It was such a beautiful fall day that it almost seemed cruel that Raymond was facing an emotional mountain. When he woke up, Raymond saw a note from his mother telling him she was at the hospital and he should take some time for himself. After eating breakfast alone, he decided to return some phone calls.
He had received bad news from the real estate lawyer in New York, and there had been two urgent messages on his answering machine at home from Lisa, saying she had to speak with him today. It was almost 11:00 A.M. in Chicago, so Raymond knew Lisa would be in her Seattle office. He located her name in his date book, dialed the number, and sipped the last of his lukewarm coffee.
“Lisa Lanier speaking.”
“Lisa, this is Raymond Tyler. How are you doing?”
“I’ve done better. Thanks for calling. I’m afraid I have some more bad news, and we’ve got to act on this right away. Are you still in New York?”
“No, I’m in Chicago,” Raymond said.
“When will you be back in Seattle?”
“That’s up in the air. What’s going on?”
Lisa told Raymond that a Seattle Sun reporter had contacted her office several times inquiring about an alleged arrest for solicitation by Raymond. The reporter wanted to know if that was the reason Raymond’s nomination had been delayed.
“Where did that come from?” Raymond asked.
“Apparently, it’s getting confused with Trent’s arrest. Obviously, this guy hasn’t done all his homework, but now we’re getting calls from the gay newspaper and the African-American paper requesting interviews with you to clear this thing up.”
“And how do you clear up something that’s not true?” Raymond wondered aloud.
“We can hold a press conference denying the charges,” Lisa suggested.
“Isn’t that something your office can do? Why do you need me?”
“Raymond, what are you thinking? Of course you have to be here. You have to look those reporters right in the eye and tell them that it’s just not true.”
Raymond let out a big sigh. “When do you want to do this?”
“We needed to do it yesterday. But no later than tomorrow. Can you be back in Seattle tomorrow afternoon?”
“No, I can’t do that,” Raymond said firmly.
“Raymond, this is important. Are you sure you still want the nomination?”
“Lisa, I really appreciate what you’ve done for me. But the reason I’m in Chicago is because my father had a stroke and he’s still in the hospital. My family needs me right now, and I can’t leave.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that. My mother had a stroke a few years back, so I know it’s tough.” She thought for a moment and then suggested, “Maybe you can make a press release or we could set you up with one of the local Chicago stations and have them feed the press conference back to Seattle. But I want to warn you, this might not be good for Trent.”
“What do you mean?”
“If the reporters keep searching, they may discover the truth. You might need to clarify Trent’s record in any press release or public statement you make,” Lisa said.
“Say what? Tell the city of Seattle that my partner was arrested? There’s no way I can, or would, do that. Trent made a mistake, but he didn’t seek the public eye. That would be unfair to him. So I won’t be making any statement that implicates him in any way,” Raymond said. His tone was clear, confident, and powerful. Raymond’s anger toward Trent had dissipated, leaving a residue of hurt. His mother’s words of advice to forgive echoed in his mind.
“This might be the biggest hurdle of your nomination. I don’t think this is going to blow over,” Lisa said.
“Would that be true if I withdrew my name from nomination?”
“You aren’t going to do that, are you?”
“Look, Lisa, right now my family is the most important thing in the world. And Trent is a part of my family. I won’t subject him to this, so I think I need to prepare a statement withdrawing my name.” He didn’t feel sad, but relieved, like a wall inside him had dissolved. “It looks like the NAACP and Charles Pope will get their wishes,” Raymond said.
“Raymond, why don’t you think this over? I mean, we’ve worked so hard, and I want to see you on the bench. Isn’t this your dream?” Her voice sounded soothing and compassionate.
Raymond thought for a few minutes, then stared at the unmade bed and the breakfast tray on the desk. It was clear to him at that moment he didn’t want to be a judge. Raymond wasn’t even certain he wanted to continue practicing law. He thought of all the years he spent hearing the rain of his dreams, trying to please his father, a man he once dreamed of becoming himself.
