Less Than Perfect Circumstance (17 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

TO DANCE WITH MY FATHER AGAIN

Dexter

Instead of waiting until I
arrived in Miami several hours late
r, I
called
my
mother
to see how Marvin was doing. Yesterday I
was celebrati
ng with best friend and DaMarcus, now I was heading back to see my father, who, when I
left, was unresponsive and immobile
.  I still had so much to say to him, and I hoped father time was still on my side. 

I had a hard time dealing with my father’s skewed perception when it came to my life. Henever
adjust
ed
to the man I had become, and it wasn’t like it was something that happened overnight.
Marvin
seemed to think
everyone had the same presc
ription in life. He never accepted that I had been prescribed a
differe
nt life, and t
he situation with Patrick certainly
didn’t make reaching out to my
father any easier.

I
stood at the window watching the planes depart in succession.
My
mother was taking longer th
an usual to answer the phone. I
moved
the p
hone from my
ear, looked at the
display screen, thinking I might have dialed the wrong number.

“Hey, mom, it’s Dexter,
”
I
announced when she finally answered.

“Hey baby. What time does your flight leave?”

“We should be boarding shortly,”
I
responded, looking at the attendant standing at the gate.

“How was the ceremony?”

“She was
beautiful
and elegant.”

“A
ren’t you glad you went
?”

“Of course I am. Listen, did you see dad?”

“Marcel, Dane, Deidre
, and the kids went to sit with him yesterday. Deidre and Marcel are heading back home so the kids can get ready for school. I
’m just getting back from seeing him this morning.”

“So how is he?”

“Well, he’s not getting better, but he doesn’t seem to
be getting any worse either. I held his hand as we talked, but he’s still not responding. I think we have a decision to make.”

“I’m going to see him as soon as I get back.”

“Dexter, you’ve had a long weekend. Come on home, get something to eat, get some rest
,
and you can go see him later.”

“
I’m not tired. I can grab something to eat at the airport. I won’t stay there too long. Just need to finish talking to him.”

“OK. Have a safe flight.”

“I Love you.”

“I love you too, Dexter
.”

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

Besides a little turbul
ence just before landing, I
had a smooth flight.
The flight was full, so t
he crowd at the baggage claim was lar
ger than usual. With my suit
bag in one hand and a s
mall travel bag in the other, I
walked anxiously
to the
car, counting the minutes, looking forward to spendin
g some more time with my father
.

The hospital was like a ghost town on this Sunday afternoon, as if someone had issued an e
mergency evacuation order. When I
exited the elevator,
many of the rooms I passed were empty. A room a few doors from my father’s once occupied by an old woman with hair as silky as a spider’s web, who always smiled when she saw me, was empty, too. When I looked inside, t
he bed had been perfectly made. The balloons and flowers that once masked the
hated hospital scent were gone. Her personals that once sat at the side of her bed, and t
he scents that made her room her own were gone.

I
stopped at the receptionist’s
desk to see what information I
could get out of Nurse Pres
cott, but she, too, was gone. I walked to my
father’s room, which was
extremely quiet when I entered. There were still
the humming of machines and the occasional beeps from the
monitors. I
didn’t expect to see anyone in there. Nurse Hagerty, who
I
had passed several times in the elevator on previous
visits, was checking
Marvin’s vital signs and logging the information in his chart.

“I’ll be out of your way in a second, sir,” Nurse Hagerty said
, acknowledging my
presence.

“No, don’t mind me. So how is he doing?”

“What’s your relationship to the patient?” Nurse Hagerty asked in a very professionally tone.

“He’s my father,
” I responded
matter-of-fact
ly
.

“I’ve only been on this floor for a couple days now, and I haven’t seen much improvement.”

“That’s not a good thing is it?”

“Well, it’s not good that he isn’t improving, but at least
his condition isn’t worsening
. We’ve stabilized him.  I’m sure he’ll recover.”

Hearing Nurse Ha
gerty
’s comments on my
father’s cond
ition
brought my
worst
fear even closer to reality.
Now I really just wanted to be alone with him.

