by Kitt, Sandra
Alex could see the hesitation. “I have an old-fashioned rubber kewpie doll for Megan. She doesn’t have to worry about dressing it. The clothing was painted on.”
Dallas laughed, still examining the blue bottle … and inordinately pleased with it. “What about Valerie?” she questioned carefully.
Alex pursed his lips. Should he tell her that he hadn’t found anything that he thought would satisfy Valerie? Or should he lie and make something up? “I have this little ceramic cat with a real bell attached around the neck. Think she’ll like it?”
Dallas wasn’t sure. Valerie wasn’t terribly sentimental. She was the kind to equate collectible with junk. She might not see Alex’s gesture as romantic but odd.
“It has a Tiffany stamp on the bottom,” Alex added.
Dallas grinned. “She’ll love it.” She began to rewrap the bottle. “I don’t know what to say besides thank you.”
“That’s enough. I’m glad you like it.”
“You didn’t have to meet me for lunch just to give me this.”
Alex reached inside the other jacket pocket. This time he withdrew a magazine. “Wait … there’s more.” He placed it in front of her.
Dallas put the wrapped bottle in her purse, and turned her attention to the magazine. “This is a copy of last month’s issue of Soul of the City. This is my article.”
“Will you autograph it for me?” Alex asked.
Dallas was again caught off guard. He’d purchased the magazine. He’d actually read it. “You want my … autograph?”
“I really enjoy your style and what you have to say. It’s really interesting.”
Dallas chuckled wryly. “Is that a euphemism for you don’t understand what I’m talking about?”
“You think because you write for a black publication and maybe a black audience that I won’t understand? What’s the difference between black women who wear fancy hairdos with braids and the women in Bensonhurst who still wear big hair? What’s the difference between black women bringing up kids alone and white women bringing up kids alone?”
Dallas could only stare openly at Alex. Not because he’d questioned her point of view, but because he had seen that in many cases there was a very slim line of differences separating people … beyond cultural ones we make up.
He leaned across the table again. “You know what I think? You and I are a lot alike. We’re both trying to figure out where we belong, but we also just want people to accept us, no questions asked, no judgment passed. When someone calls me a bastard, it’s true. But that’s a technicality, isn’t it?”
“What do you mean?”
He lifted a shoulder. “Someone calls you a nigger, is that true?”
Dallas shook her head slowly, watching him. She heard him say the word and wasn’t offended. Perhaps because she knew with a deep certainty that Alex would never refer to her in that way.
“There is a difference. No one has to know that you’re … illegitimate. Someone looks at me, and they immediately have an opinion. They draw a conclusion because of the way I look.”
“I know that’s been a problem …”
She frowned. “How do you know that?”
Alex realized at once that he’d almost tipped his hand. He wasn’t ready to do that yet. But if he wanted her to continue to trust him, he had to give her something she could feel comfortable with. “For one thing, what Nick used to say, and the way he treated you. For another … Val.”
Dallas blinked at him. Of course, Val. But how much had she said to him about her? Dallas didn’t get a chance to ask. Alex seemed to be able to read her blank expression.
“I know about your family and when you moved into the neighborhood. I …” he hesitated. How far should he go? “I know about your parents … your real mother.”
Dallas averted her attention. But it’s not as if any of it needed to be a secret. Still, Alex’s knowing so much made her feel naked. There was nothing for her to hide behind beyond her pride, and the hope that, unlike other people, what he knew he wouldn’t hold against her.
Alex looked down at the table suddenly, using a fingertip to smooth out a crease in the white tablecloth. He glanced up at her finally from beneath the hood of his eyes, through the dark lashes. “I, ah, I also know that you were married.” He hesitated. “That … you had a miscarriage.”
Dallas blushed and let her annoyance come to the surface. “Valerie had no right …”
“I asked her. Valerie is your friend, and she’d never say anything that she thought was out of line.”
