The Other Side Of the Game

by Anita Doreen Diggs

  I had to laugh when she laid out her terms: The meeting was to take place at some restaurant in Manhattan and dinner plus drinks were on me. I got there fifteen minutes early, scoped out the place and took a seat way in the back near the kitchen door. No-man’s land. Far from the other customers who would not be able to overhear our conversation.

  She glided in wearing a pants suit that probably cost more than I made in a month. The woman was the spitting image of her mother—physically that is. Their personalities could not have been more different. If Lola had had even a quarter of Asha’s self-confidence and bring-it-straight-or-don’t-bring-it-at-all braggadocio, she would be alive today. And Yero . . . he looked lost.

  “How are y’all doing?” I asked after they sat down.

  They both just glowered at me, saying nothing.

  I motioned toward a waitress.

  “Is anybody drinking?”

  “I don’t want anything to eat or drink,” Yero said crisply. “Just tell me what happened between you and Saundra. Then I’m outta here.”

  Asha picked up a menu. “I’ll have a cosmopolitan. Also the French onion soup.”

  It was all I could do not to smile. Asha would always be primarily about Asha.

  I knew that if I had a drink of anything alcoholic, the meeting would turn into a disaster. Yero clearly wanted to take a swing at me and if I wasn’t a cop, he would have done it already. Sober, I was willing to take one punch. Drunk, I would hurt the poor boy.

  “I’ll have a ginger ale and a steak, well done, with the rice pilaf.” I said.

  We all stared at each other.

  “Talk man,” Yero growled.

  “Okay, but I need you to hear me out. From beginning to end. I’m about to go way back. To a place called Dayton, Ohio.”

  They looked at each other and then back at me.

  I took a deep breath and started with the story of Willie, the little boy I liked in the first grade.

  By the time the food arrived, I was telling them both about my early days in New York, right before I took the police exam.

  Asha looked shocked. I couldn’t read Yero’s expression.

  When the waitress left, I threw my hands up in exasperation. “Will one of y’all say something?”

  “What does all this have to do with Saundra?” Yero asked.

  There was nothing to do but continue. By the time I got to the part where Saundra walked in on me and Hugo, the steak in front of me was cold. Asha had downed two more drinks and Yero’s expression had softened.

  “And now I’ve lost the only family I had left.”

  Yero shook his head. “Saundra still loves you, man. She just had you up on a pedestal and you fell off. It’s a shame that it had to come out like that. You should have told her the truth a long time ago. In fact, she should have grown up knowing the truth about you.”

  Asha shook her head. “I just cannot believe that I’ve been through all this bullshit just because you and Hugo turned out to be gay. It’s unbelievable! Saundra’s supposed to be all about people accepting each other for who they are. She’s supposed to be Miss Peace and Love! To tell you the truth, I feel like kicking her crybaby ass. What a hypocrite!”

  “Ah, the sounds of compassion,” I said dryly.

  Asha wiped her mouth and pushed back her chair. “That’s real fucked up what you did to Evelyn, man. I’ll save my compassion for her.”

  “So what now?” I asked.

  Asha’s voice dripped with contempt. “You broke Saundra’s heart but you won’t ruin her life. I have to get Yero and Saundra together and put this wedding back on track. You go back to Hugo and do whatever you were doing. I’m leaving.”

  I watched them walk away, hoping that someone would find some forgiveness in their heart. It would be nice to watch Saundra get married.

  Chapter 50

  ASHA

  Saundra didn’t want to hear Phil’s story but I made her ass sit still and listen. She didn’t comment on any of it but a few days later, she approached me and apologized for anything she had done to offend me. I was cool with that. Then she said that we were too different to live under the same roof and make it work. I silently agreed with that. But when she hit me with the news that she wasn’t going back to school, that she was going to get a job and her own place, something had to be done.

  I called Yero and told him that I’d be in Houston with Nick on Christmas day and that he should come over and talk some sense into Saundra.

