A Love of My Own
Page 31
“That’s her!” Gussie whispered to Raymond. “That’s the woman who was at the clinic.”
Raymond pulled Gussie by the arm and led her out of the conference room. I couldn’t hold myself back; I had to introduce myself to the lady in red.
“Hello, I’m Zola Norwood. You must be Madame Ava.”
“Zola, darling. It’s so nice to meet you in the flesh,” Ava said as she air-kissed me on both cheeks. She took off her hat, placed it on the conference table and suddenly cast a furtive glance in the direction of Yancey B., who was huddled on the opposite end of the table with her lawyers.
“Yancey! Did your phone get cut off? Again?” Ava yelled across the room.
She didn’t respond to Ava, but her eyes glittered with surprise and hatred.
“The bitch is trying to be shady so early in the morning,” Ava whispered to me. “Just wait until I finish with her ass.”
Raymond, Gussie and Chris walked back into the room. Raymond and Chris introduced themselves to Ava and then Chris asked if he could speak with her privately. As Raymond walked over toward Yancey and her lawyers, I grabbed his arm and asked what was going on.
“I think we’ve got problems. I’m going to ask for more time,” Raymond said.
“Why?”
Raymond told me that Gussie was convinced that it was Ava who had been at the clinic. When I asked him how that could be, he said Chris was going to try to find out Ava’s side of the story without letting her know what Gussie had told them.
Raymond walked over to the end of the room and began talking with Yancey and her lawyers. I was beginning to feel like I was a character in some courtroom drama called Law and Disorder.
A few minutes later, Ava burst back into the conference room with Chris trailing.
“I don’t care what that pale white girl said. I have never been to a drug clinic,” Ava said in a very loud voice as she headed to the end of the table where Raymond and Yancey stood. She took a seat and announced, “I’m ready to testify. Where is the judge?”
Yancey pushed one of her lawyers aside and walked toward Ava, demanding to know what she was trying to pull.
“Yancey, whatever are you talking about, dearie? I’m just here to make sure you stop your lies against this lovely young lady,” Ava said as she looked at me and smiled.
Yancey took a deep breath, rolled her eyes and just stared at Ava, demanding to be noticed.
Ava opened her bag, and with full diva flair she rummaged through the contents until she apparently put her hand on whatever she’d been searching for. A sly smile crossed her lips. She pulled out a mirrored compact with a silver-plated tube of lipstick and took her sweet time applying a splash of red to her lips. When she finished, she puckered her lips, admired her image for a second, then snapped the compact shut and looked over at me and said, “I wish I had a daughter as pretty and as smart as you. I mean, running a magazine requires real talent. Every little skinny bitch who wins a beauty contest thinks the world needs her to sing and act.”
“I should have known you were behind this,” Yancey said.
Ava looked at Gussie and said, “Sweetheart, could you pour me a little coffee? Two lumps of sugar and a smidgen of cream.”
“Get it yourself,” Gussie snapped. “We’re not at the clinic anymore.”
“You mean the clinic where Yancey dried out?” Ava asked, sounding amused and enjoying the fact that everyone in the room was looking at her.
Raymond turned his back and started speaking with Yancey and her lawyers. I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but they were listening intently.
“When are we going to get started? I have a plane waiting for me,” Ava said.
Raymond turned around, moved toward Ava and bent down and asked, “Mrs. Middlebrooks, are you okay? Can I get a doctor for you?”
“What are you talking about? I don’t need a doctor. Do you need me to get a man for you? Maybe you need a little dick before we get started,” Ava said as she exploded into a hearty laughter.
“Stop this shit, Ava! Just stop it! I told you I wanted you out of my life, and I meant it. Is this your little trick to get my attention? If it is, then it won’t work. I want you out of here. Leave me alone. Forever. Please, for the love of God,” Yancey begged.
“You ungrateful bitch,” Ava screamed as she stood and reached over and slapped Yancey. The impact sounded like thunder. “I should have done that a long time ago,” Ava said.