“Well, if you wanted to know, why didn’t you ask me?” Dallas questioned him.
He conceded with a nod. “You’re right. I should have. I guess I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about that.”
Dallas could find no real reason to fault either Alex or Valerie. While she wasn’t sure of Val’s reasons for revealing so much, Dallas hoped that Alex’s interest wasn’t just superficial. That the discussion about herself between them didn’t amount to mere gossip one evening.
“Look, I wanted to cut to the chase. There was a lot I didn’t know about you,” he confessed. “Which seemed sort of strange, after all we’ve been through … together. You know what I’m talking about.”
His voice had become soft and quiet. His gaze drifted past her, not focusing on anything except his own thoughts. “I went into the service not to see the world, but because I thought I had to prove something. To Vin. To myself. He probably never even thought that my mother would get pregnant when they were together. So when I showed up out of nowhere, it was like … how could this have happened? He didn’t want it to be true. I didn’t blame him for what happened, and my mother didn’t either. But I wanted him to accept me. I really wanted him to be my father.”
“So you thought you could make yourself … worthy of his love?” Alex nodded. “I guess it hasn’t worked?”
He smiled grimly. “Not really. Maybe Vin thinks that if he accepts me he’ll have to acknowledge my mother. Maybe he thinks Lillian won’t be that understanding. Maybe … maybe he just really doesn’t care.”
Dallas looked at the bowed silver head. She could hear in Alex’s voice the regret of that possibility. “I don’t know, Alex. I don’t get it, either. You’re so much more of a son, more of a man, than Nicholas ever was. Vin should be so proud of you. Lillian loves you very much … as if you were her son, too. Vin should be thanking God for you …” She stopped when she saw first surprise and then amusement in his eyes.
“Do you really believe that?” he asked.
“Yes,” she responded, and looked up to meet his pensive stare.
“I’ll take that,” he said cryptically. “I could do a lot worse.”
“What about Valerie?”
Alex stiffened imperceptibly. “What about her?”
“Doesn’t she agree with me?” She watched him relax again, knowing that she’d come dangerously close to asking about their relationship. It was none of her business.
Alex shrugged. “Valerie sees … something else in me. If she thinks I’m wonderful, she’s keeping it to herself. She’s more concerned with how I feel about her … and Megan.”
Dallas became uncomfortable again. “I don’t think I want to go there,” she murmured.
He shook his head. “No, you don’t. So … what are you going to write next?”
She smiled shyly. “A book, apparently.”
“For real? That’s cool. What’s it going to be about?”
“Anything I want. The editor wants my articles expanded and given more depth. About what life is like from where I stand.”
“You mean, being half white and half black?”
Dallas was taken a little aback. It was unsettling to have Alex speak his mind so bluntly. He wasn’t judging her. And what she was didn’t seem to matter as much as who she was.
“Yeah, that’s right.”
Alex gnawed the inside of his lip. He looked furtively at Dallas, quickly assessing the moment and
her. “You’re going to need this, then. It might give you some ideas …” Once again Alex reached into his pocket and pulled out one more item. He silently passed it to her across the table.
Dallas recognized the notebook immediately. She looked at Alex. She had no idea what to say to him. How did he get her journal? How long had he had it? Had he read it?
“I found it the day we helped Lillian in the basement of the house. It was with Nick’s things.” He continued to hold the book out, but Dallas made no move to take it. Alex sighed. “I started to give it back to you, but … when I saw what it was, I decided to hold on to it for a while. I read it, Dallas. I’m … sorry. I shouldn’t have. But at the time it seemed the way to find out more about you. Stuff I knew Valerie might not know, or wouldn’t tell me. I took advantage of the opportunity.”
Dallas still couldn’t find her voice. She had wondered for years what had happened to her journal. Had Nicholas found it … or had Lillian? No. Lillian would certainly have said something. She had lived with knowing that her adolescent concerns were somewhere out there in the world for a stranger to see. Dallas didn’t know what to make of Alex being the one to have found it. To have read it. He wasn’t a stranger. But she couldn’t help feeling a profound vulnerability that threatened to reduce her to that adolescent insecurity once again. She just sat there.
