Not a Day Goes By (19 page)

51

IT WAS Christmas evening, and I was sitting at the bar with Campbell, when she said between sips of her hot chocolate, “For someone getting married tomorrow, you don’t look happy, big brother.”

“We’ve only really known each other for three years and you think you can read my mind?” I teased. I wondered what my face was giving away.

“Come on, aren’t you excited?” Campbell playfully punched my left shoulder.

“Not really,” I said slowly. “Maybe there isn’t going to be a wedding.” I stood up and walked over to look out the window and realized the few flakes of snow had become flurries, falling in a mood similar to my own, heavy, yet calm. It had been a good Christmas Day spent watching Cade open all the presents Campbell, Hewitt, and I had bought for him. Hewitt had taken Cade to the movies while Campbell and I had put up leftovers and loaded dishes in the dishwasher.

“What? What was going on two nights ago at your engagement party? And if that party was any indication of what the wedding is going to be like, then I know it’s going to be a fantastic day. You just got the day-before jitters.”

I didn’t speak for a few moments. I was just staring at Campbell, trying to listen to the silence.
Maybe this isn’t
the best place to break the news to her,
I thought. Finally I took both of Campbell’s hands and said, “Sweetheart, I’m not going to marry Yancey. I don’t want you and Cade to show up at the hotel tomorrow.”

“Come on now! What are you talking about? I was teasing about you not looking happy. Wasn’t that you and Yancey toasting each other a couple of days ago? Didn’t I see you kiss her several times?”

She was right. I had gone along with the big production Yancey and her mother had planned. I had kissed her gently several times, but my kisses were without the passion I once felt.

“You know Yancey is an actress; well, that night, I was an actor as well,” I said, explaining my earlier actions.

“I don’t understand what’s going on. Cade is so excited about being in your wedding. I had to tell him why he couldn’t go on the honeymoon with you guys.”

I took a deep breath and began to say the words that had been locked in my head the past few days.

“There are some things about myself I don’t like.”

“We all have things we don’t like about ourselves. That’s what makes us human,” Campbell said.

“Some of those things are pretty big, and even though I know you love me, well, I’m just not ready to share them with anyone right now. Do you understand?”

“I do.”

“I hope you won’t be ashamed of me when I tell you some of the things I did,” I said.

“I promise,” Campbell said softly.

I didn’t know where to start. Was I going to place the blame on Yancey and her mother or would I tell her about my dual life? What was the real reason I wasn’t going to marry Yancey? It was only twelve hours before the wedding was scheduled, and I still didn’t know the truth that was driving me to leave Yancey standing at the altar alone. Suddenly, my silk tie felt tight, so I unbuttoned my collar and loosened it. I needed air. I had to get the words out.

I started by telling Campbell about seeing Yancey and Derrick in her dressing room. I then told her of my suspicions and installing the recorder. Her eyes suddenly looked larger and concerned. When I told her Yancey had a child she hadn’t told me about, I thought Campbell was going to fall off the bar stool she was sitting on. I decided then I wouldn’t tell her what Yancey had discovered about my past.

“Where is the child?”

“She lives with Derrick, and Yancey has never seen her.”

“So that’s why you’re not going to marry Yancey?”

“Partly. Yancey doesn’t want the child she had . . . in fact, she doesn’t want children. You know how badly I want children,” I said.

“I know, and you’ll have them,” Campbell said as she gently placed her delicate hand on top of mine and gave me a slow smile.

I told her about Yancey and Ava’s plan to go after my money and spoil my chances at the Hall of Fame. I didn’t think she was really in love with me, but was going to take the money and keep her former boyfriend and their child quiet. It was while I was talking about Yancey and her plans when it hit me. Why I couldn’t marry Yancey.

“Are you upset because she didn’t tell you about her daughter?”

I suddenly thought about my own mother and her decision to leave me with my father and I said, “No. I’m mad because she doesn’t want to be a mother to this little girl. I mean, what kind of woman could just leave her child?”

Campbell didn’t answer. She sat there quietly, tapping the spoon against her mug. When she finally looked up, I could tell her eyes were misted with tears. I realized that we were both thinking not about Yancey, but our own mother. I wanted to say, “I’m sorry for my insensitive question,” but Campbell was looking toward the window as snow continued to fall. I took a sip of my coffee, which was now cold and watery.

“It still hurts a great deal, doesn’t it?” Campbell asked.

“What?”

“Mother leaving you.”

“No. I mean, she did what she had to do,” I said as the words “mother leaving you” echoed through my mind. For a second I didn’t know who I hated more—my mother or Yancey. Then I hated myself for wanting the love of these two women so badly, knowing full well it was impossible for each of them to love without limits.