Yancey’s lawyers rushed to her side, and as she rubbed her face, she pushed them back, moved over to Ava and slapped her back, then pulled her hair while shouting, “You evil bitch!”
One of her lawyers pulled Yancey back, and Raymond tried to move Ava away from her daughter.
Yancey started crying, and in a rapid tumble of words she continued screaming at Ava. “Just leave me alone. Leave me the fuck alone.”
“I’ll leave you alone all right,” Ava said as she picked up her purse and started rummaging through it again. I looked at Raymond and I suddenly saw his eyes double in size. He grabbed Yancey and then in a flash I heard the sound of a gun. One shot. Then another. Pow, like the sound of a firecracker. Both Gussie and I screamed and Yancey’s eyes were dazed with shock and then I saw Raymond fall to the floor.
“Someone call 911,” Chris yelled.
I rushed over to Raymond, and it seemed all the color had faded from his face. His eyes were wide open, and blood gurgled from his mouth like it was coming from a boiling pot.
“Raymond, hold on. We’re getting help,” I said as I kneeled down beside him. Raymond’s eyes closed and I feared the worst.
He didn’t answer, and I heard people saying things like “Hold his head up. Call 911,” and finally I heard Yancey scream, “Stop that bitch. She’s trying to get away.”
14
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I felt a gentle touch and opened my eyes from a deep sleep and saw my mother’s face, which looked both lovely and sad. I wanted to ask her where I was and why she was here, but I couldn’t speak. There were tubes in my mouth and my body felt sore on the damp, cold sheets.
I looked around and realized I was in a hospital. My father sat close by and his deeply lined face was blank, and I thought I saw tears in the corners of his eyes.
“How are you feeling, baby?” my mother asked in a sweet, lullaby voice.
“You know he can’t talk,” my father said.
I closed my eyes and tried to remember what had happened. I remembered seeing the lady in red pointing a gun and thinking I should grab it, and then something that felt like fire entered my body and exploded. I felt like I was on fire and a liquid that moved slow as honey was traveling through me.
My head felt as if it had been disconnected from my body and was floating around like a single snowflake looking for a place to fall.
I remembered dreams that went on for days. I dreamed of my mother and how she would sneak me ice cream after Pops had said I could only have one scoop when I was nine years old.
I dreamed of being with my father after my first Peewee football game and the smile on his face when my team won and I scored a touchdown. I remembered the two of us stopping for corn dogs and how I got mustard all over my uniform and Pop’s car.
I had visions of the people I had loved in my life; Sela, my high school love, smiling and cheering me on with two ponytails swaying back and forth. Then Nicole and I having a picnic by a huge lake and the happiness we felt when Jared joined us.
I had a memory of racing into a moonlit ocean and having Kelvin, the first man I had fallen in love with, chasing me and calling my name. The waves crashed over him, and when they died down, there was Trent, smiling and holding open his arms. When I moved toward him, another wave rose, and suddenly he was gone. I was swimming deeper in the ocean, looking for Kelvin and Trent, but I grew tired when I couldn’t find them.
When I raced to the shore, exhausted, I bumped into Basil, wearing gold swimming trunks that had memorized every par
t of his body. He was smiling and he was holding a white beach towel. Basil walked toward me and wrapped my body in the towel and his massive arms. The two of us walked slowly down the shore and watched the moon disappear and be replaced by a beautiful morning sun. The depth of my dreams was like nothing I had ever experienced. I felt as if I could have dreamed forever if there hadn’t been a strong force pulling me back to reality.
“When do you think he’s going to be able to eat regular food?” I heard a female voice ask.
I opened my eyes and saw Aunt Mabel and Uncle James standing in the corner of the room. Aunt Mabel opened a plastic box and pulled out something that looked like meat and placed it in her mouth. Mabel is a pear-shaped woman with a love of bad wigs and colorful pantsuits. My uncle, who was wearing a Bama baseball cap and a shapeless bright yellow shirt, had a look of concern on his face as he took off the cap, rubbed his bald head and then put the cap back on.