  “She’ll tell the doorman that I can’t come up,” he answered miserably.

  What a wuss. A nice, hardworking guy. But still a wuss.

  “Yero, pay attention. Every woman wants to be with her lover on the major holidays. When a woman is alone on Valentine’s Day, Christmas, or New Year’s Eve, her biggest fantasy is that the man she cares about will ring that bell and take her in his arms. It usually only happens in the movies but you need to man up and go get your woman back.”

  “Man up?” he bristled. “She dumped me!”

  I couldn’t help sighing. “Yero, do you want to debate me or marry Saundra?”

  “Marry Saundra,” he muttered.

  “Then shut up and listen. Buy her a present, preferably jewelry. Buy her some candy and flowers. Bring all that good shit and yourself to my apartment on Christmas morning.”

  “What if you’re wrong and I just make a fool of myself in front of the doorman again?”

  My patience was wearing thin. This guy had no imagination at all. But then, neither did Saundra. These two definitely deserved each other. “Meet me in front of Madison Square Garden tomorrow morning at nine o’clock. I’m going to loan you my house keys. I’ll explain the situation to the doorman so that if Saundra says no, you can go on up anyway. But I promise you that she’ll open that door.”

  Chapter 51

  SAUNDRA

  Christmas Day was unseasonably warm. After an unsuccessful attempt at meditation and with no animals to play with, I turned on the news and heard that it was an astonishing sixty degrees outside. I decided to stay in my nightgown for the whole day. What was the point of showering? Why bother to get dressed? No company was coming over and I didn’t even plan to answer the phone for fear of having to hang up on Phil. I figured that poor Evelyn was even more miserable than I was.

  I was watching The Honeymooners marathon and eating celery sticks when the doorman buzzed.

  “There’s a Yero Brown here to see you, miss.”

  I didn’t hesitate for a second. “Send him up, please.”

  It had been far too long since I’d seen my honey. Without thinking, I flew out of the apartment and stood in front of the elevator. The door opened and there he stood.

  He looked beaten, shocked, and grief-stricken.

  “Yero!”

  A smile spread across his brown face and the light reentered his eyes. “Saundra!”

  In less than a second, he was holding me, two packages and a bouquet of flowers in his arms. “Baby, baby.”

  His lips covered mine before I could answer. We hugged and kissed for what seemed like eternity.

  “Why did you leave me?” Yero asked.

  “Because I was a fool.”

  He waited for more.

  I wrung my hands. “I don’t know how to say it . . . Phil . . . he . . .”

  Yero held my hands. “I know the whole story. I’m so sorry about that, baby. But why didn’t you come to me? Why Asha?”

  “She’s my sister.”

  Yero sighed. “I still love you, Saundra.”

  I put my arms around his waist. “Yero, I’m sorry.”

  He nuzzled my hair with his chin. “I need more, honey. We both have to understand our breakup and why my shoulder wasn’t the one you chose to cry on.”

  “You’re right.”

  “Saundra,” he whispered.

  “What?”

  “Will you marry me?”

  My body felt weightless and when our lips met again, it felt like we wer
e floating on a cloud.

  We kissed until someone got off another elevator and stared at me, standing there all rumpled and still in my nightgown.

  My hand flew to my mouth. “Yero, I’ve locked us out of the apartment.”

  He winked and grabbed me by the hand. “Don’t worry, Asha gave me the key.”

  Chapter 52

  PHIL

  For six months I prayed that Saundra would bend, just a little. And then one morning I reached into the mailbox and there was only one pale pink envelope in it—an invitation to her wedding. I literally screamed with joy.

  That same day me and my new partner, a good white cop named Andy Byer, with ten years under his belt, were rolling down Guy Brewer Boulevard. We were on our way to check out a tip about a new crystal meth ring that was operating in South Jamaica when we saw this kid run out of a store with an armful of clothes. Since we were traveling in an unmarked car, he didn’t think twice about dashing right in front of us. The kid was black. The man who came tearing out the store after him was Middle Eastern.

