I had to smile because he never seemed to change. "The city is much more easy-going than here."
"Yeah, well, Charlotte 's a moving town. I got a new subdivision in the works south of Ballantyne. It will make those original Ballantyne mansions look like Wilmore shacks." Tim held onto my arm as he talked. "Damn boy, you been working out. I better look out; you might kick my ass for all those tricks I played on you."
I slapped his belly. "Looks like you haven't been working out." I teased him, but he had honestly gained weight in his stomach and face, making him look older than he was. "Forty's coming up this fall, isn't it?"
He hugged me close to him, and whispered, "I may have a few gray hairs here and there, but I can get it up on command."
"Tim, you're not fooling around on Laura, are you?"
"Me?" He feigned innocence.
"Keep your dick at home. AIDS isn't just for us queers."
"Shit." He drew the word out into three syllables. "Hey, it's Saturday night. Let's go find a pretty young couple. You take the husband, and I'll take the wife."
The stern look I gave him must have shocked him.
"Just kidding, just kidding. Laura and I are the perfect pair. Oh, there she goes now. You staying with Valerie?"
"No," I called after him, "Ruby."
"I'll call you." He caught up with Laura. She eyed me and nodded, then herded the children and her husband toward their Mercedes.
Streams of people flowed toward the line of cars, and I saw Valerie helping Ruby back to the limo. Just as I headed toward them, Mark tapped me on the shoulder. I turned, and he pulled me to him and hugged me hard. We broke the embrace, but he held my shoulders at arm's length and looked me over.
"You look great, Derek." His faint smile faded. "I'm glad you made it in for the funeral. I'm really going to miss Walterene."
"I wouldn't have missed the funeral. I just wish I could have seen her before…"
"I know. I get so caught up in work; I can't remember the last time I stopped to see Ruby or Walterene."
I let the silence fall between us.
"I hope you plan on staying for a while." He brightened up some. "Kathleen and I would love to have you over for dinner."
"That would be nice," I muttered. Did he not have any feelings for me? "I hear you live in Fourth Ward."
"That's right. We have a place in the TransAmerica building. You wouldn't believe Uptown." He became his old happy self. "I love living in town. I walk to work and to the Uptown Y; restaurants and bars are popping up everywhere." A woman walking by offered her condolences; he nodded in return.
"Mark," I got his attention back, "I still have feelings for you."
"Come on, Derek, we were just kids fooling around."
"Maybe that was it for you, but it meant more to me." Seeing him again brought back the old emotions. I had never had a relationship that compared to what I had with Mark. Maybe it was the excitement of the first love, maybe the thought of cousins having sex-an incestuous relationship forbidden because we were related and because we were both men-but at that moment, I would have given up everything to be back in his arms. Love had eluded me since Mark; the world never revealed another to take his place. "I-I… I just wanted you to know that I still love you." My voice broke as I said it.
His face flushed, and he led me away from the crowd. We stood beneath a large willow oak surrounded by the gravestones of strangers; low-hanging branches shielded us from the eyes and ears of others.
"Derek, please let that stay between us. I've moved on; I'm a different person now. Kathleen and I are very happy."
Who was he trying to convince? Then it hit me: Why bother? There was nothing here for me. These people didn't want me around. Mark wouldn't even admit to himself what an extraordinary connection we had; the past was past. Love couldn't last through the restraints this family put on its children-we would all be beaten down, molded to the forms and principles set by Papa Ernest Harris. Gladys the Bitch was right, although I hated to admit it. I smiled and patted his shoulder. "That was the past. It's not worth bringing up again. I'm staying at Ruby's for a couple of days. If I don't see you before I go home, good luck with Kathleen and the job." I pushed one of the low-hanging limbs aside and started to walk away.
"Derek," he called after me. "Maybe we'll see you during the holidays?"
"Yeah, that would be nice," I lied.
THE LIMO TOOK us back to Sedgefield Road. Ruby wanted to lie down for a while. Valerie and I opened a bottle of wine and nibbled from some of the covered dishes in the refrigerator. "Val, I'm going back to California on Monday."
"We'll miss you," her voice dropped.
"Do you think Ruby will be okay?"
"I can look in on Ruby on my lunch hours and after work. She'll be fine in a few days." Valerie forced a smile.
"It would be great if you and Ruby lived in San Francisco."
"Our lives are here." She wrapped up a dish and set it back in the refrigerator. "Why don't you get some rest, too. I'll be back for dinner." She hugged me good-bye.
I went back to the guest room and drifted off to sleep.
I WOKE TO the squawk of the attic stairs being pulled down, and called out, "Ruby, let me help you with that." I grabbed the cord, and helped her lower the stairs down into the hall.
"Just wanted to take a look at some things in the attic. Walterene was always good at packing away her memories. She even kept old Christmas cards." Ruby ascended the steps; I followed. The sun warmed the asphalt shingles above, creating a mix of tar and musty smells. The floorboards creaked as she clicked on a bare bulb and maneuvered a path between boxes, rolled up rugs, old chests, and framed paintings. Two more lights lit the entire space. Christmas decorations and boxes of old clothes seemed to support the roof. I helped her move a few boxes until she found what had been on her mind. She opened a tattered cardboard box filled with crumpled newspapers and pulled out a stuffed toy-an elephant. "This was one of Walterene's favorites from when we were girls. She used to drag Willie around everywhere she went." More newspapers spilled out of the box as Ruby dug through it. "Oh, look." She held up a yellowed perfume bottle. "Mr. Sams gave this to her."
"Mr. Sams?" I took the bottle she held out to me. The thick glass felt heavy and warm in my hand. I smelled the top; the sweet aroma of the funeral flowers invaded my head again.
"Mr. Sams was an old black man who helped around the Dilworth house." She grabbed the bottle back, rewrapped it in paper, and stuffed it back in the box. "I need to go through all of this." She contemplated the cluttered attic, then glanced at me. "Will you help me?"
"Aunt Ruby," I tried to think of a good way to tell her, but it just came out, "I'm leaving on Monday to go back to California."
"No," she pleaded, "please stay awhile. We haven't had any time together. There's so much to be done. I don't know if I… I can't do it alone."
She pulled at my heart. "I guess I could stay a couple of days longer, but I need to get back."
"Yes, yes." She gave me a smile, the first I had seen on her all day. "Just stay for a few more days. There's so much to be done, so, so much to be done."
Chapter Four
SUNDAY AFTERNOON, EDWINA and Roscoe stopped by the house to visit with Ruby. As twins, they always seemed to be together. Edwina favored flashy colors and had on a teal, magenta, and lemon-yellow nylon wind-suit that crinkled when she moved, whereas Roscoe wore black polyester Sans-a-Belt pants that had been buffed to a shine by years of dry cleaning and a short-sleeved white dress shirt with a too-short, too-wide navy blue striped tie. Apparently, that one chromosome that kept them from being identical twins skewed them into different universes, hers flashy and opinionated, his meek and agreeable.