“Mabel, he’s not going to be eating food for a while,” my mother said.
“I hope they put something in that tube of his, like some liquid protein or maybe some chitterling juice. You don’t want him wasting away. People back home will see him and won’t believe that he got shot. They’ll think he got that disease that causes folks to lose weight,” Aunt Mabel said.
I noticed my pops shake his head and roll his eyes.
“Why are you looking at me like that? Ray Jr. is still funny that way, ain’t he?”
“Look, woman, you need to go and take your food talk to the cafeteria or the waiting room. We need to let some of Raymond’s other friends come in here and say hello,” Pops said.
“But we’re family,” Aunt Mabel protested.
“Mabel, you heard Raymond. Come on, now,” Uncle James said.
When Aunt Mabel and Uncle James left the room, Pops looked over at my mother and said, “And you wanted to spend Christmas with them?”
My mother pulled a chair close to my bed and placed her hand on the side of my face and started an endless stream of soft, comforting words: “Don’t worry, baby, everything is going to be fine. You’re in God’s hands and he loves you and he knows how to heal you. Your father and I will be here for as long as we need to. Kirby is on the way, and Trent is waiting in the cafeteria. We knew you’d wake up eventually. We love you so much.”
I looked at my mother and father and the sadness on their faces, and I was scared and wondered why I couldn’t talk. I thought about my life, my dreams, and tears started pouring out of the sides of my eyes, and I didn’t have the will or muscles to stop crying.
My mother wiped the tears from the left side of my face with a towel, while Pops wiped the right side with his hands.
“Don’t worry, son. You’re going to be fine,” my pops said.
The door opened and a nurse came in with a lovely bouquet. She was followed by an attractive black man who was wearing a white coat and carrying a clipboard. When he came close to my bedside, I read Dr. Smith on his coat.
“So you finally woke up. I understand you’re a lawyer, so you probably needed the rest,” he said with a peaceful smile.
“Why can’t he talk, Doctor?” Pops asked.
“Raymond has what is referred to as transient ischemia of the cord. The bullet nicked his spinal cord. The condition should be temporary, and hopefully in a couple of days he’ll be able to talk again. Right now all he needs to do is rest,” Dr. Smith said.
“Is he in pain?”
“He’s probably sore from the surgery. But I can give him something to make him as comfortable as possible. Can you two come outside with me? I have a couple of things to talk with you about, and while your son can’t talk, his hearing is still intact.”
I looked at my parents and then at the soft, muted light from the ceiling, and I closed my eyes. I felt my mother kiss my forehead, and then another kiss that I assumed was Pops from the brush of hair I felt on my skin.
I guess I must have fallen asleep again, but when I opened my eyes I couldn’t remember any of my dreams. I smelled a familiar scent, so I moved my eyes to the left and saw Trent sitting in a chair. He was asleep.
Trent looked the same way on so many mornings when I would wake up before him and just gaze at him, looking at his face, handsome and peaceful. A nurse walked into the room with more flowers, and Trent jumped up. Our eyes met briefly as Trent stood and walked over to the edge of my bed.
“Mr. Tyler is the most popular patient on the ICU floor,” the nurse said.
Trent gave her a polite smile. When she left, he gently rubbed my arms, which were cold and covered with goose bumps.
“I let you out of my sight and you come to New York and become the big hero. You’ve been on television all across the country. People are talking about how you dived in front of Yancey B. and saved her life and most likely several other people’s. I know your parents are proud of you, and of course I am too,” Trent said. When he spoke, his voice was low and unsteady.
“I’ve always been proud of you. I know this might not be the time to tell you, but I’m sorry. I think I treated your love lightly because I was insecure. I always thought one day you’d leave me. I realize my actions hurt you deeply, because you haven’t told your parents we broke up and I know how close to them you are. I was surprised when your father called me with the news of the shooting and offered to pay my way to New York because he knew you’d need me. Don’t worry, I didn’t let him buy my ticket or tell them we’ve broken up and that I’m married. You tell them when you feel it’s right.”