“Ok, Mr. DeGregory. If you need anything, well, you know the routine, the red button, push it.” Nurse Hagerty smiled as he exited the room, pulling the door closed behind him.

My
father
and I were finally alone. I
pulled the chair close
r to the bed, sat as if I were
exhaust
ed, and exhaled. For a while, I sat in silence, not sure how I wanted to begin this conversation
.
He looks comfortable
, I thought. I sat up and stroked my
father’s for
ehead.
Marvin looked and smelled clean. His linen was always clean, and his room, for some reason, didn’t have the same hospital
smell that usually penetrated my nose. 

“Daddy, I love you,”
I said, almost whispering
.

Those words were never h
ard for me to say. I realized it has been a long time since I’ve used those words in the same sentence to my father.

“I had to leave this weekend. Belinda and DaMarcus renewed their vows. My face is looking like old again.
The scar is still there, but, really, you could barely see it
.
I’m back at work, though I don’t have the same hectic schedule yet. I’m sure that’ll happen in time. Taking things slowly, I guess.
”
I stopped and waited for me father to respond, but heard nothing.

I
thought ab
out how the moment resembled my
first day coming home from s
chool after spending my first day in Ms. Binder’s first grade class. I wanted to tell my
father everything that happened
, but when Iran inside the house, tossed my
book bag just in
side the door
and yelled for my father, no one answered. I
wanted to t
ell him about my
new best fri
end, Chadwick, who sat beside
m
e
in the front of the clas
s. I
wanted to tell him I had
answered all the math problems that Ms. Binder had on the blackboard
correctly, but my
father was not there.
My
excitement had been floored by gravity. That
same
dejected
feeling I
had then, was being felt all over again.
I
wanted to say
so much to my father, and he wasn’
t there. It wasn’t his fault then, and it isn’t his fa
ult now
.

My father and I knew what had caused our strained relationship.  I
felt a tear in the corner
s of my eyes. Not wanting my father to hear
m
e cry, I
got up and walked to the window. A black hearse with a purple flag with the word
funeral
hanging from the antenna entered the hospital grounds. Several limousines and cars with bright headlights follow
ed closely behind it.

“You know this part of
my life, the part that involved
Patrick, me g
etting hurt, and the danger
I put J.R. in, migh
t not have been what you wanted, but you left me no other choice.  N
ot
hing I did
met
your approval, but
I was happy. What bothered me most, what drove you and I
apart,
was that
Dane and I never got an apology. A simple ‘I’m sorry’ would have done so much, even if you didn’t mean it. Do you know what you took from us? As much as mother tried to make up for what you knew we were missing, it wasn’t the same. And what did you do? You worried about what I was and what I was going through with Patrick. Instead of relishing in and applauding my accomplishments, you developed a disdain that none of that could erase.”

My words flowed without hiccup or hesitation.

“
Every now and then I did see a part of Patrick that made me think maybe you were right. You never gave me a chance to even admit that to
you. You avoided me at all cost

that was your mantra, especially when it came to me. That was how much you hated me, and it deepened the hated I already had for you. But unlike you, I can admit that none of what I went through with Patrick
was worth it.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

I BELIEVED IN YOU AND ME

Dexter

A
s long as Patrick was in control
, we were fine. He had to be the one making the decisionin our relationship. He decided
when
it ended and even when it would begin again.
And
there I was, ready to try again when that decision was made.
It simply wasn’t e
asy breaking up with him. I didn’t love anyone else. Then I grew
tired of the roller coaster ride that being with Patrick had become
. I
realize
d
the madness and
decided to stop it.

I didn’t know what I was going to say, but I
kn
ew when it was all said
,
I
would no longer be a part of Patrick’s twisted reality. The life he lived, the
life that didn’t involve me, wasn’t going to end. I held on because Ihad convinced
m
y
self other
wise.

