Less Than Perfect Circumstance (18 page)

take
what you were dishing out? ”

“How can you think about yourself at a time like this?”
Patrick asked.

“Should I
be thinking about your lying-
ass?  I guess throughout your schemes and lies, you’ve bee
n thinking about
me…
and Jacoby
. Either you were good with your lies,
or…,”
I paused and soon realized.
“I have to believe you are an excellent liar. It’s better than to believe that, at my age, I was so fucking gullible.”

“I wanted you, but I couldn’t leave him.
”

“Please don’t tell me that’s the best reason you can come up with.”

“
I didn’t think I should have to choose.”

Patrick’s attempt to rationalize his ac
tions was getting under my
skin.

“So, because you didn’t want to choose, you didn’t think Jacoby or I deserved to choose either? You selfish asshole! Now he has left you with nothing.”

“And let me
guess. Y
ou’re thinking this is exactly what I deserve,” Patrick said, unable
to make eye contact.

“Oh, I didn’t think I needed to say it. And here, y
ou can have this, too,” I
said, tossing the letter and envelope towards Patrick
’s face
.

“What the hell am I supposed to do with that?”

“Oh, you’ll have plenty of fucking
time to figure it out. T
rust me.”

Through all
my cursing, all my anger, I realized that I
had fallen in
love with this liar. Even if I wanted to leave him, I
couldn’
t have done it at that point; I
couldn’
t kick him while he was down. I
stayed with Patrick u
ntil he built himself back up. My
family watched
as I
gave all
I had and what I
di
dn’t have, and in return, I
got more lies.   

Patrick and I
weren’t work
ing towards anything, and I
was tired of holding on to nothing. It’s almost as if Patrick thought his kisses and
half-
hearted
I love you
were satisfying enough.
My reasons for staying, for accepting Patrick’s lies, whatever they were, no longer made sense. I had decided Patrick wasn’t worth it. I
was going to get out
.

CHAPTER THIRTY

WHY AM I HOLDING ON?

Dexter

I paced my father’s room when I was tired of sitting. Most of the time I stood with my head leaning on the door, or a window, trying to decide which part of my story I was going to tell my father next. Where was he when I was going through my downs with Patrick? My eyes glistened as I fought back tears.
Why was I crying now?
I thought, trying to put my feelings into perspective. I stood and talked, hoping my father was listening. Marvin was on his deathbed, but this was my confession.

After Jacoby
left, I
spent the next few weeks waiting for
some sort of normalcy in what I had with Patrick. But as far as I
was concerned, normal neve
r existed, and it wasn’t in ou
r future.

During the nights, my
mind worked overtime.
I
slept with the windows opened, allowing t
he quiet of the night to lull
m
e to sleep. On
still
nights,
the flurry of activities occur
ring in my mind kept me
awake.What
I
couldn’t figure out before
going to sleep, I dreamed
about,
and even in dream
s, I couldn’t find the answers I
was searching for.
I
k
new whatever tactic I
would come
up with when I
woke
,
it wasn’t going to work with Patrick.

I spent my
day
s
wit
h J.R and Belinda, occupying my mind and my
time with everyth
ing but what would become of my
impending conversation with Patrick. Prepared,
scared, or not, I knew what I
needed to do.
I
did have one thing to draw strength from.
Even though Jacoby
had left like a thief in the black of night, he did, at least, have t
he strength to leave, and I
wonder
ed
i
f, face to face with Patrick, I
would be a
ble to find the same courage. Until then,
beside
s the fact that I
loved
Patrick, I
hadn’t figured out why leaving was so difficult.

“Uncle Dex. Can I ride with you?” J.R. asked. I had stood in the bedroom earlier that day, after a heated conversation with Patrick and had decided that night would be the night.

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid to stay here by yourself,” I said, smiling. “You know the boogeyman never actually lived in the closet, right?”

We
hadn’t gotten too far from the house before the questions began.

“Uncle Dex, a
re you and Uncle Rick fighting?”

“No, Kiddo, we’re not fighting. We’re jus
t going through some things
we need to figure out.”
I didn’t want to lie, but I didn’t want to worry him,
either.

“You were sort of mad on the phone. Are you sure everything is fine?”

When I didn’t answer, J.R. got very
quiet.
He positioned himself so he was facing
me.He
placed his elbow on the back of the seat, rested his head in the palm of his hand,
and then sighed quietly. I reached over and rubbed my
hand over J.R
.
’s head and down his face.

“Don’t look so sad,
man,” I
ordered.

“Uncle Dex, can I tell you something?”

“Sure. You can tell me anything. You know that.”

“I like Uncle R
ick.”

J.R. wasn’t telling me anything I
didn’t already know.

“I know you do, son. You and Rick will still be cool after tonight.”

A few minu
tes from Patrick’s house, I
called to let him know
I
wasn’t too far, and gave him
a heads up that J.R. was with
m
e
. Patrick knew h
ow protective I was of my
nephew.

Patrick had moved to Great Castle Estate, a gated community of s
ingle-family homes.
He lived in phase one, on Liverpool Terrace, at the corner of Liverpool and Olgelvy Streets. He had a large window in the front of his house, and like most of his neighbors, everything in the living room was visible to anyone passing by.

When I
pulled into the driveway, Patrick stood in the front of the

yard
, under the pine tree wher
e we’ve
stood to talk many times before. There was
n’t anything unusual about our
greeting. Patrick did smell of wine, but it was customary for him to have a glass or two when he got home from work. He h
ad a friendly exchange with J.R.,
who was very excited to see him. They talked about the playoffs and placed bets that Kobe and the Lakers were going to win the NBA Championship
the
next season. Patrick, a die-hard Knicks fan, h
ad his money on Shaq, King
James
,
and the Cavs. Neither of them took into consideration that
the Celtics
were still
a team to be reckoned with.

