Love Like Hallelujah (16 page)

Frieda escaped the unusually hot July heat by stepping into the Peninsula, an upscale hotel in Beverly Hills. She was there to meet Gorgio, who was almost off work. When he’d first asked her out, she had been a bit intimidated, with his model good looks and extravagant demeanor. When he told her he worked in Beverly Hills, it only added to her hesitation—until she found out it was as a waiter at this five-star establishment. Her first visit to see him there had been memorable. Having good friends both in management and in the kitchen, he’d sat her at a discreet table and plied her with banana martinis and a sampling of almost everything on their luncheon menu. They’d been together almost four months, and in addition to the good food and great sex, Gorgio lived rather large on those wealthy businessman tips.

“Hey, Frieda,” the host said as Frieda entered the Belvedere, the hotel’s patio-styled restaurant. “Gorgio said you were on your way. He wants to grab a bite, and we’ve saved a table.”

“Hey there, Frieda-lay,” another of Gorgio’s coworkers, a waiter, greeted her. They’d partied together once or twice; he was familiar with Frieda’s zany side. “Come with me.”

He led her to a table for two tucked in the corner. “I’ve got a banana martini with your name on it,” he whispered with a wink. “You game?”

“Absolutely,” Frieda replied.

“Coming right up,” the waiter said, and disappeared to the bar area.

Frieda took out a compact and checked her makeup. She hadn’t taken the time to freshen up after handling the dense traffic along Santa Monica Boulevard. She was just about to put the compact away when two men caught her eye in the mirror. She put down the mirror and turned around. It was
him
. It was both of them, the men from the Hollywood Hills party—one of whose name she now knew was Darius.

She turned back around, smiling slightly. Even though they’d never met, she felt a certain familiarity with him. After all, she’d seen his bare ass, not to mention his other asset in all its rigid glory. She discreetly turned around again. They were being seated, and appeared to share a comfortable camaraderie. She noticed Darius squeezed his friend’s shoulder before sitting down in his own chair.

Frieda’s mind was going a mile a minute. There hadn’t been enough drama in her life since moving to California, and Frieda’s life was normally swimming in it.
I should go over there
. Frieda imagined what she would say if she did walk up to them.
Hi, remember me? I was at the party in the Hollywood Hills…the private one that was going on upstairs
. She laughed out loud at their imagined reaction. Would they deny it? Would they be pissed?

“Ooh, I should do it,” she said with a devilish giggle.

“Do what?” the waiter asked, setting down a frosty banana martini.

“Yeah,” Gorgio asked, kissing Frieda before sitting opposite her. “Do what?”

“Remember those gay dudes I told you about, the ones who were fuckin’ in the bedroom the night I met you?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, keep it on the DL, but they’re right over there.”

Gorgio leaned to the left and right, trying to see around Frieda. “Who?”

“Those two Black guys sitting over there, behind us.” She cocked her head toward them to emphasize the direction.

“Those all-about-business-looking brothers over there? One of them is in a suit, the other in, what is that, Sean Jean?”

Frieda sipped her martini, her eyes sparkling. “That’s them!”

Gorgio perused them critically. “Hmm, very interesting. I never would have thought…”

“You can’t tell these days. Athletes, corporate execs, politicians, everybody’s getting it in the booty.”

“Girl, you are crazy.”

“But you like it.”

“That I do.”

“So,” Gorgio said, still checking out Darius and Bo. “You hungry?”

Frieda wasn’t listening, she was deep in thought. “I want to go over there and say something.”

“Frieda, you are not going over there.” And then, “What would you say?”

Frieda’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I’d say, ‘Haven’t I seen you before?’ Then I’d say, ‘It was either at
church
or a booty-full party in the Hollywood Hills!’”

“No, Frieda,” Gorgio said, afraid his girl might follow through on her insane plans. “Let that man handle his business. You worry about handling what’s over here.”

Frieda slipped off her shoe under the table and reached her leg across to Gorgio’s lap. “It’s about time for me to handle something over there,” she said sexily, rubbing his crotch with her foot.

“Stop, woman!” Gorgio said, grabbing her foot. But instead of pushing it away, he rubbed it against the bulge in his pants.

Frieda smiled, her foot sliding up and down his leg.

“Let’s get something and take it home,” Gorgio said. “I’m tired, ready to get out of these clothes.”

“Uh-huh,” Frieda said, still smiling and rubbing.

“Come on then,” Gorgio said as Frieda finished her martini. “Let’s get you out of here before you start something.”

They placed their order and soon had “to-go” boxes on the table. With thoughts of a naked Frieda on his mind, Gorgio hurried toward the exit.

