut purée and fresh lime.
“It’s not settling if it’s more than I have right now.”
I’m not sure what Morgan was talking about. He didn’t look like someone who didn’t have all of what he needed, and if he didn’t have all, he, at least, had most. Needless to say, I was not prepared for his comment. I didn’t expect he would be wearing his inadequacies on his sleeve next to his Gautier watch and diamond square cuff links.
“More than you have right now?”
“I don’t mean to get personal with you,” Morgan said, loosening his tie and unbuttoning the top three buttons on his shirt.
There on the base of the left side of his neck was that word, the one thing that can hurt you and save you. I looked at his tattoo and smiled to myself. “Love?” I asked.
“Oh,” he said, slowly covering his neck as if some dark secret had been revealed. “It’s nothing.”
“And how long have you been convincing yourself it’s nothing. You don’t just tattoo such a powerful word on your body and say it’s nothing.”
“Let me know if you gentlemen need anything else,” the waiter said, his Chinese accent infiltrating his otherwise perfect American English. When the waiter excused himself again, Morgan continued to answer.
“That was his name, but the only persons who knows this now is me and you.”
“He doesn’t know you have his name, or the name you gave him, permanently etched in your skin?”
“No. I liked that I had this little secret to myself. That’s the best decision I ever made.”
Already, outside of our meetings, this is the most I had ever spoken to Morgan. He had already heightened my level of curiosity.
“If you don’t mind me asking, what happened?” There, I asked the burning question that had been on the tip of my tongue.
“I’ll give you the short version now and the long version over some strong drinks. Trust me, I’m going to need it.” Morgan paused as if he were organizing his story in his head. “The last time he said he loved me was the night after his bachelor party ended. The next day, as his best man, I had to watch him lie to this woman about forsaking all others. I guess he meant after the rings were on both their fingers. I couldn’t say anything then because I was just as big a hypocrite as he was standing there smiling at her, our love scene on repeat mode in my mind. In her mind she’s thinking she’s about to marry the one man she had been saving her love for.”
“And the last time you saw him?”
“He went running from our hotel room like he had wheels for feet. I had given Ms. Tyesa Maynard all the clues and information she needed to catch his lying ass in the act. She wasn’t the only one he was giving his tender kisses to. And even though he was giving her great sex, she wasn’t the only one he was sexing like that. She thanked me, grabbed her Burberry printed tote and left as calmly as she walked in.”
“And what did you do?”
“I laid there with my hands behind my head, my legs spread apart, and contentment flowing through my veins. I enjoyed the last night on his dime and waited for his loser-ass to show up.” The smile Morgan wore now, I figured, mimicked the smile he wore then.
“You don’t think that bordered on cruelty?” I asked.
“Greed, Trevor, is never an excuse to hurt, or lie,” he began, staring at me as if he were giving me my final warning. “When everything you need is staring you in your face, you need to do one of two things: Accept the man or woman who, before God or in heart, had promised to love you, or just let them go.”
“So he lied to…?”
“To me? No,” Morgan interrupted. Now he was reading my thoughts, finishing my sentences. “I wouldn’t let him. He was lying only to himself, and Tyesa.”
Morgan spoke with an obvious disdain, only now I couldn’t discern if this was directed towards me or if it was remnants of the scorn he once had for this unspecified man. Unknowingly, Morgan had storied his way onto my short list of suspects. So, is this what he sees when he looks at me? Since running into Morgan this morning after getting off the elevator, I’d agonized over exactly how I was going to ask him about his potential involvement in my personal life. I wasn’t going to dance around the issue any longer than I already had.
The waiter returned and placed my order of satay squid on the table in front of me, and proceeded to set Morgan’s dish of lemon chicken in front of him.
“Gentlemen, would that be all?” he asked.
“Yes, thank you,” Morgan and I answered, sounding like one voice.
When the waiter had distanced himself from the table, I decided to ask my question before we were interrupted again.
“Who’s Bran?” I asked without a blink.
