Single Ladies (7 page)

Read Single Ladies Online

Authors: Tamika Jeffries

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #United States, #African American, #Women's Fiction

BOOK: Single Ladies
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"Damn, he knows who I am!"

All she could do was smile, in between the bubbly feeling in her belly, and the anxious jitters multiplying inside her nerves. 

"What have I done?"

Chapter 9

 

Daphne

 

After dinner, Jas sat next to Daphne on the contemporary, black sofa , and cuddled against her soft bosom.

"That spaghetti was so good. Damn, I love you, girl."

"Love you, too." Daphne continued to watch an episode of My wife and kids.

"You know, I have to be back home in Houston next week.  All next week, so when you come back from being with your brother, I may not see you for a few days, boo."

  "What do you have to do there?  And why are you just now telling me this?"

"There's money to be made.  My cousin's got a big event with some models flying in from all over the world. This is big time, Daph!"

"Are you talking about this Elite Ladies tour that everybody is screaming about?"

"Yeah!  I've been knowing about it, before anybody around here, because my cousin is one of the head honchos."

Daphne was disappointed. " So, why haven't you been telling me about this?  You tell me everything else.  Did you not want me to go wi-"

Jas pulled away from Daphne.  "Here we go with the bull!  I have been so busy with clients, talking to my cousin about this tour, and trying to keep my so-called relationship going with you, so I'm sorry if it slipped my mind, Daphne."

"So-called?" Daphne's face flushed with anger.

"Okay, don't take what I say so literally!    I just meant it because you want what we have to be a secret. I said I was gonna leave you alone about it and let you deal with it your way, as long as I have you in my life.  I'm  wore down to the bone with this stuff, Daphne.  I mean, damn!  You and I are both well known, top stylists and makeup artists, so I figured any news I get, you will get also.  They notify the cream of the crop anytime there is something big like this goin on.  Don’t tell me you haven't gotten any emails or anything."

Daphne realized that she hadn't checked her email for almost two weeks.  "Okay, maybe they did send it to me and I haven't had time to read it.  I've been worried sick about Denise."

"See, that's what I mean.  You have a lot on your plate, baby.  I just thought maybe you got it and didn't have time or couldn't make time, because you gotta go home and be with your brother."

Jas looked sexy, with her fresh haircut. 

Daphne leaned in toward Jas and gave her a slow, deep kiss.

"I'm sorry, baby.  You are absolutely right.  I have been worried sick lately.  My flight leaves in the morning.  You'll be at work when I leave, but just promise me that while you are gone to Houston, I'll stay on your mind."

"More than that.   You'll be on my heart, boo." Jas kissed her soft hands.  A soft hint of colonge from Jas' wrist ignited her senses.

"Make love to me, Jas." Daphne purred, as her pussy throbbed with desire.

Without further ado, Jas rendered her a passion, that felt like the very first time.  She slid Daphne's skirt up over her hips and spread her tender thighs.  Pushing her satin panties to the side, she licked the inside of her thighs, before her tongue found it's way home.   If her pussy was a canvas, and Jas' tongue was a soft brush, the picture that was being painted, would be a true work of art.  She put her all into each stroke.  Carefully and gently sucking, and licking each and every spot of Daphne's pink opening.  Daphne grinded her hips into Jas' face and ran her fingers across her head, as she came all over her tongue.  Jas was hungry for more.     They both were more than willing to go for round two.  After getting undressed, they stepped into a warm, steamy shower, and took it from the top.  TAKE TWO.

California was different from the atmosphere of Chicago.  Daphne drove her rental car to St. Paul's General Hospital, after calling Jas and assuring her that she had a safe trip.  Taking the corridor to the west wing of the hospital, she found her heart pounding as the elevator doors opened her eyes to the reality of death.  An emaciated, female AIDS patient was sitting in front of her in a wheelchair, when she walked toward the nurse's station to ask for Denise's room number.  The friendly nurse not only gave her the number, but also led her to the room.

"Denise, somebody's here to see you," the chubby, red-haired nurse said in a cheery tone.