  Andy sighed in disgust.

  I knew just what he meant. We had to stop the robbery that was going on right under our noses, but then this pissant one-hundred-dollar case would tie us up in paperwork for half the afternoon.

  We got out and did our thing. The store owner ended up with his gear back. The kid was cuffed in the back of our car.

  Andy started the car up and we were back in business. As we rolled along, I turned around and stared hard into our prisoner’s eyes.

  “How old are you, man?”

  He tried to look tough but I saw the fear in his eyes. “Twelve.”

  “Have you ever been arrested before?”

  “No.”

  “Ever been in a police station?”

  “No.”

  I couldn’t help the groan that escaped. This was one of the happiest days of my life and the last thing I felt like doing was throwing a brand new baby into the maws of the criminal justice system.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Hot Sauce.”

  “Boy, I know damned well your mother didn’t name you Hot Sauce. Now cut the bad-ass act. I want your real name, not some dumb shit they call you in the street.”

  “Dennis Clark.”

  I spoke over my shoulder. “Hey, Andy! Give me a pen and paper.”

  He complied.

  “Now, Dennis Clark, give me your address and phone number.”

  He rattled off the information and I turned back around. “Stop the car!” I yelled at Andy.

  My partner pulled over.

  I got out of the car and opened the back door. When I reached for little Dennis “Hot Sauce” Clark, I truly thought he was going to faint. The little wannabe thug figured he was about to become a victim of police brutality.

  “Dennis, I’m going to take the cuffs off and let you go, but I’m going to keep an eye on you for the next couple of months and if you even breathe wrong, the cuffs go back on. Now, who do you live with?”

  “My mother and my brother.”

  I let him go with a stern warning and prayed that he had been scared enough to stay out of trouble.

  In the meantime, I just wanted to think about my daughter.

  My unrelenting grief over the end of my relationship with both Saundra and Evelyn had caused Hugo and me to break up for good. Funny thing is, I didn’t miss him. Had all that sneaking around created and sustained a false passion between us? I didn’t spend too much time thinking about it after the invitation arrived. That pink envelope meant that I had another chance to be the honest, courageous man that my daughter had always believed me to be. It meant that the door might not be open, but it had cracked a little and I was willing to work long and hard to get it all the way open.

  Chapter 53

  SAUNDRA

  On a hot summer day, I came out of Asha’s bedroom dressed in my A-line, satin wedding gown, which had a top layer of soft netting adorned with hand sewn seed pearls. Asha walked behind me carrying the train, which she then helped me wrap around one arm.

  Nick whistled softly. “You look gorgeous, Saundra.” And he kissed me on the cheek.

  “I still have to pin her hair up and hook the tiara into it,” Asha said. “But she really is a stunning bride.”

  An hour later, I had allowed Asha to talk me into wearing lipstick and it was time to go. Asha and Nick were my attendants and we were riding in a white Rolls Royce. Later on, that same car would take me and my husband to the airport—we were going to honeymoon in Bermuda.

  Asha is the greatest sister in the world. After I stopped speaking to Phil, we still had the Crystal Palace, which he and Hugo had paid for. But there was practically no money to pay for all the extras—dress, cake, cars, satin shoes and all the other niceties that I didn’t know I wanted until Asha dangled them in front of my nose. Asha paid for everything except the rings. The ring bills belonged to Yero.

  I wondered if Phil had received the invitation and whether he would show up. In my own way, I tried not to care but it was hard to erase all the good that he had done. Yes, he should have told me a long time ago that he was gay and he certainly should not have deceived Evelyn. But on the issue of good fathering, there was no question that Phil was the best.

  I told Yero that if Phil showed up, I would ask him to walk me down the aisle.