“No, Lisa. It was my father’s dream, not mine. I need to get to the hospital, but you’ll get my letter of withdrawal later today by fax. I also want to thank you for all your help, but I know this is the best thing for everyone concerned,” Raymond responded.
“You sound sure,” Lisa said softly.
“I am,” Raymond said. “Good-bye, Lisa.”
Raymond hung up the phone, then picked it back up and dialed Peaches’s number. Having made the decision to withdraw his name, Raymond felt he’d climbed halfway up the mountain. Might as well keep climbing, he thought. Talking to his father and Trent would take him over the top.
“Cuts ’n’ Cobblers, this is Peaches.”
“Peaches, this is Raymond. How are you doing?”
“I’m doin’, baby. What about you? How’s your daddy doing?”
“Well, he’s out of intensive care, but he still can’t speak or walk. The doctor said it’s going to take some time.”
“You tell him and your mother that Peaches is prayin’ for him and I gots me an angel up in heaven who makes sure God gits the word,” Peaches said.
“Thanks, Peaches. But I have some more bad news.”
“What, baby?”
“The attorney for the real estate company left a message saying they rejected our offer. Property up in Harlem is going crazy. Someone has bid $575,000.”
“What? That’s getting close to a million dollars. Baby, I ain’t got that kinda money. What am I going to do?”
“We can look at some other places. As soon as Pops gets better, I’ll come and help you and Enoch find a place where you can have both your home and business,” Raymond said.
“But this is our home. It ain’t fair. Can we make another offer?”
“Sure, Peaches. But even with all your money and what Jared and I can kick in, we can’t come close to that number. Our last offer was only $350,000.”
“Then call them and offer them mo’,” Peaches said firmly.
“What? Where are we going to get the money from?”
“I don’t know right now, but I know this is where I’m ’posed to be, and God wants me here. We’ll figure the rest out later,” Peaches said. “Now I got to go and sell some pies. Thanks, baby.”
“I’ll talk with you soon, Peaches.”
“Raymond?”
“Yes, Peaches?”
“Make the offer.”
“Whatever you say,” Raymond said as he hung up the phone.
Raymond and Kirby walked side by side down the polished tile floor of the hospital corridor. Kirby was wearing tan jeans, his navy-blue shirt was untucked, and he was carrying a leather book bag over his shoulder. The brothers were talking about Kirby’s upcoming game against Michigan when Raymond suddenly stopped walking, grabbed his brother by his broad shoulders, and said, “Have I told you I love you lately?”
Kirby blinked his eyes, smiled, and said, “You don’t have to tell me, I know.”
“How are things with you and Dawn? I know you haven’t been able to spend a lot of time with her.”
“Everything is tight.”
“I think that means everything is going well. Right?”
“See, you can still hang with the young playas,” Kirby teased.
Raymond smiled and then his tone turned serious. “Would you mind if I went in and talked to Pops first? I got some things I want to talk to him about.”
“Sure, but you know he’s still not able to speak. He can’t talk back.”
“That’s the main reason I want to talk to him.” Raymond grinned.
“I get your point,” Kirby said as he shook his head. “I’ve been excused from practice, so I’ll go down to the coffee shop.”
“I’ll come and get you when I’m finished.”
“Don’t be long. Mom and I have cooked up a little surprise for you,” Kirby said with a sneaky smile.
“What kind of surprise?”
“I ain’t talking,” Kirby said as he walked toward the elevators.
Raymond wondered for a moment what surprise Kirby was talking about as he walked toward his father’s room. When he got to the door, he took a deep breath and walked in. His mother, sitting by the bed, much like she had the first night, rose to rush over and hug Raymond.
“Any change?”