“She felt her life was in danger,” Campbell said, interrupting my negative thoughts.

“My pops wouldn’t ever raise his hand to a woman,” I said defensively.

“Look, Basil, neither one of us knows what happened in their relationship. I’m sure they were both good people who made some mistakes. But you can’t let their mistakes guide your life. We have to learn from their mistakes,” Campbell said in a consoling voice.

“Do you think our mother ever regretted leaving me?”

“I’m certain not a day went by when she didn’t think of you,” she said confidently.

“How do you know that?”

“I know. After she told me about you we talked about you almost every day. I know she regretted her decision.”

“I remember you told me how much she talked about me before she died. Trust me, I didn’t mean anything about what kind of woman would give up her child. And even though I never knew our mother I know she was not the kind of woman Yancey has turned out to be. Look what a great job she did in raising you.”

Campbell gave me a sweet smile and then asked, “Do you love Yancey?”

“I don’t know how I feel. All I know is that her actions have hurt me and made the mistrust I have for women return. It took a little vacation, but it’s back. I also feel humiliated, and I hope when Yancey comes down the aisle and I leave the moment she gets to the altar, leave her standing there alone . . . well, I just want to see her face.”

“Is that going to make you feel better?”

“Yeah,” I said quickly.

“Basil, please don’t do that. If you don’t want to marry Yancey, that’s okay, but take the high road here. Just tell her why you can’t marry her. Don’t make a fool out of her in front of all her friends.”

“Didn’t I tell you? Yancey doesn’t have any friends. Those people who will be sitting there are her fans, her subjects.”

Campbell reached her hands over to clasp mine. She looked directly in my eyes and said, “If you’re hurt or humiliated, it will pass. Trust me. If you just sit down and write your feelings tonight or tomorrow morning . . . Write how you feel about Yancey, Mother, and suddenly meeting a sister and nephew you didn’t know about. If that doesn’t help, go back to professional help, especially if you think we, the people who love you, don’t understand your pain. Years from now you’ll look back and see how much you’ve grown from this experience. Don’t worry, Yancey will have to face up to her past sooner or later. If she doesn’t, her future will be torture.” I saw affection in Campbell’s eyes but also a sadness. A sadness that I was causing with my vengeful heart. That made me sad too, and I was hoping the tears hiding in the corner of my eyes wouldn’t betray my masculine ego. I couldn’t shed tears even in front of my sister.

A long moment passed and we looked at each other in heavy silence just holding hands. I knew Campbell was right. Yet I didn’t know what to say to make us feel better. Maybe I
could
write the pain away.

DECEMBER 26, 1999 3:06 P.M.

AVA WAS walking out of the bathroom of Yancey’s suite patting her hair in place when she realized Yancey had not moved since she left the room. She was sitting on the edge of the bed in her slip, staring quietly out the window.

“Didn’t I tell you to get ready? We got a party to preside over,” Ava said. She was dressed wedding-ready in an ivory satin corset and silver ball gown.

“I’m not going to any party. Didn’t you hear anything I said? There is not going to be a wedding.”

“That may well be true, but I’m not going to let it stop the party I’ve planned. So let me tell you again. Put on that wedding dress, call the makeup guy, and let’s get started. We will deal with Basil later,” Ava said.

“Why do you think he’s not going to marry me?” Yancey asked.

“I don’t know for certain, but if I find out you messed this up by telling him . . . well, you’re going to have to deal with me and that ain’t going to be pretty. Especially after all the money I’ve spent.”

“I didn’t tell him anything,” Yancey said.

“Then you have nothing to worry about. The only person who should fear me is Mr. John Basil Henderson. I’ve already told my press person to arrange a press conference right after the new year. We will give Basil forty-eight hours to meet my demands and if he doesn’t, then we go to the press.”

“Why don’t we just cut our losses and leave him alone?” Yancey pleaded.

“
Our
losses? What have you lost?”

Before Yancey could answer, there was a knock at the door. “Maybe it’s Basil,” Yancey said. “Maybe he’s changed his mind,” she added as she raced toward the door.

“Yancey, don’t answer that door,” Ava screamed. It was too late. When Yancey flung open the door, there stood Basil, his gray eyes icy and intense.

Yancey rushed toward him and threw her arms around him, then whispered, “I knew you wouldn’t let me down. I love you.” Basil was holding a journal in his hands and stood like a stone statue.

Ava moved toward them and pulled Yancey away from Basil. Then she started screaming at him, “You’ve fucked with the wrong woman, you sick mutherfucker. When we get through with you, you’re gonna regret the day you were born.”

Basil ignored Ava’s tirade. His eyes were fixed on Yancey, who stood mercifully silent. She could tell from the look in his eyes that he hadn’t changed his mind. She just wanted to know why he had decided not to marry her.