  We reached Central Park a half hour late. A large group of Mama’s relatives and Yero’s relatives was waiting for my arrival. In the middle of it all was Daddy, taking pictures of everything and everybody in sight.

  It was so good to see him!

  He opened the door before my driver could get out of the car. I smiled up at him and tears filled his eyes as he held out a hand to help me.

  Chapter 54

  ASHA

  Why did Saundra go around digging up all of Mama’s broke-ass, unknown relatives I wondered as I watched a bunch of women with their hair done up in gelled-to-the-max ghetto sculptures. They heaped pasta and chicken on the little appetizer plates like we weren’t going to have a formal sit-down dinner in an hour. One of them was even stuffing fried shrimp in a paper bag that must have been bought for that purpose. Of course they were all loud and soon they were drunk. They’d better enjoy the hell out of themselves because Nick and I are getting married next summer and you can bet your last dollar that these seafood-stealing bitches will not be on the scene. The Seabrook family is already having a fit because he gave me an engagement ring. Seeing this bunch would just kill Nick’s mother outright. And why should I feel guilty? Mama’s family left us to fend for ourselves after she died.

  Saundra and Yero are grinning like they hit the lottery and, yes, I had a lump in my throat during their first dance because this day had come so close to not happening. That would have been a tragedy because they love each other so very, very much. When Phil led Saundra out on the floor for the father/daughter waltz, I actually did cry and Nick dabbed at his eyes, too.

  I wonder how Evelyn is doing. I know that up until the last minute, Saundra was hoping she would show up. I wanted that to happen also for Saundra’s sake. But no one can blame the sister for putting Phil, Saundra, and the whole mess behind her. I just hope she didn’t have a nervous breakdown or something.

  If I had a magic wand, I would wave it around and make Phil a straight up heterosexual and Evelyn would suddenly appear on his arm. They would raise their champagne glasses along with the rest of us to toast Saundra and Yero. But I don’t have one so all I can do is fold myself into Nick’s arms, let him lead me onto the floor for our own dance, and pray that our wedding day is as lovely as this one.

  A CONVERSATION WITH ANITA DOREEN DIGGS

  Q. Evelyn Blake is the unsung heroine of this story. Who or what was your inspiration for this character?

  A. I didn’t have a specific person in mind. She just represents an updated version of the thousands of black women who have made tremendous sacrifices to finish raising children who were not thei
r own.

  Q. What would Lola Smith say to Evelyn if she could?

  A. These two women were certainly too dissimilar to ever become friends or even have more than a short conversation with each other. However, whatever her other failings, Lola did have good manners. She would look Evelyn straight in the eye and simply say “Thank you.”

  Q. Why don’t Asha and Saundra have any close female friends?

  A. Well, Asha doesn’t have any close friends of either gender because she doesn’t really trust anyone but herself. Saundra has Evelyn but she is also one of those women who prefer that their male lover fill the role of confidant. I’m not saying that Saundra is right—it is simply a lifestyle choice. Also, with both these young women, MOTHER is a major unresolved issue. Can you really have deep female friendships if you are angry at your own mother? I really don’t know.

  Q. Is The Other Side of The Game a message novel?

  A. No. I don’t set out to write “message” novels because they usually bore the hell out of the reader. However, by the time I’d finished writing this book, it was clear to me that its theme had something to do with our inability to see our parents as flawed, three-dimensional people. We prefer to keep them in a romanticized cage called “nurturer” and not notice any unfulfilled yearnings they have or forgive them the mistakes they have made.

  Q. Will there be a sequel?

  A. Yes. Nick certainly has his hands full as he tries to mold Asha into the perfect wife. He will want her to be an elegant, well-bred lady by day and a whore in his bed at night. In the sequel, entitled Denzel’s Lips, readers will watch Nick flail about trying to change another human being. We’ll see.

  A READING GROUP GUIDE

  THE OTHER SIDE OF THE GAME

  ANITA DOREEN DIGGS