I began to stare at the ceiling and wished I could talk so I could tell Trent that although I appreciated his being there I didn’t need him to feel sorry for me. I knew that it wasn’t my fault that he couldn’t be the lover he pretended to be. I wanted to tell him I wished him and his new family well and that I would survive. I was a Tyler man.
“Are you comfortable? Oh shit, how stupid can I be, the doctor told me you can’t talk. It seems like you’ve made a lot of friends since you’ve been in New York. I met Zola, and she’s really worried about you. I met some of her friends and Davis McClinton. I saved some of the newspaper clippings with pictures of you. It seems Yancey B. is grateful as well. I saw her on E! and Access Hollywood. They even talked about you on The View and BET Tonight.”
Trent’s monologue was making me tired, so I closed my eyes and counted to one hundred, but he continued talking. When I heard him say he had met Basil and how Basil had been at the hospital a couple of times, I had to concentrate on not opening my eyes and suppressing my smile at the mention of Basil.
For the next four days my family and friends must have felt as if I were a member of the clergy since I couldn’t talk and all I could do was listen. Didn’t they know that if and when my voice returned there was nothing to keep me from repeating some of the things they shared?
Zola dropped by and told me the shooting had brought her back together with her best friend, Justine, who had shown up at the hospital when she heard of the shooting on the radio involving Yancey B. and Bling Bling personnel. Zola also told me that Yancey B. had dropped the lawsuit and how I needed to get well because her friend Kai was having an Oscar party as a kickoff for Zola’s new magazine, Urban Soul. Zola added that she wasn’t worried about her agreement with Davis because it was probably going to take three years to raise the funds she needed.
Davis surprised me by telling me he didn’t know how or when he would correct some of the mistakes he’d made. He didn’t mention Zola or Sebastian, but he seemed sincere.
Some of Trent’s confessions made me uncomfortable. He told me how much he loved being around his children but he thought his new wife had the wrong impression about his financial situation. She had the notion that she wouldn’t have to work another day in her life, despite the fact that he explained the reason he and I were able to live in the neighborhood we did was that we were a two-income household. Trent said she didn’t want to hear about his life before her and became a nervous wreck anytime
he spent more than an hour at the gym and didn’t want him to come to New York. He told me he wanted to stay and make sure I was going to be fine, but he had to get back home.
Chris, Debi and their son Luc came, and Chris offered me not only a job but a place to stay. When Chris and Debi found out that my parents, Aunt Mabel and Uncle James were staying in a hotel, they insisted my family stay in their rambling apartment on Central Park West.
Kirby and Sebastian showed up on New Year’s Day and watched football games and shot the breeze like nothing had happened. It was the first time I realized I’d missed Christmas. When they got ready to leave, Kirby popped back into my room and said, “You know you can’t scare me like this anymore. I’m a man now, and we don’t like to cry, even for our big brothers who mean more than anything in the world. I love you, Ray-Ray.” Kirby was wrong about men crying, and he came over and hugged me tight. Tears rolled down my face, and I felt wetness on my neck where Kirby had buried his face.
The friends and flowers continued into the New Year, but still no word from Basil. I assumed he had returned to Atlanta. Jared and Nicole came to New York for a quick “hello” but could only stay overnight. Nicole was on her way to London to direct Dreamgirls, and Jared wanted to get back to their kids. They suggested that I consider moving back to Atlanta, or at the very least coming and staying with them while healing and sorting out my life.
A week later, Dr. Smith came into my room and told me that I was doing well, my voice would return soon and I would be transferred out of ICU.
I was happy about my prognosis and I was hopeful that I was going to be released in a couple of days, even though I didn’t know what I was going to do when I got out.
My left side was a little sore, and Dr. Smith had told me to use a cane for a couple of weeks. I was searching around the room for the cane when I heard the door open and smelled the strong scent of masculinity.