“Look, buddy, your uncle and I have to talk for a minute. I’ll be right back.”

Patrick
and I
were a
short
distance from J.R.
,
but close enough that if he li
stened keenly he could hear our conversation. When Patrick tried to kiss
m
e, I
turned
my head.

“So what did you want to talk about?” Patrick asked.

“I’m tired of pretending
everything is fine between us, Patrick.
I can’t do this anymore.”

I got straight to the point. I
was tired of beating around the bush with him.

“But baby, everything is fine,”
Patrick
responded with a smirk on his fac
e, and with that, I knew he wasn’t serious.

“Are you kidding me?
Have you been blindfolded this whole time?
Do I look
or sound
like everythin
g is fine? I don’t know
what
we’re doing, but I do know
I can’t keep hanging around with such uncertainty over our heads.”

“Did you come here to tell me something, Dex?”

“Look, Rick. I lo
ve you, man. I love you, but
I’m tired of choosing you over me. I’m tired of lying beside you and feeling that the person lying beside me would rather be somewhere else
, because his mind i
s on someone else.”

“You knew t
he situation when you got in it,
”
Patrick said.

“What do you mean
‘
I knew the situation when I got in it
’
? All I knew was what you told me. I wasn’t fishing around to verify anything you said because I expected nothing from you but the truth. I didn’t know you, so all I had to go on was your word. It’s been too long. Nothing is changing, and at this point, I’m tired of it. You sitting ar
ound thinking
Jacoby
is coming back, after so long
,
isn’t
changing. ”

“What do you expect me to do?”

“I don’t expect you to do anything you don’t want to.”

I was getting upset. I wasn’t yelling, but I felt that if I
didn’t leave, it would get to that point. J.R. came out of the car and stood at the driver side door.
I still had some things I needed to get off my chest. I was looking at Patrick and I wasn’t seeing the person I unintentionally
fell in love with. Patrick’s lies had made him distasteful and unattractive.

“Oh, and before I forget, the brother you had sitting in my hous
e, the one you passed off as your cousin? I
t took me a while, but I figured that out, too.”

“Dexter, it’s been a long night. I
t’s getting late, and I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“When d
o you ever want to talk about anything
?
Those nights you hurried from my house as if you were a little school girl who had missed a curfew her parents imposed, were you hurrying home to Jacoby, or was there someone else you were sharing yourself with?”

“You tell me. You seem to have all the answers,” Patrick said, not admitting to anything.

“I’m curious,” I continued, ignoring Patrick’s statement. “What else are you not telling me?”

“What else have you found out? You’re so busy playing detective, why don’t you tell me. What other bones might I have in my closet? Better yet, tell me this. Despite all you know, everything that your detective-work has uncovered, why have you stayed?” Patrick asked calmly.

“That’s simple,” I began.

“Since you want to talk about curiosity,” Patrick interrupted. “Why are you here asking me to make a decision? It seems you have enough evidence to decide for yourself. Are you sure you don’t get a certain satisfaction from being with me, enduring all you say you have?
Just how much of this has to do with your father’s feelings towards you, or yours towards him?
Am I supposed to believe you love me so much you were able to overlook Jacoby, the constant arguments between you and your father because of me, as you’ve said, you wondering if there
are
others involved? Newsflash, Dexter. You’re not the only one sitting around wondering.”

“You’re not going to turn this situation on me,” I warned. “And my father has nothing to do with this.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Since you obviously don’t want us to make a decision together, I’ll make the decision for us.”

“Just stick to making a decision for you. And make sure it’s one you can live with. I’m going to be fine regardless,”
Patrick
said, convincingly.

“Where was that testimonial the night Jacoby left you sitting with that defeated what-am-I-going-to-do-now look on your face? I stayed with you and you want to warn me about making decisions I can live with?”

“That was your dumbness,” Patrick acknowledged. “But you didn’t do that just for me. You did it for you.”

“So here’s what I’m also going to do for me. I can’t wait for you to decide if you’re ready to be serious with just me. I’m tired of waiting. Every time I think you’ve finally come around, you pull back. If you don’t pull back, you lie. I don’t know which is worse, and I’m afraid one day your lies are going to seriously hurt me. And if they don’t hurt me, then those same lies are going to end up getting you hurt.”

“Is that a threat?”

“Call it what you must. I have to go. When you decide you’re ready to give your heart to someone, you can find Jacoby, or maybe your cousin. What his name? Oh, yeah. Jerrell Gibson-Morgan.”

“What?” Patrick asked, stunned at my disclosure. 

“I know. That’s not the name you told me, is it? The next time you decide to lie, lie about everything,” I suggested. “That Six Degrees of Separation theory actually has some truth to it. Yup, it’s a small world after all.”

With that, I turned and walk to the car. I felt Patrick walking up behind me, but I paid no attention to his approach.  

“J.R., get in the car,
” I
commanded.

“Uncle Dexter
!” J.R. called with concern evident
in his voi
ce. Patrick reached for my hand, but I pulled away from him again. I
just wanted to
get away.

So many times
I had
walked away
from Patrick
f
eeling more foolish than before. Most of the times, I just ignored it. I
just co
uldn’t ignore it anymore. Oh, I hated to leave. Finally, I
hated hurting more.

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

The rain that had thre
atened to fall began as I pulled into my garage. I
was thinking
so hard that when he got home I was exhausted. When I
walked in the house, the phone was ringing.

“J.R., can you get that for me?”
I asked, and sat on the couch with my head leaned back, staring into the high ceiling.

“
J.R. speaking,” he answered.
After a few moments, he yelled,
“Uncle Dex,
it
’
s
Uncle Rick.”