The
re was nothing special or unusual
about meeting Patrick. He was a nice guy who said
all the right things, and I
was naïve enough
to believe almost everything I heard. Patrick believed
he could have his
cake and eat it, too, and for a long time, he did. W
hen the truth was staring me in my face, I
closed my
eyes a
nd hoped it would go away
.

I questioned some of the things Patrick did. S
ome
of the lies he told I
didn’t realize were lies until it was too
late.
Was
it really that difficult to tell the truth?
I
often thought.
I believed anything Patrick said,
that was the ugly truth.
I di
dn’t
have
any re
ason not to trust him. So often I found
m
y
self giving him
the bene
fit of the doubt, even against my
better judgment.

I would be lying if I didn’t say Iwas smitten by Patrick when we
first met. His charming per
sonality hid his flaws
from
me and
the rest o
f the world. For a long time, I
actually believed P
atrick
was a man who could do no wrong

not that I
thought such a man existed. Marvin must have seen right through Patrick’s Maybelene exterior.

I introduced Patrick to my family about a month after we
met, which was probably a little too soon,
but I
had so much confidence in what
would become of us, I
w
anted to share him with those I
loved
. Ibelieved Patrick would charm my
family to death, and for the most part, he did, with the exception of Marvin
DeGregory. Since nothing or no
o
ne is ever perfect enough in my
father’s eyes, his opinion about Patrick meant littl
e, if anything at all, to me
.

Patrick lived in a
two bedroom
condo on Whitewood Village Drive. His roommate, Jacoby, was a beautiful dark skinned fellow with strong African features. Jacoby had a quiet demeanor, a man of few words who kept himself confined to the upstairs portion of the house
whenever
I would visit
.
When I
asked if Jacoby acted that way with everyone, Patrick laughed, and then responded, “Only if he likes you.”

I thought it was weird, but I kept my thoughts to
m
yself. I
didn’t know it at the time, but that was Pat
rick’s first attempt to deter
m
e
from f
iguring out the web of lies
he weaved so masterfully. Well, damn it, it worked.

The roommate
fairy
tale th
at Patrick concocted kept me
at bay for quite some time. To ease any
discomfort
Jacoby might have felt in his own house
, I
stopped visiting Patrick there
. My house became our
regular meeting place. There
were so many things about their interaction that struck
me
as odd. Patrick had certain rules that, even after lengthy explanations abo
ut why those rules existed,
didn’t make sense. The
fool that love had turned me
into believed every word that rolled
from Patrick’s venomous tongue, and falling in love wasn’t even my intention.

Mornings nev
er caught Patrick in bed with
m
e
. Even after a night of havin
g the kind of sex that left us
hot, sweaty, breathless and yearning for more, Patrick would jump up, quickly shower as if
he were
tryin
g to conserve water, give me
a hurried see-you-later kiss, and he was gone, leaving behind nothing but a trace of his Dolce and Gabbana c
ologne, which always left me wanting him even more. I
was left on the other side of the door t
rying to figure out why our nights
always ended like that. The reasons were more than crystal clear; yet, even t
hose I
chose to ignore.

It never bothered
m
e
enough to confront Patrick.
What was I worried about losing? Months, a year passed, and Patrick’s
behavior n
ever changed. I allowed him to treat
m
e as he did, and he
sat b
ack and pretended that his half-
hearted presence filled some void or pro
vided some happiness I couldn’t find in
m
y
self or in someone else.

I
wasn’t look
ing to hear from Patrick when I did. After had I left the previous night, he
made it clear how busy
his schedule was going to be. I was surprised when my
phone rang and Patrick’s picture appeared on the display screen. Hi
s phone call had an urgency I
had never heard in his voice before.

“Baby, what are you doing?”

Up until that momen
t, Patrick had never called me
anything but the name
my
parents had given him, or some abbreviation
of it. Before responding, I held the phone away from my ear, looked
at the picture, name, and number displayed on the screen
, and made sure I
recognized the man on the other end.

“Patrick. Hey. I’m having dinner with Deidr
e and the kids. Is everything okay
?”

“It’s Jacoby.”