Her brother would kill her if she dared to say he looked good, or even alright, for that fact.  At six foot two, he was naturally petite, but he'd lost at least thirty pounds, and weighed no more than a hundred and twenty pounds.  His skin looked dry and ashy, and his eyes had dark circles underneath. 

There were no words exchanged between the two.  She rushed to his bedside, with her hand over her trembling mouth, and when she embraced him, they both let out soft cries.

"I missed you----oh God, I missed you, Nee-ceeeeey", she cried.

"I missed you too," he whined.  " Nah u betta stop all that cryin' girl, u got me emotional," he said in his sassy, girly voice.

The nurse got teary eyed, watching them.  "Denise, is there anything I can get you right now?"

"Naw, but thank you hunny", he continued to hold onto his sister.

"K. I'll see you a little later", she smiled and left the two in privacy.

Once the door shut, Daphne looked back at her sickly brother and wiped her tears.  They still flowed internally as she looked at the effects of AIDS on his body. She saw part of a lesion that hid underneath his pale blue hospital gown, but tried to look elsewhere.

"Oh, yeah.  I got about twenty of them nasty ass sores on my back, too," he pointed out, when he noticed her looking at it.

"Well, I aint gon' lie to you Neecey.  You look like shit."

Neecey laughed.  "You can say that again.  But one thang about it, I'm gon' be outta here in no time and Imma be r-right back to my sexy self.  Girl, this ugly ass blue gown and shit aint gon get it!  O-kaaay!  I-I'm used to my stilettos and n-name b-brand jeans huggin this ass!" he laughed until he started to cough.

"You okay?"

His coughing subsided after a minute. "Y-yeah.  Man this shit hurts, Daphne.  I nevva saw my-my self layin up in no damn hospital with AIDS, when I was out in them streets so deep."

Daphne rubbed his shoulder length hair, that he dyed platinum blonde years before. 

She gave him a special comfort, when she rubbed his hair.  He closed his eyes and continued to ramble.  She listened attentively.  Just listening to his feigned confidence in getting "back out there", was enough for her to know, he never was.  Denise had always been stubborn, rebellious, too hot to handle, and too cold to hold.  Daphne was always told that since the age of three,  Denise had always looked more "Girly".   She remembered the pictures she'd seen of him  and he had long eyelashes, a pretty, feminine mouth, soft, light caramel skin, curly long hair, and a delicate bone structure.   Daphne could recall their grandmother talking about how she would sit next to Denise in the mornings, while he dressed for school, telling him to stop crying like a little girl and to be strong like a boy.  She said he would be crying because the children at school were teasing him for the girly way he behaved.  He was nine years older than Daphne, but when she turned eighteen, she took on a big sister role and became the light in Denise's dark sky.  He turned to her for advice.  As a teenager, she was a popular neighborhood hairstylist, and she often did her new styles on Denise, and everybody who would see it, would be jealous.  Denise had real women jealous of him!    Daphne was the first person he told that he was HIV positive.  He was twenty seven at the time, but had been positive for five years before he told her.   The whole city had known him for his womanly beauty.  When he first started to dress in women's clothing, when he was about fifteen, is when he also started to take his best friend, Shameka's birth control pills to grow breasts and acquire some female hormones.  He told everyone to call him Denise, instead of Darnell.   He became famous for drag shows at the local gay clubs.  He was white hot, elegant, always dressed to impress, and even straight men approached him, not knowing he was a man.  He never denied that he was a man.  He always told men about his true gender, but surprisingly, most of them dated him anyway.  He lived all over the United States, hopping from one city to the next, and one bed to the next.  Daphne could remember a lot of his gay friends getting sick with the virus.  Denise had finally settled down with a boyfriend, when he moved back to Chicago.  A few years later, he would resurface to California, ill with HIV.  Popularity, poor choices, and promiscuity led him to death's door, but he wasn't going without a fight. Daphne knew one thing was for certain... that he was going. 

