“I started to call you about this, but I knew you were busy. How is the case coming with Rosa?”
“Just waiting for the tests to come back,” Basil said.
“What kind of tests? Paternity?”
“We took another one for good measure, even though I have no doubt Talley is my baby girl. Rosa wanted me to take another HIV test,” Basil said.
“Another one?”
“Yeah, dude. I haven’t been talking to you as much as I’d like, but that was one of the reasons she up and left. She told me that someone from the health department had called her and told her I was HIV positive. Can you believe that shit? I told her there must have been a mix-up at the hospital. She was off the chain with worry that she and Talley were HIV positive,” Basil said.
As I listened to Basil I thought about the odd call I had gotten from that woman when I’d first moved back to New York. I thought the call was so silly that I hadn’t mentioned it to Basil. Maybe the call I received and the one Rosa received were connected.
“Are you sure it was the health department who called Rosa?” I asked.
“That’s what she said. Why do you ask?”
“I guess I should have said something before, but somebody called me and told me to be careful with you and led me to believe you might be HIV positive,” I said.
“What? Get the fuck out of here,” Basil said, laughing.
“I guess you still got some enemies out there, but this is low,” I said.
“Why didn’t you say anything to me about this before?” Basil asked.
“I figured if it was true, you’d tell me in your own time,” I said.
“Was it a man or a woman who called you?”
“It was a woman.”
“I guess that narrows it down a little, but Rosa told me it was a dude who called her. She said it was an effeminate man.”
“Could have been the same woman trying to act like a man,” I said.
“Yo, the more I try to do right, the more people want to fuck with a brotha,” Basil said.
“So, did you take the test?”
“Damn yo, I have a complete physical every year. Of course, I take the test every year, and my shit is clean as a whistle. But Rosa’s ass came with me to the doctor’s office and then went back when the results came back.”
“So, everything was cool?”
“Damn straight. Do you want to see the results?” Basil barked.
“That would be pertinent only if we were going to sleep together, and I think we both made the decision that that’s not going to happen,” I said.
“You made the decision,” Basil said firmly.
“Do you think it was this Ava lady who’s spreading these lies about Yancey?” I asked, switching the subject.
“I wouldn’t put nothing past that bitch. I mean, that’s what happens when people have money, they don’t have shit else to do but try and ruin other people’s lives. Even their own children’s,” Basil said.
“Maybe I should investigate Ava. Maybe she’s the source of both of our problems,” I said.
“I’d bet money on it. I’d kill that bitch if I thought I could get away with it,” Basil said.
“If Ava created this mess, there are other ways to handle her,” I said.
“The bitch in a coffin or an urn would still be the best solution,” Basil said.
“Hey, B, you handle your business with your little girl and I’ll take care of this end,” I said.
“That’s what’s up. Holla,” Basil said as he clicked off the phone.
3
__________________
My mother, like most mothers, thinks she’s psychic when it comes to her children. So I wasn’t surprised when she called with that certain tone and asked if I was doing okay. I knew my dismissal from Bling had been in some of the media outlets in New York, but it seems Mother got a little help from one of her former students who heard Sybil Wilkes and J. Anthony Brown talking about my face-off with Yancey B. on the Tom Joyner show, which I didn’t know ran in Nashville.
“So, who is this Yancey B.?” Mother asked.
“A singer and actress,” I said after I had assured her everything would work itself out.
“I can’t believe she thinks my daughter would deliberately spread lies about her. Yancey needs to know you were raised right.”
“Maybe I’ll use that in court,” I said, managing to summon a laugh.
“Now, Zola, don’t take this lightly. Even if you don’t have to pay her millions, hiring the right lawyer can still cost thousands of dollars. Your dad and I have gone through a lot of our retirement money trying to help Pamela.”
“Don’t worry, I can handle it.”
“Did I tell you the latest about Pamela?”
I let out the loud sigh that I usually reserve for ridiculous men, dumb girlfriends or my annoying older sister.
“Zola? Are you still there?”
“I’m here, Mother,” I said.
“Don’t you want to know about Pamela?”
“Is she dead?”
“Zola! I can’t believe you. Don’t talk to me like I’m one of your girlfriends. We’re talking about family.”
“I’m sorry. What’s going on?”
“She finally got into a clinic in Minnesota that your father and I think will help her, and we’ve been trying to get her in for years. Pamela came over about three days ago, drunk and high, wanting to borrow some money.”
“I’m sure you gave it to her,” I said.
“I did, but with conditions. I knew there was a spot for her in Minnesota, and so I told her I would lend her some money if she would come over the next day and help me with my garden. Unlike you, Pamela loves working in my garden. I knew she was going to go out and buy some drugs or liquor, but I felt if the good Lord could protect her one more night, I could have one of the intervention counselors from the clinic here in Nashville convince Pamela to go to Minnesota.”
“So what happened?”