When Frieda reached Bo and Darius’s table, she slowed her pace. “Hey, fellas. Hello, Darius.” She smiled secretively, as if withholding information. “Enjoy your meal. The gazpacho with huge
cucumber
chunks is delicious.” Without waiting for a response she moved past the table toward the exit. Gorgio shrugged toward the men and followed her out.

She could barely contain her laughter until they’d gotten outside.

“Frieda, you’re crazy as hell,” Gorgio said, laughing. “How you gon’ front somebody like that?”

“What do you mean?” Frieda asked innocently, between giggles. “I just suggested a meal I thought they’d enjoy.”

“Sure you did.”

“A meal for later maybe.” He squeezed her affectionately as they walked to Frieda’s car. Gorgio, who lived relatively close to the restaurant, had caught the bus that day.

“Yum, like the one I’m getting ready to have?”

“You know the deal.”

“Well?” Bo asked, waiting for an answer to his inquiry as to who Frieda was.

“I don’t know her,” Darius said for the second time. “She’s probably seen me at church.”

“She didn’t act like she’d seen you at church. And that line about cucumbers? That skank has nerve.”

Darius loved Bo but at times became annoyed with his possessive, prissy attitude. “Look,” he said firmly and slowly for emphasis, “I don’t know her.”

Bo squirmed in his chair, but sensing Darius’s exasperation, wisely chose to let it go, in a way. “First there’s Stacy, and now this hootchie. I just can’t stand these twats twittering around my man. Waiter!” he said, catching the man passing. “Bring me a double scotch on the rocks, please.”

Darius couldn’t totally blame Bo for being agitated. He didn’t know how he’d handle Bo telling him he had a date. But going out with Stacy seemed like a safe enough move, definitely like a necessary one. No one at the church had questioned his sexuality directly, but he knew there were rumors, had been since his divorce from Gwen. And while he thought Derrick might let him continue playing for the church, even if he were outed, it wasn’t something he wanted to find out. Not only did the gig pay well, but it was perfect and constant exposure for his music. Maybe after the second album dropped, after he blew up, things would be different. But he’d worked too hard, waited too long, for the success he was now experiencing. He wasn’t going to let his sexual orientation fuck things up.

Plus, he’d already cancelled on Stacy twice; it had been a month since they’d made plans to meet. After signing with Arista Records, his schedule had gotten insane. The execs were trying to push up the release date, wanting the title track, “A Timeless Love,” to drop on Valentine’s Day. Stacy hadn’t been happy, but she was determined to go out with him no matter how long it took. He knew the girl would bug him until the return of Jesus.

Darius tried to soothe Bo. “Baby, you know it means nothing with Stacy. This coming Friday is strictly business. And it’s the perfect cover. She and I will hang out—”

Bo heaved a dramatically heavy sigh.

Darius placed a hand on Bo’s arm and finished quickly, “Every now and then. Just enough to, you know, make it look cool.” He leaned over, lowering his voice. “And you’ll be by my side, and in my bed, every step of the way.”

Darius’s words and the quickly downed, hard liquor had the desired calming effect. Bo sat back, grabbed the menu. “I think I’ll try that damn gazpacho, with the
cucumber
chunks.”

Darius laughed. He loved Bo, his sense of humor was infectious, and the way he viewed life, refreshing. Plus, he was a good businessman. Bo didn’t know it, but Darius was busy figuring out how he could legitimize Bo traveling with him, being with him all the time, as the album neared completion and tour dates were being tossed around. Darius had suggested Bo to the record company as his choice for personal assistant. Not that he could use that title with Bo. With him, Darius would need to come up with something flashy, something that sounded important. But he was working on it. He couldn’t see going on tour and leaving his love behind—or his lover’s
behind
either.

Her hands full, Tai used her shopping bags to push open the unlocked front door. She’d dropped the twins off at the recreation center, and with Princess working at her new, part-time job, Tai relished thoughts of a quiet house after a day spent shopping. Mama Max’s car was in the driveway, perfect since she’d seen and purchased one of her mother-in-law’s favorite pieces of clothing, an oversized cotton top in a bright color. Tai was just about to announce her arrival when she heard what sounded like raised voices coming from King’s office.
That’s unusual
. It was rare that anyone ventured into King’s self-proclaimed private domain.

Later, Tai would wonder why she’d snuck up on her husband and mother-in-law. Maybe it was instinct, maybe premonition, maybe both. But that’s what she did—gently put down her shopping bags and tiptoed toward King’s office. As she neared the door, Mama Max’s voiced dropped a bit. Tai stood to the side of the doorway, absolutely quiet and still.

“There’s a reason that girl ain’t talking,” Mama Max said. “And I think it’s because she knows that’s your child!”