"Daph-ne.  Mama would-a been a mess to see me like this. Even tho she nevva undastood me bein gay, she woulda been here for me now.  Just the way u is.  My friend been up here to see me yesta-day, b-but he can't handle seein me like this.  I know I wont see him no mo, till I get outta here.  Member when  Uncle Jesse tried to whip me cuz I told him I was gay?  I saw Un-Uncle Jesse yesta day. I wanted to hug him, but he didn't wanna hug me.  Cuz I got AIDS. Ha! HA! " he became hysterical and started laughing.  Within seconds, he started to cry. Daphne fought hard not to break down and cry.  Their Uncle Jesse had been dead, since they were teenagers.  Denise was delusional.  His episodes were sporadic and it seemed like one minute he was fine, and the next, he was losing his mind. 

Daphne continued to rub his hair and listen to him, until his words began to run together and he drifted off to sleep.  She reached down and squeezed his tiny hand.  "I'll be back later, Neecey", she whispered, as she got up, tiptoed out of the room, and walked into the hallway.  She took a deep breath, to stop the scream that wanted to escape her lungs.  She looked to her left and noticed Nurse Ann, standing there with an African American male doctor,  pointing in her direction.  The doctor nodded, then walked swiftly toward her.  He smiled and extended his hand.

"Hello, young lady.  I'm Doctor Harmon.  I have been treating Denise since he has been here."

Daphne shook his hand. "Pleased to meet you Dr. Harmon, I'm Daphne, Denise's sister."

She knew the conversation was about to get on a more serious note when he motioned her to a chair in a nearby lobby, where they could talk privately.

He leaned in toward her and talked quietly.  "Daphne, I don't know how long you've known about Denise's illness, but it has taken a major toll on his body.  AIDS is just a very complex disease that mutates and one that we hope to one day, look back and celebrate the lives of the one's we were able to cure."

She wished he would just save the speech and say the inevitable, because she already knew. 

"So, how long will it be? Days? Weeks?."

The doctor dropped his head slightly. "Daphne,  I'm not going to sit here and play God, but I will give you my opinion based on experience, and I have treated AIDS patients since the early eighties, when areas, like ours, were hard hit.  Denise will be blessed to live through the next seventy two hours.  He has Kaposi's sarcoma, which is a cancer of the skin, and he's also weak from getting over the Pneumocystis Carinii Pneumonia, which he has had twice before, along with esophageal thrush.   He's also showing signs of dementia.  Cat scans showed lesions on his brain, which apparently had been there, festering, when he was using the drugs and not complying with his medication and regimen.  His body has become resistant to mostly all the cocktails and combinations we can offer, right now.    His t-cells are completely gone and his viral load is in the hundreds of thousands.  He's quite ill.  It doesn't surprise me that he's too weak to walk around, but honestly, I am very surprised that he's able to talk at all or remember anyone.  His memory is just fading in and out, though.  It's not, by far, the worse I've seen.  It's intermittent.  Just to be frank with you, it really wouldn't be necessary to transfer him to hospice this time."

"That soon, huh?" Daphne bit her bottom lip to silence the wail that was on it's way from her belly. 

"I'm sorry honey", the doctor rubbed her shoulder.  "If there is anything I could do for you, I would.  I am terribly sorry."

"Thank you, Doctor " she whispered. 

Daphne sat in the chair, and peered out the window, looking at the beauty of San Francisco's skyscrapers, but could envision nothing but the shadow of death on Denise's face.  She took a deep breath and pulled out her cell phone.  

After three unsuccessful attempts to reach Jas, she left a voicemail. 

"Hey babe.  It's me.  It's not looking too good...... but.....I guess part of me already knew that.  I hope you have  a safe trip to Houston.  I'll see you soon.  Call me."

After calling Angie, Roni, and Karla, with the bad news, she started thinking about what Denise wanted for memorial services.   He wanted to be cremated, and his ashes to remain in an urn, which Daphne would keep.  He wanted to stay as close to her as he could.  He wanted a simple dinner party to remember him. He didn't want a memorial service, because he didn't want anyone to pray for his soul, because he said the same hypocrits, who would pray that his soul rested in peace, in Heaven,  would just go home and condemn him for living a gay lifestyle.    She had no family to visit in San Francisco, but made some calls to a few of their cousins in Chicago. 

She returned to her hotel room, later that evening, and attempted to get some rest.  Three hours passed before Jas returned her call.

"I'm so sorry baby, I got your message."

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