“Sure enough, Pamela showed up. She was late, but I was so happy my prayers had been answered. Donna, the counselor who Pamela really liked when she was in a rehab clinic here in Nashville, was at the house waiting for her. Donna is a gardener as well, and the two of them went out and worked in the garden. About two hours later, Pamela came into the house in tears, with Donna holding her tight. Pamela told me she was ready to change her life. I just threw my hands up in the air and cried, ‘Thank you, sweet Jesus,’” Mother said.
“How long do you think she’s going to stay?”
“I don’t know, Zola, but I’ve got a feeling this is the place that can help her.”
“I’m glad, if only for you,” I said softly.
“Zola, you need to forgive Pamela for what she’s done to you.”
“I can’t, Mother. I could have never done what she did to anyone,” I said.
“It took two to tango. Wilson wasn’t the saint you thought he was,” Mother said.
“Mother, look, I can’t expect you to understand how I feel.”
“Zola, you’ve had just about all life has to offer. There are things about Pamela that you don’t know.”
I was silent for a moment, wondering what she was referring to, when Mother continued talking.
“I know I should have told you long ago, and I know the phone is not the place to share something like this, but I want you to stop carrying around all this anger in your heart.”
“Tell me what, Mother?”
“I wish I could tell you this in person,” Mother said.
I didn’t know what to expect, so I asked her to hold on and I went to the kitchen and got a bottle of water. I opened it and sat on the edge of my bed and took a deep breath before I picked up the phone.
“I’m back.”
“Zola,” Mother said. Then there was a brief silence over the line.
“Are you still there, Mother?”
“Pamela isn’t my natural birth daughter,” she said calmly.
I wanted to jump for joy, but I wanted to make sure I’d heard correctly.
“She’s not your natural daughter? What are you talking about?”
For the next fifteen minutes almost nonstop, my mother told me how my father had an affair with Pamela’s birth mother and how she had given her up when Pamela was about three years old.
“Why did she do that?” I asked.
“She was on that stuff,” Mother said.
“Crack?”
“I don’t know. Back then they just called it dope or stuff,” Mother said.
“What happened to her?”
“She was selling drugs for some man, and he killed her.”
“Pamela’s mother was a crack ho?” I asked.
“Zola! I didn’t think I would live to see the day when my daughter would call another woman that word.”
“But that sounds like what she was, Mother. Was she hooking?”
“Listen to me. Whatever she did, you can’t talk about the dead with such disrespect.”
“I’m sorry, Mother, but why didn’t you tell me about this before?”
“It was grown folks’ business. I should have told you when you were old enough to understand, but since you and Pamela were always fighting, I thought it might make the situation worse.”
“Were you and Daddy married?”
“No, we were just courting. He knew I didn’t believe in premarital sex, but you know, baby, the rules are always different for men. But because he went against God’s word didn’t mean I was going to. Still, I loved him, and when he asked me to take Pamela in to prevent her from spending her life in some orphanage, I just couldn’t say no. I prayed on it, and did what I thought God would want me to do, and then I loved her like she was my own. Pamela didn’t ask to come into this world.”
“Mother, that’s a really sad story, but you and Daddy did all you could to raise her like me. At some point when Pamela became an adult, she also became responsible for her own life. Does Pamela know how her mother was killed?”
“She found out several years ago from one of those old drug addicts she was hanging out with, and then she confronted both your daddy and me. That was one of the times Pamela disappeared for more than a month,” Mother said.
“Is this supposed to make me forgive her?”
“You’ve led a perfect life, Zola! Doesn’t that make you happy?” Mother asked.
I thought about her question and I suddenly caught a glimpse of my face in the mirror on the wall. I had not led a perfect life. I had slept with a married man to advance my career. I had slept with men I didn’t and couldn’t love.
“I have not led a perfect life, Mother,” I said.
“None of us have or will.”
“I’m sorry, Mother. What can I do for Pamela?”
“Do whatever your heart tells you. If all that means is getting on your knees to ask God to support her on this journey, then that’s fine. You might want to call, or even see her when she can receive visitors. I’m not making excuses for Pamela or for you for whatever sins you’ve committed, but I would have hoped that I raised compassionate children.”
“You did, Mother. I love you,” I said as I hung up and got on my knees and began to pray for the first time in a long while.
4
__________________
I started my session with Dr. Few with a question I hoped she could answer. How could I be forty and my life be such a mess? Just like most shrinks, Dr. Few answered with a question.
“What do you feel is wrong with your life?”
“I think moving to New York was a mistake,” I said.
“Why?”
“I just feel really lonely here. My best friends Jared and Nicole moved before I even got here, and it looks like Basil is going to stay in Atlanta.”
“How does that make you feel?”
“What? Jared and Nicole?”
“Let’s talk about Basil.”
“Let’s not,” I said with a faint laughter.
Dr. Few just looked at me for a few minutes and then I started to speak.
