Endless Summer Nights (19 page)

“Kimya,” he spat, looking back at the water before explaining the story about his situation with Pilar in a grand scheme that would only make sense to other people in the entertainment industry.

“She’s a beautiful person. She has a wonderful voice and I support her. I’m her friend. I just want what’s best for her,” he said.

I’d uncrossed and re-crossed my arms dozens of times to keep track of the tale that left me teetering between understanding, disbelief and even contempt a few times. I thought to walk away. To hit him. And then to hug him.

“What is Kimya getting out of this?” I asked as every plot point in the ruse led back to her.

“Well, you see it all online. We’re the new ‘Three Musketeers’ of the blogs and gossip rags—beating out even the newbies,” he shrugged. “We’re in the headlines. She goes on tour in a few weeks. It’s all publicity. Works for everyone.”

“You?”

“I’m in the studio. The label wants to accelerate the release date of my album,” he said.

“So, you’re pretending to be engaged to get publicity?” I laughed. “Ridiculous.”

“There you go with that again. Judging everyone for everything,” he said. “Did you even hear the other stuff I said about Pilar? About her career?”

“What? She’s a lesbian and the labels don’t think people will like that?” I repeated what he’d revealed. “What is it, 1950? Who cares?”

“She cares. Pilar has been in a committed relationship with the same woman for ten years. She doesn’t want to compromise that, but she also wants her shot—just like the rest of us. You know how this works—how this industry is.”

“I do, but I also know how I want to work. How I want to be,” I said.

“What does that mean?” Marlo came in closer to me than he’d been all night.

“Not like this. Not being confused and hurt. I want to be clear...and if you or anyone else can’t give that to me, then I can’t do it. I just can’t. Not anymore in my life.”

“I wasn’t trying to bring this to you, Sunshine,” Marlo said.

“You keep saying that. About everything. About Kimya and now this, but you keep doing it,” I said. “I need more.”

Marlo looked at me like a man who was down on his luck. “I can fix it.”

“I don’t want you to do that.”

“What do you want?”

“I don’t want to compromise me or you or anything. Not anymore.”

“Sunny, I gave my word. It’s deeper than just being a compromise. Don’t you understand?”

I shook my head and turned to go in my own direction alone again. “I guess I don’t have a choice. Do I?”

That night, as I began to walk away with only the South Atlantic wind whistling in my ear, I decided that was it. Any dream I’d had of being with Marlo was over.

“Sunny, don’t!” Marlo screamed to my back.

I hurried away. Kept my pace as I began to cry.

“Sunny!”

Soon I could hear him back behind me.

“Sunny!” He spun me around, grabbed my face from either side and on my mouth he cried a caress with his tongue. Our bodies hardly touching, the sadness was communicated in an overflow.

* * *

In the morning, I called Megatron to tell him I would be leaving Brazil early. I wanted to thank him for everything. I hoped I hadn’t let him down.

Through a groggy voice that sounded like rounds of drinks and Brazilian cigars he’d enjoyed the night before, Megatron begged me to stay. He reminded me of how much Pilar moved my music and he wanted me to have a chance to hear her perform my songs in front of everyone from the label at the showcase that night.

“Just stay one more night,” he’d said. “I promise you’ll love it. Pilar is an amazing singer, but she needed your words. I didn’t tell you this before because I didn’t want you to be intimidated, but I’d tried matching her voice with so many writers, but none of their words really caught what she could do, what she could say.”

I was still packing in my hotel room as I listened to his plea on speaker phone. I rolled up my sarong and sat on the bed.

“Is this about Marlo?” Megatron asked carefully.

“You know?”

“I put it together. The way he looked at you in the studio—”

“I didn’t mean for that to happen. I had no idea he—”

“I know. It was all Kimya’s work. Her idea to get them together. To pull you in. Good old Kimya,” he said, laughing, before he confirmed what I’d thought about Kimya’s watchful eye over my work with him. In fact, she’d been more involved than I’d originally thought. Megatron had actually been expecting me to stop by his studio at some point because Kimya told him I was looking to hook up with him and warned him that I was a horrible writer, tramp and troublemaker and that he should stay away. Megatron said he didn’t believe anything she’d said and that her warning only made him believe the opposite. “I’m my own man. I don’t get involved in that industry bullshit,” he said. “I’m just here to make good music.”

“Thank you for giving me a chance,” I said.

“No, Sunny. You gave yourself a chance. And don’t lose it all over this bullshit. Can’t you see that’s what Kimya wants? For you to walk away with your tail between your legs?” he asked. “Here’s the truth—everyone at the label knows about Pilar. Shit, she brought her girl here with her.”