“I have no idea, but I assume you’re going to tell me.” Morgan sat back in his chair and waited for me to divulge more information about Bran.
I told him about the phone calls I had been receiving from someone who introduced himself as “Bran.” I told him I was quite sure Bran was some alias he probably picked out from a daily newspaper.
“I just need to know if you have anything to do with it.”
“Why would I…?” He paused and stared out the glass window. “So is this what this lunch is about, to see if somehow your life and your involvement with whomever had made it to my list of priorities?” He still hadn’t looked at me.
“When you mentioned your friend after that meeting we had,
I just assumed…”
Morgan laughed. “I mentioned Neyvada and her situation because you asked. You thought I was making her up? Did you think I was replacing pronouns to keep you from figuring me out?”
“I just thought...” and the words I wanted to come out had disappeared. Apparently, what I thought was wrong.
“Look Trevor, when I said I wanted to be like you, it wasn’t to hear myself talk. I don’t know what you have going on in your personal life, and I don’t care to know, but professionally, I think you have your stuff together. How many times have you asked me to call you Trevor?” Morgan asked. I shrugged my shoulders in response. “And I don’t because I respect you. Anyway, who has that much time on their hands to sit around making I-see-you phone calls? Isn’t that like a second job?”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”
“Well, I’m glad we’ve cleared the air with that question. Don’t want you walking around the office thinking I’m running around spying on you.”
“I’m glad you took the accusation well.”
“Like you said, man, you’re just trying to figure things out.”
I could tell a part of Morgan really wanted me to go into details about the phone calls. They say a drunken man tells no tale. Maybe under the influence of cranberry juice and vodka, he would get all his questions answered.
“So, you still have to tell me the long version of your story over drinks.”
“Don’t worry, we’re still on.”
Although it was only lunch, Morgan made sure he saved room for dessert and enjoyed the pineapple and mango puff I suggested. There was a lot more conversation on the drive back to the office. I don’t know how many times I apologized to him. I had gotten to know my young coworker a little better and I had a new friend. Morgan admitted he still had so much to learn, and thanked me for taking the chance of hiring someone with no experience fresh out of graduate school. He was surprised to learn almost everyone on staff had just about as much experience as him when they started.
He
33
Once You’ve Heard the Truth
Jackson…
I was sitting in my office watching the day transform from sunny and bright to dark and overcast. The thunder whispered, then boom, it rumbled across the sky. It sounded so near. A car a
larm sounded in the distant, then quiet. I walked over to the window and lifted it open. It smelled like rain. The sky was grey, and white, and grey. Then it began. A light drizzle turned the dry asphalt wet. The thunder rumbled across the sky again. The lightning flashed in the distance, and there stood my father. It flashed again, but this time I saw Trevor’s face illuminated. I struggled to see the face of the figure that stood in front of him. I never did. The lightning flashed again, and I jumped, startled. It was expected, yet it was unexpected.
That’s how my dream ended. I hated when my dreams were incomplete, and I spent the rest of my morning, the day, trying to figure out what all this really meant. I knew it meant something. A glimpse into what really is, pieces of puzzles that needed to be put together to reveal an image, except now I could never figure out what was the bigger picture.
I’ve sat here going half crazy, agonizing over the little bit of
information that had been given to me. Not having quite figured out what I should do, I had kept what I knew to myself. It was clear Trevor wasn’t going to say anything unless I confronted him. Until answering his phone on Christmas Day and hearing that warning meant for Trevor, I hadn’t given much credence to the letter. I went back and forth over how much of it was truth and how much of it was Gavin, or Ethan, trying to use their brain all in an attempt to get me back.
But I wasn’t going to find out what truth existed by sitting on my hands, swinging my feet, and not doing anything. I had been questioning myself and still couldn’t find the answers. I didn’t want to accuse Trevor, so I had purposely given him time. Ask him a question you already know the answer to and see if he lies. That line kept playing over and over in my head, and no matter what I did, I couldn’t think it away. But I had a plan.