Tai took a step back and looked at the wall, as if she could see through it. Her mouth opened, even as she questioned if she could have really heard what she heard.
King’s child? What girl? What is Mama Max talking about?
There was only one way to find out. She burst through the door.

“Who’s got what child, King?” Tai didn’t even try to stay calm. Still, she crossed her arms and willed herself to not yell.

Both Mama Max and King were stunned at Tai’s entrance. They stood silently, the unfinished conversation hanging heavy in the air, like a fourth body. Mama Max looked away. King looked down.

Tai asked again, “What child? King, Mama, what is going on here?”

“Now, Tai, I don’t even know if there’s any truth to it, probably just the wonderings of an old woman.” Mama Max tried to speak with lightheartedness. She gave a little laugh. “I didn’t hear you come in. Where are the kids?”

“Mama Max, we’ve known each other too long for you to patronize me by changing the subject.”

Silence.

Tai persisted, agitation rising. “Don’t you two think I have a right to know what you were discussing when I came in? Now whose baby are we talking about?”

King knew there was no easy way to break this news. It had been hard enough carrying the possibility around alone, even with Derrick as a sounding board now and again. He thought the best approach would be a direct one. “Tootie’s,” he said simply.

The name was a bullet. Tai sat down, as if shot, in the chair opposite King’s massive desk. It seemed moments before her heart beat again. She couldn’t think, not even of how to react. So she just sat staring.

Mama Max walked over and sat in a chair next to her beloved daughter-in-law. “Now, Tai,” she began.

Tai held up a hand, cut her off. “Mama, I need some time.” She looked at King. “Tootie is saying she has your child?” Tai remembered what Vivian had said about Tootie having three children. Until this moment, she’d not given those words a second thought.

King jumped at the chance to ease Tai’s fears. “No, but—”

Mama Max did, too, at the same time. “She ain’t said—”

Both stopped, then started again. “King doesn’t believe—”

“Mama thinks—”

Mama Max placed a hand on Tai’s arm. “When Tootie first came here, I asked about her children. She seemed evasive about the third child, the oldest. Then when I asked for a picture, she said she didn’t have one, even though she proudly showed off her two youngest kids.”

Tai exploded. “You’ve been suspecting this for months? And didn’t say anything?”

“I didn’t want to start trouble.” Mama Max turned more fully toward Tai and continued, “But as time went by, it kept bothering me, the fact that Tootie has a child around the—” Mama Max stopped, not wanting to say what she thought. But she’d already started, so she continued, “Around the same age as Princess. I asked Nancy if her daughter’s child was my grandchild. And that’s when it got real interesting, too interesting for me to leave it alone.”

“What did she say?” Tai asked.

“She said she didn’t know, that Tootie refused to name the daddy.”

“So why do you think it’s King’s? If you’ll remember, Tootie’s been around.”

“I hope it’s not,” Mama Max said quickly. “I just wish I could know for sure.”

Tai looked at King a long moment. He was sitting behind the desk, hands steepled, looking off in the distance. “And what about you, King? What do you think?”

King answered truthfully, looking directly at Tai. “I don’t know. As much as I’d like to state emphatically that there’s no way the child could be mine, the truth is, that’s when—” King chose his words like steps taken in a minefield—“that was the last time I was with her.”

“You mean the affair,
after
we were married.” Tai was surprised at how quickly and intensely the anger about King’s past infidelities came rushing back. She thought she’d moved way past anger and hurt. She was wrong. And to think when she’d encountered Tootie, she’d been cordial!

Mama Max assumed the voice of reason. “It doesn’t help nobody to get upset until we know for sure there’s something to get upset about.” She was unaware that it was her raised voice in the first place that alerted Tai to something out of the ordinary going on in her house. “I think we need to come up with a way to find out for sure if that’s King’s son.”

The fact that “King’s son” was not referencing her boys, Michael or Timothy, was too much for Tai. She stood. “I can’t do this right now. This is too much; I need some time alone. If Tootie has your child, King…” Tai didn’t finish the sentence. She didn’t know the ending. She got up and left the room.

Mama Max and King watched Tai walk out of the office. “Well,” Mama Max began in a low voice after the door had closed, “it was bound to happen. What’s done in the dark always come to light. Best she knows, ’cause if that boy’s yours, it will not just be you but Tai, and your kids, dealing with this.”

Mama Max and King sat silently for a long moment. “Well, son, I’m going to go. I’ll be praying for you.” She walked around the desk and kissed King’s forehead. As she did, an old Baptist standard, one of her favorite songs, popped into her head, “The Lord Will Make a Way Somehow.” She took some assurance in the words of this hymn. Because God was the only one who could make a way out of this.