“She did?”

“Yes. Honey was in coach right behind us. That’s why Pilar kept looking back through the whole flight,” Megatron revealed.

I sat shocked, remembering Pilar looking back toward us from the front row on the flight to Brazil. I thought she was looking at me and knew about what had happened with Marlo, but she was actually making eyes with someone else.

“But I don’t get it. Isn’t that whole lesbian thing cool right now in entertainment?”

“Not in middle America. Not if you’re a former Ms. Universe. Don’t get it twisted. People are still feeling some kind of way. But really, just in the industry, even the fakes don’t care about Pilar’s past. They just want to make money. They made up this whole engagement thing to get her name out there and get Marlo some attention. As soon as she’s on top, they’ll fake a breakup and both will go their separate ways,” Megatron went on. “That’s the bottom line. She knows that and I know you do, too. As for Marlo, dude is a legit. I’ve been out here longer than him or Kimya and I know he’s straight.” He laughed. “Now, Kimya—she’s grimy. But Marlo? If anything, he’s not grimy enough for this. Too good. But as crazy as Kimya is, she’s still his blood. A good man ain’t gonna cross that.”

“But that doesn’t mean he has to play along with her. He should be his own man,” I replied, feeling as if Megatron had suddenly become an old friend.

“I’m not saying you need to marry dude. I just want you to know the real. You’re in my family now and I believe in protecting my team,” Megatron said. “Kimya set this all up to make you give up. Walk away from writing. Walk away from Marlo. And right now, you’re about to do it. If you’re okay with that, cool. But you needed to know the truth.”

* * *

Feeling torn about making a decision, I put on my bikini top and sarong and sat out on the beach in my big shades to watch the shades of brown buttocks go by in thin thongs and men’s eyes pop out like those on dead fish.

Pilar and a woman I recognized from the flight who was just as beautiful, long and glamorous as Pilar, walked past just a few recliners away, laughing and looking at each other’s feet digging into the sand as they headed to the water. They weren’t holding hands and anyone watching would never think they were “together,” but they looked happier in each other’s presence than two platonic friends ever could.

Interestingly, although I hadn’t known Pilar long enough to champion any cause related to what I was seeing or knew about her relationship, the little bit I’d learned about how humble and kind she’d been, even behind closed doors in the studio where saving face wasn’t ever easy for a diva, made me happy for her at least having love. Feeling it. I wondered if that affected how she sang her songs. Who she sang to when she closed her eyes and flung her head back and belted out, crying of love.

For a few seconds, I wondered if I should say hello to Pilar. Maybe share again and under less pressure-filled consciousness how I felt about her voice. She was only a few steps away with her back to me, but I decided against it.

I was about to get up from my seat to head to the bar when Pilar’s friend suddenly pulled her into an embrace that left Pilar facing me.

While her eyes were closed at first, she opened them and looked right at me. The smile she’d had broke apart and her eyes began an uneasy suffering. It was hard to think she was looking at me. Hard until I realized who I was and where we were. She waved with a crinkled and nervous hand.

“Hey,” I called.

The woman let her go and turned to face me, too. They stood as if they were waiting for unkind words or maybe just one of those judgmental looks.

“Great job yesterday,” I said to counter their wondering. “I really mean that.”

Pilar’s smile returned. “Thank you,” she said, still keeping a distance about her. “I’ll see you later.”

I nodded a yes and they turned away before I could remember to say I would be leaving Rio before the showcase.

When I got up to head back to the bar for a drink, standing there, just steps back, was a photographer flipping through pictures he’d just taken of Pilar in her embrace on the beach.

Something beneath my skin began to itch and I walked past the bar and back to the hotel.

Part IV

“Finding Love in Brooklyn”

“B
ird” wasn’t my father’s favorite song to sing. That was “Finding Love in Brooklyn.”

After he died, I was cleaning out his boxes, donating some of his music sheets to the Schomburg in Harlem when I saw an old feature published in the
Amsterdam News.
In the article, my father was talking about “Finding Love in Brooklyn” and why it had always been his favorite.

He’d said the song was about emotional currency. About the heart and its limitless ability to love wide-open. And even at the worst of times. In the worst of places. When it seemed like it was empty or lost or forgotten, it would show up and get found and act out. Everywhere. Even in Brooklyn.

As I recalled that memory, I cursed myself the entire way back upstairs to my room where I thought about rebooking my flight, then sat on the bed to come up with a plan.