“He’s able to drink some stuff out of a straw. But still no movement and no talking. I’ve been waiting on you and Kirby, so I can go and talk to the doctor. I want to take my husband home, even if I have to get a home care attendant to help me every day,” Mrs. Tyler said as she picked up her purse from the windowsill.
“You go talk with Dr. Rodriguez, Mama. I’ll stay here with Pops and then Kirby will come up later.”
“Make sure you’re back at the hotel around seven, okay?”
“Why?”
“Don’t ask questions. Just do what your mother says,” she said, playfully tapping him on his backside.
“Whatever,” Raymond said as he kissed his mother on her cheek.
When his mother left the room, he walked slowly to his father’s bed and sat in the metal folding chair next to the bed’s guardrail. Raymond Sr.’s eyes were closed, but when Raymond Jr. sat down, they opened very slowly. Raymond smiled at his father and studied his tobacco-brown skin, his sad, brownish-green eyes, and the network of lines around the corners of his mouth. Raymond Sr.’s face had a flat expression, like a lake reflecting a winter sky. Raymond gently touched his fine hair, which was more gray than black, and he realized he’d never touched his father’s body in any way with the exception of an occasional hug. He slowly touched his face and was surprised by how soft it was.
Raymond bit his tongue and then his words began to fill the empty silence. “Pops, I know you’re going to get better. I know this might not be the best time, but your stroke has made me realize that I’m not promised another chance like this. I want to start by telling you how much I love you and how proud I am to be your son. And I’ve been really mad at you for the last couple of months, and I’ve been scared. I was afraid that if I told you how angry I was at you, I’d lose your love. And lately I’ve been frightened because I almost lost you.
“When we got into the argument over what I should do with Trent, I started to write you a letter and tell you how I felt. I knew with a letter I could get my point across without you disputing or discounting what I had to say or how I felt. I guess that’s the lawyer in you,” Raymond chuckled.
He took another deep breath and continued. “When you came to Seattle after I was nominated for the bench, I was so happy. Not because of the nomination, but because my father had come to the place I called home. You were proud of me again. You know the last time I remember you being proud of me?” Raymond asked, knowing full well his father couldn’t answer.
“Besides when I graduated from law school, which I don’t know if you were that happy about, since I didn’t go to Howard. It was when I was in high school and was playing football, and when some cheerleader would decorate our yard with toilet paper streamers and signs, and you and I would try and figure out which cheerleader was my secret pal. Remember how we would clean up the yard after the game and then go into the house and watch college games? This was before Kirby was interested in football or hanging out with us. During that time I felt like I was a son you could be proud of. As long as I did what you wanted me to.”
Raymond felt his words may have been harsh but these were his true feelings and he needed to say them. He began to trace his father’s face slowly with his fingertips, wondering how many of the lines he had caused.
“Do you know how hurtful it was when you told me you and mom didn’t raise me to be no sissy? I can still see the anger and disgust in your eyes. Did you ever stop and think about how I felt when you gave me the silent treatment when I brought Trent home the first time and introduced him as my life partner? How you denied who I am whenever I wanted to talk about my sexuality. Did you think that reflected on you? It didn’t. My sexuality was decided long before I ever knew what sex was.
“Now, I don’t want you to think that all I remember is the bad stuff. You and I have shared some wonderful times. Remember when we would stay up late drinking beer and eating cold pizza when you were running for state senator? How we talked over campaign strategies? Do you know how proud I was when I worked with you in your firm and you would introduce me to your lawyer friends and judges with such pride? How we would come home and review our caseload and discuss if we wanted the firm to become larger or remain a family business. Those were wonderful times, Pops. You were treating me as an equal, as a man.”
Raymond moved his chair closer to his father. “Now, Pops, I know this is something you don’t want to hear, but you’ve got to hear it from me. I wanted you to be the first one I told when I was nominated and I wanted you to be the person on my side when I went through my confirmation, but that’s not going to happen. I withdrew my nomination today because I realized that the only reason I wanted to be a judge was so that I could see that pride in your eyes again.” Raymond paused and reached to take his father’s hand in his. Together their hands were an anchor in the world.