Ava kept talking even though both Basil and Yancey were ignoring her. “You can forget about the Hall of Fame. When we finish our press conference, you’re going to be the laughingstock of the sports world. Do you think parents are going to let their sons sign with a freak like you?”

Then, in an emotionless voice, he held the journal toward Yancey and said, “I want you to have this. Maybe it will explain why we ended up this way.”

This is not happening,
Yancey began to say to herself over and over. Her eyes were brimming with tears. She moved closer to Basil and began to speak slowly, with hopeful pauses, her voice trembling. “We don’t have to get married today . . . We can wait . . . Whatever you’re going through, I will be here for you . . . I know about you and men . . . I can help you.” She folded her hands over her chest and dropped her head.

“I’m going to leave now,” Basil said.

“Don’t leave me,” Yancey said, her face now wet with tears.

“Yancey, stop it! Stop begging this sick faggot to stay. We will get him.”

Yancey turned toward Ava and screamed, “Shut up! Stop it! I should never have listened to you!”

Basil focused his eyes on Ava and shook his head. He then reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a tape. “Ava, before you schedule your press conference, I think you should listen to this. Just so you know, I have a copy for your husband as well. I’ll be sure to use the delivery service you like so much. What’s his name? Is it Hector?”

“Get out . . . get out!” Ava yelled. She moved toward Basil and started hitting his chest with her hands balled. Basil firmly moved her hands away, pushed her back, and gave Yancey a mournful glance. He then left the room without a good-bye.

Yancey turned her back toward Ava and picked up the journal Basil had left. She noticed that “Basil and Yancey” was embossed on the front cover and moved her fingers across the words slowly. She opened the journal to the first page and started reading.

Dear Yancey,

I want to save you from the world. I want you to save me from myself. I had other plans for this journal and you. I wanted it to be a history of our love story. But you and I both know you can’t have a love story when there is only one person in love.

“What does that say?” Ava asked. She moved toward Yancey and tried to pull the journal from her hands. But Yancey closed the journal and refused to let it loose.

“Let me have it!” Ava demanded.

Yancey continued to hold the journal tightly to her chest. She stared at Ava with eyes shining with tears and said, “I want you out of here right now.”

“I’m not leaving until you let me see what’s in that journal,” Ava said firmly.

“This journal is addressed to me and you will never read a word. Now leave. I want to be alone.”

“Oh, you can be alone. Sit here by yourself and wallow in a pity party. As for me, I got a real party to host. We can’t let all those guests and the publicity go to waste. When I get back to Beverly Hills, I’ll send you a bill for all this wedding shit.” Ava looked at herself in the mirror and grabbed her small handbag.

She was on her way out the door when Yancey asked, “If I pay the bill, will you promise to leave me alone? Forever?”

Ava stared at her in silence and then said, “Only if your check clears.”

EPILOGUE

THE DAWG is back!

You didn’t think I was going to let those two demented divas have the last word, did you? On the evening I was supposed to get married, I boarded a plane in the firstclass section bound for Montego Bay, Jamaica. I played a lot of golf, went snorkeling, and roamed the beaches like a cell phone. I ate some fantastic seafood, did some dancing at a reggae club. I made love with a beautiful Jamaican sistah on the beach and did the bump and grind with an equally beautiful Jamaican man with shoulder-length dreads on the terrace of the villa I rented. A good time was had by all. I only thought about Yancey about four times a day. What was she doing? Did she read the journal? Did she realize how much I had loved her? Who would be her next victim?

I did a lot of thinking as I strolled the beaches. What was I supposed to learn from my experience with Yancey? I thought about some of the women and men I had hurt with my own selfishness. I remembered the wise words of a New York cab driver who once told me, “Life is full of required courses; it’s the electives that are a bitch.” I guess Yancey was an elective for me. Being in love with her was like taking a course in nuclear physics when my major was basket weaving. But I know I’m a hard course as well.

When I got back to New York, I discovered one of my clients had given me two tickets to the Super Bowl for a Christmas present. I started to take Cade, but since I was in party mode, I decided to take another route. I invited Raymond, Zurich, Monty, and Rosa, a honey I met on the flight back from Jamaica. I decided whoever said yes first would be the one I might consider for another course in one of life’s toughest lessons: love. So I’m waiting. I know I won’t be going alone, because I told each of them to call me on my private line if they wanted to join me. I checked this morning and there are three messages. I’ll listen to them in a couple of days.

In the meantime I will issue a warning to all the mothers and fathers out there. Tell your sons and daughters. I’m back, in full form. And I’m out there. Roamin’. And switching lanes . . .