“Go on. Take it,” Alex whispered, wishing Dallas would say something, even if she got really angry at him. “I figure you were about thirteen or fourteen when you wrote this. Even then you were a good writer. I learned a lot, Dallas. I really understood where you were coming from. I could relate.”
“Sorry it took so long,” the breathless waitress said, arriving with two plates balanced on her left forearm and holding a third in her free hand. She unceremoniously leaned in between them to put the dishes down. “Excuse me …”
Dallas quickly took the notebook, ignoring the chatty waitress’s apologies. When she’d finished serving, she stood looking back and forth between them.
“Can I get you anything else?”
Alex merely shook his head.
Dallas put the notebook in her lap. She picked up her fork to start on the salad. “Thank you,” she quietly murmured.
The waitress nodded with a smile and walked away.
Alex carefully lifted his burger. “You’re welcome,” he answered with great relief.
Maureen sucked her teeth. “There’re no more seats,” she muttered as she glanced around the filled auditorium.
“That’s because we’re late. They probably started with all kinds of introductions anyway. We didn’t need to sit through all of that. You would have gotten bored,” Dallas said in a whisper, also glancing around as she looked for empty seats.
They stood just inside the doorway of the theater. There were several people on the stage that included the director of the film department at NYU, and four of the currently hot new black directors who’d produced successful screenplays in the past six months.
Dallas leaned toward Maureen. “I think we’re going to have to split up, unless you don’t mind sitting way in the back on the side.”
“That’s okay. Then if I don’t like the program I can sneak out.”
“I was lucky to get these tickets. You will not sneak out on me. I had to give up my passes to another writer from the magazine. She should be here to cover this.
“Besides, if we hadn’t stopped to buy you shoes …” Dallas reminded Maureen. She hated to be late, but had accommodated her friend as they’d finished dinner and headed toward the university campus across Third Street.
“They’ll be perfect with my wedding dress. I can’t believe my luck. I had to get them …”
“Ssshhh!” someone nearby voiced at their whispered conversation.
Maureen sucked her teeth again. “It’s so dark I can’t even see anything.”
“Let’s just stand here for a moment. I think these are introductions and they should be over soon. They’ll put the lights up for a few minutes before starting the film. We’ll look for something then.”
Maureen sighed. “I’m going to find someplace where I can have a quick cigarette. I’ll come back …”
Dallas nodded as Maureen left her. Sometimes she didn’t know why she bothered. She would never have heard the end of it if Valerie had come with her to the evening lecture and Maureen had found out. It had never been so much jealousy as competition between Val and Maureen, Dallas knew. But she still hated being in the middle as they vied over being her best friend. She had asked Dean to attend the lecture, but he had claimed a prior date with his new girlfriend. So Dallas stood alone for the next fifteen minutes, until the opening comments had been made and the next part of the program was about to get under way.
The auditorium lights went up as the panel left the stage and the tables and chairs were removed. Some people took the opportunity to shift about. Dallas located two empty seats and commandeered them for her and Maureen. She looked around, now seeing and recognizing any number of people she knew.
“What are you doing here?”
Dallas turned at the question and found herself facing Nona.
“Are you spying on me?” she said flippantly.
Dallas ignored the bait. “I was able to get more tickets. How’s the program so far? I just got here with a friend.”
Nona grinned. “Not with your boyfriend?”
“You mean Burke? No. He couldn’t have made it anyway.”
“Is that what he told you?”
Dallas frowned. “What do you mean by that?”
“I’m not trying to start anything, but some men you have to keep on a short leash.”
“Dallas …”
The two women turned their attention to Maureen as she reappeared, pushing her way through the milling crowd to reach them.