The thing was, I couldn’t let Pilar look out into the audience and not see me and think maybe I’d left Rio on account of what I’d seen on the beach. Maybe she wouldn’t even think about it or notice or care, but I sat and knew I couldn’t take the risk of someone else getting hurt, of anyone else not reaching their potential for any reason. Seeing that photographer, who I knew had sent those pictures out everywhere just seconds after Pilar had walked away, made the situation so real for me. Marlo was right. It was about so much more than what I wanted. It was about her right to find her own love. And I had to support that. I’d be there in the audience tonight if she looked for me. Whatever else happened with Marlo or Kimya just would. And maybe I wanted that.

Still, I got to the showcase late. It was back at the mansion and just overnight a crew had transformed the outdoor area into something that looked like an open-air concert hall. An entire live band, complete with a white baby grand that glowed brilliantly beneath the moon, sat atop huge wooden planks jettisoned over half of the swimming pool. Cocktail tables, low and high, dressed in white cloth, floating candles and lemon-colored ostrich feathers, replaced sun recliners around the deck. Everywhere was someone beautiful and bright, shining in the residue of leftover suntan oil. Even from my humble, hidden seat far to the back of the crowd, I could see faces that usually looked just okay in New York made delectable in the opulent setting of musical celebration. Some people danced with sexy new scantily-clad friends. Some others chatted and politicked, waiting for the next performer and waxing about the last.

There were a couple of singers and two rappers, all of whom were amazing, but none of whom could nearly compare to Pilar, who was sitting in the front of the room at a table with the label’s vice president, Marlo, Kimya and two A&Rs. A few tables over from mine in the back sat Pilar’s friend from the beach with Marlo’s boys Icey and Milt and two women I remembered from the pool party.

While someone else had been introducing the other artists, when it was time for Pilar to perform, Megatron was called to the stage to do the honors. Through cheers of knowing applause, he went up in his normal cool, chatting about the importance of good music and how it wasn’t ever easy for even a great producer to create great music unless he had the right talent around him. He talked about meeting Pilar and hearing her voice and that he knew that once he’d found the right writer, he’d be able to produce something timeless. But that search wasn’t as easy as he’d thought.

“I don’t think that young lady who wrote the two songs you’re about to hear is here tonight,” he said, looking out into the audience and squinting to maybe find my face, but I stayed in my corner. “But she’s definitely a part of this effort and the magic Pilar is about to present came from her. So, thank you, Ms. Sunshine Embry, wherever you are.”

He finished by getting everyone riled up to hear the label’s next hot thing, the voice of the next generation, Pilar Amber.

A sparkling parade of fireworks lit up the sky and then he was gone and Pilar was center stage in a long white gown that matched perfectly the purple orchids tucked behind her right ear.

She sang my song about flying and the buzzing crowd became so silent it seemed they were mesmerized not only with her near-perfect notes, but also by the story of the song. I could literally feel them waiting for the next lines, the next verse. The anticipation was so palpable, a few people were standing and swaying along.

When Pilar finished the song, she thanked everyone in the audience for their support and highlighted a few people who’d been on her team since the beginning.

A man in a black tux at the piano started playing the notes to the ballad and Pilar signaled for Marlo to join her onstage.

“Ladies and gentleman, Mr. Marlo Lee,” Pilar said, smiling as Marlo headed to the front.

Kimya stood and squealed as though she was his mother.

Marlo waved humbly as everyone clapped and cheered in a wave of recognition that led to a standing ovation.

“Thank you all so much,” he responded, looking out at everyone, but I felt as if he was staring right at me.

Pilar introduced the meaning of the song over the piano, repeating everything I’d said in the studio, though I didn’t think she’d been listening to me.

At some point as they sang as though they’d been singing together forever—Rufus and Chaka, Donny and Roberta, Ashford and Simpson—I closed my eyes to really feel the words alone inside myself. I heard someone to my left say, “This is about to change the game.”

When the song was over, the crowd was on its feet again, begging for an encore.

Pilar giggled and covered her reddening face shyly.

Marlo hugged her and kissed her on the cheek before backing up to look at her. When she uncovered her face, she was crying and though she was still obviously happy, a look of seriousness dulled her joy.

“You ready for this?” Marlo asked, looking into her eyes.

“Yes,” Pilar answered soberly.

Marlo pulled Pilar under his shoulder and they turned to the audience.

“What’s going on?” the person in my right ear at the table asked someone else.

“Well, I think some of you may already know this, but Pilar and I wanted to go ahead and give our take on it, I guess,” Marlo started, looking back and forth between the audience and Pilar protected in his hold. “A few hours ago someone released pictures of my dear friend Pilar on the internet, claiming she was here in Brazil on vacation with someone who will remain unnamed.”

An audible chatter of surprise at both the news and announcement of news they already knew rumbled around the audience.