“I was trying to live your dream, Pops. I didn’t know until a couple of weeks ago that you wanted to be a Supreme Court justice. Why didn’t you tell me that? You would have been a great one. Tough but fair.
“But this little crisis of ours has made me realize that I want to do something more with my life. Right now I don’t know what that is, but I promise you it will be something that makes you proud. But it will be my dream, Pops,” Raymond said as he removed one of his hands from his father’s grasp, then beat his fist against his chest and tears began to fill his eyes.
“So you got to get well, so we can talk about the wonderful things we’re going to do with the rest of our lives. What we’re going to do for our family and for the world. ’Cause I know you’re not finished, Pops, and I feel like I’m just beginning.”
Raymond wiped the tears from his eyes with the back of his free hand, never letting go of his father’s hand.
When Raymond arrived back at the hotel, he discovered his surprise. Trent was sitting in a chair looking over some notes at the small table in the suite Raymond was sharing with his mother.
“Trent, what are you doing here?” Raymond asked as he placed the card key on the dresser.
“This time I was invited,” Trent said, getting up from the table and walking toward Raymond. “Your mother and Kirby called me. They told me you need me.”
“Oh they did,” Raymond said as he sat on the edge of the bed.
“Yeah, that’s what they said,” Trent said. He sat on the bed next to Raymond. Trent put his hand on Raymond’s knee and looked in his eyes and said, “Raymond, I love you deeply, with my whole heart. Since we’ve been together, one of the things I’ve wanted most was for the rest of your life to be the rest of mine.”
“Trent, you did something I thought you’d never do. You hurt me,” Raymond said as he looked sadly into his partner’s eyes.
“I know, and I’m sorry. All I can say is that it won’t ever happen again.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Because I can see the hurt in your eyes. I must admit that when I was doing what I did, I didn’t think much of how you might feel. But ever since I’ve left New York, I’ve been thinking how I would feel if you were unfaithful to me, and it’s not a good feeling.”
Raymond stared at Trent and tried to figure out what to say. A voice in his head was telling him, “You’re on a roll, let him have it,” while another was saying, “Raymond, stop being an asshole. You love this man. Forgive him and get on with your life.”
Raymond chose the latter and said, “Trent, I know if we’re going to have a future together, I must forgive you in my heart and I have. It’s just, at times, I think about it and I still feel anger and sadness. I begin to wonder if we can ever have what I thought we had.”
“We can,” Trent said. He moved closer to Raymond. He breathed in Raymond’s strong, clean scent and began to kiss him on his neck, and then his ears, his face, and finally Raymond’s lips. Raymond didn’t resist as he had in New York. He began to savor the taste of Trent’s tongue. When they stopped kissing, they both stood up, and Trent noticed Raymond’s face had softened. A tenderness had come into his eyes.
Then, in an unspoken agreement, they moved to opposite sides of the bed and pulled back the bedspread. In a single fluid movement, Trent removed the yellow knit sweater his biceps were straining, unbuckled his belt, dropped his pants, and removed his underwear.
Raymond stood, still fully dressed and gazing at Trent’s deep-muscled chest, his flat stomach, and his plump and firm sex. He heard that voice again telling him this wasn’t the way to resolve their problems. But a wave of desire moved through him as Trent moved closer to him with his silky, warm nakedness and began to undress Raymond slowly. The voice became silent. But suddenly Raymond thought of his mother and whispered, “Trent, we can’t do this. My mother might come in.”
He smiled seductively. “She’s got a new room. Everything will be fine.” The heat of his smile made Raymond’s body warm with moisture.
When Trent removed Raymond’s underwear, he stood back and marveled, “Damn, baby, you look better than ever before. And I didn’t think that was possible.”
Raymond and Trent began to make love with a certain caution, as if it were their first time. And in many ways, it was.