“I don’t think I want to admit that I miss Basil. It’s not like we spent a lot of time together, but I figured that might change. Then Rosa, the mother of Basil’s child, dashed off with his daughter, and Basil was history.”
“Have you told him how you feel?”
“What do you mean?”
“That you miss him.”
“He’d just brush it off. Basil doesn’t want to deal with his feelings about me, and I think that’s best.”
“Why?”
“I can’t compete with the two ladies in his life. I mean, if that’s what I wanted, I would have stayed in Seattle and fought for Trent.”
“Why didn’t you?”
I thought for a few minutes and then said, “I think deep in my heart Trent would have been unfaithful again. I know it sounds like a fairy tale, but I still want to believe that I can fall in love with someone who would love me only and that love would be enough to sustain the person when temptations appear. That’s why I love women so much. They never give up on that dream.”
“Then why should you?”
“I’m getting old. Maybe my time has passed.”
“Forty isn’t old,” Dr. Few said.
“I certainly don’t plan to bow out without a fight. Now that I’m working out on a regular basis, I think I might have four to five more years where men and women would find me attractive.”
“So being attractive is important to you?”
“I know it sounds vain, but if I was totally honest with myself I would say yes. My father is a good-looking man, but I remember when he was forty he looked old to me. I know Kirby and I have been blessed with good genes. When I tell people I’m forty, they seem shocked. I still have the things in life people deem important. I’m smart and I have a little money. Being light-skinned with green eyes doesn’t hurt. I know it’s sad, but it doesn’t seem to matter when people look at me as if I were an ax murderer, a woman beater, or an asshole like Davis. All I have to do is smile or blink and people are drawn to me, both men and women. Women, they know why they are attracted to me, but men, even straight men, are dumbfounded, but they still come. I know they don’t all want to sleep with me, but they want something. I’ve had straight black men tell me they’re attracted to me because I’m smart or they think I’m smart. I find myself wondering if black men bought in to the notion that black men are dumb and if you speak the King’s English and are attractive that you’re smart.”
“So it’s a mixed blessing.”
“It is, but I’m not going to stop working out with Sebastian. I need him now more than ever,” I said.
“Sebastian?” Dr. Few asked with a quizzical look.
“My brother’s friend who I hired as a trainer. He’s a good kid, but he really pushes me,” I said, laughing as I thought of some of my workout sessions with Sebastian.
“What is the laughter about?”
“I was thinking about Sebastian. I think he’s out to prove to me that he’s not homophobic or just a free spirit,” I said.
“What do you mean?”
“When I was growing up, especially in high school and college, if my boys thought somebody was gay or a little light in the shoes we would always keep our towels wrapped tight when they were around. Even though Sebastian knows I’m gay, he’s the complete opposite. He doesn’t wear underwear or a jock, and he’s quick to rip his clothes off and shower with me after we work out.”
“Does that bother you?”
“Hell no. Sebastian has a great body, and it’s about as close to a sexual experience as I’ve come in a long time.”
“So you’re going to remain celibate?”
“I doubt it. I think it’s just something I’m going through. The grief over a relationship ending. The 9/11 stuff still haunts me, but I know we all have to go on. I don’t want to just have sex. I want to make love and be loved by one person,” I said.
>
“You mentioned Davis, your boss, earlier. How is that going?”
“I can’t figure Davis out. There are times when he seems to be totally in control, but I think he could use a session or two with a good therapist. Sometimes it seems like he’s hiding something. I still don’t understand how he thinks he can mess over Zola and not suffer some repercussions from it.”
“Sometimes powerful men don’t worry about consequences,” Dr. Few said.
“Yeah, I think you’re right.”
Dr. Few put down her pad and pen and told me that this would have to be our last session of the year, since she wouldn’t be back until the end of January 2002. Dr. Few asked how I’d been sleeping and I told her some nights were better than others. Again she asked if I wanted medication and I refused. I was going to do this my way. I started to ask her where she was going but then decided I wasn’t really interested.
“So are you going to see your parents over the holidays?” Dr. Few asked.
“I hope so. I might even rent a car and drive down to Florida. It will give me some time to sort things out. I tell you, if I don’t get my head together before I get down there, my mother will know something is wrong the moment I walk through the door,” I said.
“I hope you have a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. Why don’t we schedule a session the first week of February?”
“That’s cool. You travel safely,” I said.
5
__________________
It was three weeks before Christmas, but Yancey B. decided to present me with a early little holiday cheer. Not only was the diva suing Bling Bling but me as well, to the tune of five million dollars. Yancey B.’s suit stated that my running the story showed malicious intent and that I knew full well that the drug accusation wasn’t true.
Well, this little situation had gone far enough and I wasn’t about to concede. I’d started working on an outline and proposal for a novel I was going to write about the magazine industry and had plans to call Raymond to make sure that wasn’t a violation of my agreement with Davis.
Kirsten still wasn’t returning my calls, but I figured if Yancey sued her as well, then I’d be hearing from her.
A Love of My Own Page 26