“Now, don’t everyone get all upset all at once,” Marlo joked. “We know who the person is and how they got those pictures. And—” he looked at Pilar, who nodded him along “—we just wanted to come out—I guess, in a way—and say that no, we are not engaged. We are just good friends. And, yes, the person Pilar was photographed with is—”

“No! You stop it! Stop it right now!” Kimya charged on her feet and headed to the stage.

Megatron and one of the A&Rs caught her and stopped the interruption, though Kimya continued to shout defiantly, “No! You’ll screw everything up!”

Pilar put her microphone to her mouth and started where Marlo stopped. “Umm... I’m sorry, Kimya. And I’m sorry, everyone, but I won’t hide who I am anymore. And I can’t keep lying to everyone. See, I started singing because I wanted to follow my dreams, but today I realized, with the help of my good friend Marlo,” she said, looking at Marlo, “that, as the person he really loves told him, we have to be honest about who we are if we’ll ever get what we truly want. Who I really am is someone who is in love with a woman.”

There was more rumbling and gasps.

“And I’m not ashamed of it. And I won’t hide. I won’t compromise that. If I’m going to really sing about love, I have to be honest about who I love and how I love,” Pilar said as her voice transformed from one filled with fear to complex openness. Her face was dried of tears.

Pilar ran off the stage with the bottom of her gown tossed over her arm and met her girlfriend halfway on the floor.

At first the rumbles of chatter simply got louder, but one person started clapping as the pair united in an embrace. Next another person was clapping. Soon a few more. Then everyone was moved to clapping and cheering and on their feet. Even the vice president and the other big wigs from the label up front had dewy faces and encouraging smiles.

As the crowd began to close in around the spectacle, Kimya shouted hysterically from her holding area, “Lies! Can’t you all see it? They’re lying! This isn’t true! It’s all a lie! A joke!” She laughed wildly like a crazy woman.

Still, neither Kimya’s craziness nor the kissing ladies was the most shocking thing that I was seeing. It was Marlo. He was still standing and smiling on the stage, watching everyone gather to celebrate Pilar’s coming out. He looked so full. He never once looked in Kimya’s direction.

I wondered what he was thinking. If he was looking for me.

Without another thought, I began to tunnel through the crowd in a burst of feverous desire.

I wanted to be near Marlo. To kiss him under the moonlight again. To hear him tell me everything I was feeling was real and I was his best gift. Because I wanted to tell him he was mine.

“What she said—what Pilar said—was she talking about me?” I asked when I’d made it to Marlo’s side on the stage over the pool.

He turned to me and this time I saw in his eyes that he was the one who’d lost his breath.

“Yes,” he said so naturally. “I’m in love with you, Sunshine Embry.”

We hadn’t realized it, but the microphone was still on and the crowd was growing quiet again as, one by one, they realized where the sound through the speakers was coming from.

“But what Kim—” I tried.

“There’s nothing in my life—nothing—that’s going to keep me away from loving you and being with you for another day,” he said.

“How are we going to do this?” I asked. “How do we begin?”

“Like this!” Marlo pulled me into his arms and picked me up so my head hovered over his before kissing me so passionately I could hardly imagine the world of flashing camera phones and ovations that would flood around us when I opened my eyes.

“What is this?” Kimya shouted amid the merriment. “What are you doing, Marlo? You’re ruining me. Ruining everything!”

Megatron began to pull her farther back away from the stage, but I took the microphone from Marlo to tell him to stop.

“No. Let her go,” I said in front of the listening audience. “Please let her go.”

Megatron and the other man released Kimya and she looked at them as though they’d tried to accost her.

She then looked back up at Marlo and me with fury in her eyes.

“You’ll pay for this, Sunny Bear!” she spat with her hand held up in my direction to curse me.

“Grow up, Kimya,” I offered. “You tried to beat me. You lied. You schemed. You lost. It’s time for you to grow the hell up.”

“I won’t let you take my brother!” she hollered like a toddler unprepared to share.

I was about to respond, but Marlo took the microphone from me.

“She already has,” he said rebelliously.

These words hit Kimya as if a typhoon had rolled up from the beach and threatened to pull her into the ocean.

She fell back into a dramatic faint. Luckily, Megatron and the A&R were still standing behind Kimya to catch her and pull her out of the party.

Knowing the spell would be short-lived, Marlo and I turned to each other laughing a little.

“You fine with this?” Marlo asked.

“Yes,” I said. “I’m fine with all of this.”

“Kiss her again!” Pilar called out and everyone laughed.

Marlo pulled me back into his arms and planted his lips against mine once more.

The crowd shouted congratulations and more lights flashed. This time the fireworks bursting over the sky were for us.