“Maureen, do you remember Nona? She works with me at—”
“Yeah, hi. Dallas, did you know that—”
Nona chuckled. “I don’t think she does. Excuse me. I don’t want to be around to see the fur fly on this. Bye.”
Dallas watched Nona walk away, and then frowned at Maureen. “I don’t get it.”
Maureen sighed and looked helpless. “You will. Are you sure you want to stay for this? If it’s all the same to you, Dallas, I’d rather go find someplace to have a drink …”
“Hi, Dallas. I was just asking … ooops.”
Dallas turned her head to the new person next to her. He was an actor she’d met through Dean, who’d tried to set up a date between them. Until Dean had found out that Bruce was gay.
“Bruce … hey,” she said. “I knew you’d be here. I just saw …” and she stopped.
Maureen sighed in annoyance. “Oh, shit.”
Dallas glanced over Bruce’s shoulder because she saw someone who was familiar. The body language and tilt of the head. The hand gestures. It was Burke. And suddenly Nona’s sly comment, and Bruce’s utterance, and even Maureen’s suggestion that they do something else began to make sense.
He was seated near the front of the theater with a very attractive black woman next to him. He had his arm around the back of her seat, his fingers amorously stroking her neck. They were in private conversation, unconcerned with others around them.
Which is what hurt most of all, Dallas decided. Not that Burke was obviously involved with the woman, but that he didn’t even have enough respect for her to be discreet among people who would know both of them.
Bruce cleared his throat. “Well … it was, er, nice to see you. I’ll be in touch,” he said, turning away into the crowd.
“Come on. Let’s get out of here …”
Dallas grabbed Maureen’s arm. “No. I want to stay.”
“Dallas, everyone is going to—”
“I know. And they’re going to do it whether I stay or leave. So, I’m staying. I have to show that this doesn’t matter. Burke and I don’t belong to each other. There was no commitment, no promises.”
“Are you telling me that you don’t care? The man is acting like an asshole,” Maureen exclaimed.
She did care, but that was not the point. “I know a lot of people here. Many of them also know Burke. If I leave, it looks like he won. I’m embarrassed. Put down. If I stay …”
“You win?” Maureen asked skeptically.
Dallas refused to look in Burke’s direction again. Sooner or later before the evening was over, someone was going to point out to him that she was there. She shook her head and prepared to sit down and finish out the program. Maureen reluctantly sat down next to her.
“I don’t win. But I don’t lose anything, either.”
Chapter Eleven
On the news recently there was a report of a woman who had been arrested for the death of her four-year-old daughter. The mother was accused of having locked the little girl in a room for almost a year, denying her food and water until slowly, the child starved to death. We were spared accompanying photographs of the little girl, but I envision a child curled up on a floor, alone and neglected with no idea of what was happening to her. Or why. Unwanted and unloved, wasting away because her mother might have hoped that she would just disappear. We were shown the mother being led away in handcuffs; calm, blank, silent, and unremorseful. And we are told she has five other children and is pregnant with another. When asked how could she mistreat her own daughter the mother answered, because she didn’t like the child. That was the reason. That was enough to make her feel righteous. I couldn’t help but wonder why killing her little girl was so much easier to do than giving her up to someone else who might have cared for her. Why wasn’t this child worthy of love?
DALLAS HAD ALREADY FIGURED out this was not a date. It was more like she was just along for the ride to even out the numbers. Ross was one of the most even-tempered, good-natured men she’d ever met, but he didn’t seem the least interested in her beyond pleasant dinner companionship. Dallas felt exactly the same way. And she had never dated a white man before.
In any case, for the moment she wasn’t interested in dating anyone. Dallas swiveled her head from one person to another as the conversation was carried on around her. But she did not participate and knew she was probably terrible company. Her mind kept drifting back to earlier in the week and the revelation of Burke with another woman. Dallas had no idea how she felt about it. The only thing she knew for sure was that she was tired of trying to figure out what Burke wanted from her.