His response was draped in pity.

“Ok. What about Jacoby
?”

I excused
m
y
self from the table and continue
d my
conversation in the kitchen. I wasn’t sure if I
was supposed to be worried. If something had happened to Jacoby
, how was I
supposed to react? Jacoby
and I
had barely exch
anged
two words to each othe
r, but whatever has happened, I
needed to be there for Patrick. When Patrick didn’t respond
, I
called his name to get his attention.

“
Patrick, w
hat’s wrong with Jacoby?”
I asked again, louder.

“Listen. Can you come over?”

Patrick
didn’t have to ask twice. I grabbed my
car keys from the countertop and returned to the dining area.

“
Deidre,” I said, heading towards the door.“I have to go.
”

“Dexter
,w
ait
,” Deidr
e yelled out. “Is everything okay
?” 

“That was Patrick. Something happened to Jacoby
…
I guess. He didn’t go into details.”

“Go
a
head.
Call me later.”

“I will. Thanks for dinner.”

“Make sure you call me,
” Deidre shouted just before I closed the door behind
m
e
.

On my way to Patrick’s house, many
thing
s went through my
mi
nd. Patrick had given
m
e
so li
ttle information that it left
m
e thinking the worst. When I
arrived at the house, all the lights were on, and the
door was w
ide open. I
stepped ins
ide and was surprised by what I
saw. Patrick was sitting on the only piece of furn
iture that had been left behind, a stepping stool, with his eyes
red, as if
he
had been crying all day.

“Have you been robbed?” I
asked, a
dumb question since there
weren’t any police cars outside. I
just didn’t know what else to say.

“Jacoby
’s gone.”

Patrick spoke without looking up. He sat with his hands clasped in front of him. His head hung gazing at the floor. I stood looking at him as tears followed his gaze and fell into the same spot as the tears before. 

“Where did he go?”

I stood behind him with my hands in both pants pockets. I
looked from one side to the next, still in disbelief.

“He left. He packed everything and left. He left this,” Patrick said, handing
me
an envelope and a note stained with his tears. 

It read:
I sat around and watched so many things happen, believing I couldn’t do anything about it. I waited, believing the time that I had invested in us, in you, was worth holding on just a little bit longer. I lied to myself night after night, making excuses for you, even when the excuses I made were senseless. Should I stay or should I go were questions that, no matter how hard I
tried,
I couldn’t come up with the answers. Well, I was lying in bed and one day it all became clear.
Everything I’ve done has been done for you. Well, this I have to do for me. I’m sorry I had to leave like this, but I have had enough. I love you.

“Is there someth
ing you need to tell me?” I
asked
,
looking back and forth between Patrick and the note,
as if I hadn’t just read everything I
needed to know.

Patrick was
still
si
tting on the stool. He looked
disgraced and disgusted.  

“What are you talking about?” Patrick asked,
as if he wanted me
to hold his hand through the conversation and spoon-feed him the words

needed
for his explanation.

“Come on, man. Why
the fuck
couldn’t I see it? You could have told me there was more to your relationship with Jacoby than him being just your roommate. The entire time
…the entire time,” I repeated
, “you’ve downplayed this secret relationship. You had me laughing in this man’s face, wondering why he couldn’t be around us. And you covered up my curiosity with some cockamamie explanation about him liking me.”

“And what would you have done had you known?”

“I wouldn’t be here.”

“Exactly.”

“How long did you think you were going to play me? How long did you think you were going
to
parade me around in this man’s face, disrespecting him like you’ve been doing before he got the sense he needed to leave your lying, deceitful ass?”

“If it weren’t for Jacoby, you wouldn’t have figured it out.”

“Fuck you!” I s
creamed. “Do you honestly think…?
”

I laughed, walked closer to Patrick and stood in front of him.

“How stupid do you think I am?
Jacoby must have been planning his getaway for months, but you were too busy lying to notice what was happening. You were too busy trying to keep your lies together that you didn’t see things disappearing before you eyes. How long did you think he was going
to